Pick Your Poison
Heat 5.2
[Sunday, December 5, 2010]
After being used by Panacea as a Stim factory so the crew and everyone else using Stim could keep up the good work, and being given one of the best sleeps of my life, I awoke to a sullen and despondent world, as well as a flustered and apologetic Panacea with a severe and disappointed Brandish standing behind her. She apologized for using me as a Stim factory without my given consent, and she only just barely avoided imprisonment since she only used the corpses/cadavers of those whose families agreed to have their deceased loved ones save the lives of others. The fact most of the bodies used were organ donors to begin with expedited some of those people's decisions.
All-in-all, people were thankful for Amy and I's contribution to saving so many lives. With our help, this was apparently the smallest number of recorded deaths from an Endbringer Battle thus far, but even though this was perhaps the most successful encounter with Behemoth, he still killed scores of parahumans and thousands of civilians.
He'd marched straight through the center of Karachi from the Northeast to the Southwest, finally being driven off when he was practically spitting distance from the ports, but he still got the last laugh when he burrowed into the earth and set off a tectonic shift so violent a fissure tore through the city, flooding with the water from the Arabian Sea. Now there was a several hundred feet-deep trench splitting the southwest half of Karachi in two, which along with Behemoth's prior devastation, also destroyed several historical buildings and even the Tooba Mosque.
As it stood, Karachi as a city was dead. None of the government buildings were spared, the airport and central train station were completely destroyed by him, and he also ensured that any commercial value in the city was eradicated. People could still live here, thanks to my microbes killing the particulate radiation fallout, but it would never fully recover. Not to mention it seemed all the damage was secondary, because Behemoth's last act also destroyed the oil refineries at Karachi's coast and had dumped untold amounts of crude oil into the Arabian Sea, killing any local fishing industry as well as poisoning the whole region.
He may not have been able to irradiate anything permanently or detonate an oil or gas vein which he was known to do, but he still got to poison the city and every city and town along the coast for possibly hundreds of miles as well as killing a vast quantity of marine life.
I felt useless, even if I did save so many lives, several of the radiation victims didn't survive the violent tumor-forming phase of Stim trying to fix them. While most of them did survive, they were malformed and scarred from the Stim being confused by their heavily damaged DNA. Amy said they were like a comic book character called Deadpool, but I had no idea who that was. She said their mutations made them unstable, but the Stim was still working, so she just had to work on giving their Stim new orders and they'd be fine by week's end. Hopefully.
Then there was the crew.
We've lost nearly 20 pilots along with their Skiffs and all civilians aboard. Behemoth apparently didn't like it when people tried to save his victims and eerily kept sniping off Skiffs that held civilians. Since when was Behemoth his sister?
Mush was here in a tent. He layered himself in scrapped lead and old tires, and went right up to Behemoth in a massive gestalt of rubble and garbage about half the Endbringer's size and pounded on the monster well enough he stalled him a few minutes. He nearly died from the kill aura once it worked through the layers of lead and rubber, but he was saved by Legend dropping several of my microbe bombs right on top of them.
I was so relieved. We almost lost a guy who was with us from the start and seemed to have bigger balls than anyone assumed. He'd recover since his Stim was already accustomed to his unique biology, he just needed a week off, I wouldn't let him back on active duty any sooner if it could be helped.
Mush on bedrest and those brave dead pilots aside, we didn't lose many more people since we wised up after losing several Skiffs in a single disturbing lightning chain, but this massive death toll was hitting us hard, and we would be hard-pressed to recover from it, especially with the recent deaths preceding it. I'm fairly upset at the death's themselves, but I barely knew any of the dead beyond a professional capacity, I can't imagine how bad their friends and family among the crew must be taking it. Then again, I've lost my dad, and that pain never goes away, it just gets easier to bare. But this, this is a fresh, jagged wound on the spirits of the Merchants.
"ALL BROCKTON BAY PARAHUMANS! REPORT TO THE COMMAND TENT ASAP!" i jolted out of my depressed brooding and turned my gaze from the ruined skyline of Karachi towards the command tent. Compelled by the quite loud and authoritative announcement, I sprinted towards the tent and soon was standing amongst several Brockton capes.
I looked around in relief to see Skidmark and Trainwreck among us, even if Skidmark currently had an advanced robotic prosthetic clamped onto his left arm stump and shoulder. Again, Leet is fucking bullshit. Hey, when did Tattletale get here? She wasn't here when I came in earlier.
I was also relieved to see some heroes. Armsmaster and Militia were here specifically. It made sense that they would be in the command tent once the battle was over anyway. It seemed a few of the Wards were here, I could see Stalker staring at me from across the room, and I felt awkward with her so blatantly focused on me the moment I entered the tent.
"Alright, what's going on now that some more of us are here." Armsmaster demanded of the same Thinker that had grilled me about my bombs. Why had they left the head of Protectorate ENE out of the loop?
"About eight...numbers aren't looking good. Odds are bad. But if we wait longer...alright. The Truce has been broken by the MS13. We've gotten reports from the PRT that the villain known as Coco has attacked your Protectorate Headquarters. Silbón has assaulted the PRT Headquarters, and Cadejo has shown up at the BBPD's downtown headquarters." We all were clearly incensed at hearing the Thinker's news, but he continued on before we could respond. "We're arranging for Strider to get as many of you there to respond as possible, we'll also have him deliver reinforcements as volunteers become available."
"I'd rather get this over with, so could you all come outside!" Someone shouted from outside of the tent, and as the one closest to the entrance, I was first to be greeted with the sight of an average-looking man of average height and build with a very plain pale face under large goggles. He wore a heavy black and blue coat with a lightning motif along the buttons. That, along with his padded trousers, thick boots, and thick white gloves, hinted at his fragile nature. The traditional U.S Police style hat did little to improve this. "I'm tired, and I have to do more than one 'Stride' to get you to the other side of the planet."
"You realize there'll be more of us right?" Skidmark asked as we all gathered together.
"Oh, he does. He's already exhausted thinking of it. His power practically batters him for using it too much. Yikes. You got the shit end of the power stick Strider." Tats grimaced and rubbed at her temples.
"Hmph. Don't gotta tell me that. This everyone? Right, where to?" Strider asked of Armsmaster, which none of us villains took umbrage at. In this scenario, best to let the Heroes dictate things since we're under the Truce.
"The roof of-right, that was destroyed. The exposed top floor of the former Medhall building." Armsmaster specified, and the blue-clad hero nodded in acknowledgement.
"Alright. First stop on the halfway; Madrid, Spain." After Strider's words, the world snapped, and I had to blink at going from a police academy yard in the late evening, to nearly afternoon in the middle of an empty soccer stadium. Then, before I could even adjust, we were in the mid-morning light of Brockton Bay. "I'm heading back to await more reinforcements." With that, Strider vanished in a near-silent snap of reality being kicked in the balls, and I couldn't hold in the vomit anymore, spewing bile at my feet. Ugh…. Teleporting sucks.
"First time's always the hardest." Stalker commented as she roughly pat my back, and I groaned as I stood up and saw Tattletale nearly insensate on her hands and knees, also having lost her stomach. Skidmark and the rest were perfectly fine though. "So Halbeard, any reason we're up top here and not at the PRT HQ?"
"The reason, Stalker, is because of that." Armsmaster growled as he pointed out towards the bay, and I felt my blood boil at the sight of the Rig mostly submerged with barely a bit of the side above water. "As well as the fact that with Silbón's powers we might as well write off Director Piggot and the whole PRT building as a lost cause. The only reason I didn't have him drop us at the downtown BBPD headquarters is because I'm not going to blindly drop in on Cadejo of all people. The other reason…." Armsmaster paused, and the loud whirring that answered had us spinning around to see one of Dragon's remote-piloted craft starting up. "Is because Dragon and I anticipated these villains would go the whole way with their track record."
"I only have this one craft available Armsmaster, and I can't focus too much on being here and on rescue operations in Karachi at the same time." Dragon's voice echoed out from the craft, to which Armsmaster grunted as he and the rest of the group approached the opening side hatch while I helped Tats to her feet.
"You okay?" I asked my ally as I supported the shaking young woman's shoulders.
"Not really. Been running my power ragged, and it doesn't like having all the things it's trying to tell me suddenly change in an instant. At least through Squealer's portal it's a transition. But Strider's teleport was too much." Tats informed me as she leaned on me and we moved to enter the VTOL craft. "Fuck...the things my power told me about Behemoth. That thing was holding back. It was playing with us. What's the point of fighting them if they aren't even being serious?"
"Existential crisis later Tats, homefront crisis now." I insisted, trying not to let the panic her words inspired come to the front. "So you were out watching the battle instead of helping the Think Tank?" I had figured she'd have preferred not to pointlessly risk her life, so figuring out she had instead gone to the frontline and witnessed Behemoth directly was a surprise.
"My power works on observation Deal. If I can't see it, my power can only draw conclusions from given information. All I had to do was watch from the skies, far out of his range with binoculars, and I got more than enough. I've already told the Think Tank what I could get out of it, and it's not hope inspiring." Tats shuddered and wrapped an arm around my back and squeezed me. "I'm gonna need a vacation after this bullshit is over with." Figuring she needed some reassurance, I wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed her to my side in a one-armed hug as we sat down in the aircraft, making her calm down a bit and she stopped shaking so much, but was still shivering. "Thanks. Hugs are nice when shit gets bad."
"Didn't take you for a touchy-feely kind of girl Tats." I commented, which got a snort of amusement out of her.
"I'm not. But this is some serious shit I'm talking about. I'll spare you the horror until things settle down a bit." Tats replied, before letting go of our half-hug and then slugged me in the shoulder with a friendly grin. "Thanks for not letting your mind hit the gutter, but I'm still asexual."
"Hey, I'm as perverse and red-blooded as any guy, and I'm not the one who let their thoughts get dirty." I snarked in response to the beautiful blonde, who impishly stuck her tongue out at me and we shared a laugh. "You're a good friend Tats."
"The best, and don't forget it." Tats declared, before leaning over towards Stalker who had sat right next to Tats in a very confrontational way. I don't know what she whispered, but it clearly had Stalker perked up, to which I was wary what she was telling my love/hate companion.
"Tats. What did you just do?" I demanded nervously, and to my horror, Stalker was the one to chuckle and respond.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Stalker smugly replied. Bullshit! What did Tats just tell her?!
"Oh god, can you three get a room? As much as I like the idea I don't want to see the start of a threesome." Clockblocker, the only other Ward with us groaned from his seat across from us.
"Stalker, do I need to remind you about propriety and take you through another sex-ed class?" Miss Militia clearly threatened of Stalker, who grumbled and edged away from Tats and I with a visible pout from the way she crossed her arms under her chest.
"Hey, don't knock it just because you're practically celibate and married to your job." Tats poked at the older heroine who visibly bristled, so I interjected to diffuse the situation.
"What about you Tats? I thought you were asexual? If you're mocking Militia for being celibate, doesn't that mean you have experience? I know you have sexuality issues, but it's mostly because you can't get your head out of your panties isn't it?" I taunted my friend, who blushed scarlet and frowned at me.
"That's a low blow Deal." Tats didn't bother trying to rebuttal, I guess I got her good on that one.
"Cut the chatter. This is unprofessional and inappropriate behavior. I understand that you're not heroes and you don't have upstanding morals to adhere to. But as long as we're working together, please keep things civil." Armsmaster ordered, to which Skidmark grunted and nodded in agreement, so we all quieted down as the aircraft moved us through the air towards whatever our destination is. I was too caught up with talking to Tats to pay attention.
Needless to say, with our banter nixed, things got awkward quick with only the hum of the aircraft's engines penetrating the silence. We didn't have much longer to wait though, as the craft descended and we all hurried out to see the burning husk of the former BBPD downtown HQ with a few mutilated police corpses scattered over the entrance with blood and amputated limbs and torn out throats the name of the day. Save one.
I rushed over to the weakly breathing body of a red-headed policewoman and out of practice, flicked out my Stim case, which was thankfully replenished, and injected her in the intact thigh without hesitation. She'd had her left leg bitten off by massive teeth and jaws and was left to bleed out. I turned her over now that Stim had already gotten to work stopping the bleeding and looked at the barely conscious woman's name tag. "Can someone call an ambulance?! Officer McMullen here's still breathing!"
"Geno~?" I froze at hearing the delirious exsanguinated officer weakly utter Reverb's civilian nickname.
"No miss. I'm Dealer of the Merchants. You're seriously injured, but I've treated you with a Tinker serum that will save your life. Don't move too much, help is on the way." I informed the woman sternly, to which she weakly nodded and closed her glazed green eyes. Shit. She must know Reverb personally. If he wasn't going to help us out before, he better now that I'm going to give him a call. "Someone keep watch on her, I've got a call to make."
"To who?" Militia curiously asked as she had remained outside with us while only Armsmaster and Stalker entered the blazing inferno of the police department. The former's armor was possibly immune or resistant to the flames while Stalker's Breaker state was immune to the heat, so it made sense for them to go in and search for survivors, as well as being the most likely to survive an encounter with Cadejo, since his Breaker state while invulnerable, wasn't much stronger than a cow-sized dog, even if there were up to five of him at once.
"Someone who owes me a favor." I vaguely informed as I took out my flip phone and speed-dialed Reverb while I walked a short distance away. It wasn't uncommon for villains to know each other, so I figured even if the phone was captured, Reverb could just change his number since this was his burner.
"Yo Deal. What're you doing giving me a holler from the other side of the planet?" Reverb answered, since he didn't beat around the bush, I could assume he wasn't in public.
"I'm not. I'm back in Brockton. Do you know an Officer M.C.M?" At my question, the background noise that I just noticed because it stopped came to an end.
"Your next words better be well phrased." Reverb's threatening tone told me I was right.
"She was bleeding out in front of the downtown police department. I've stabilized her but fact is Cadejo nearly killed her." I paused as Reverb went on a furious rant filled with enough expletives to make Skidmark proud. "I have something to ask of you." I interjected in a break of his ranting.
"Ask it you impudent shit!" Reverb demanded as I could hear clattering and clicking going on in the background now.
"Kill Cadejo." Wow. That felt really good to say for some reason. Satisfying.
"I was going to anyway, ask something else." I heard a zipper on his end, he must be suiting up then.
"Help me locate either Silbón or Coco." With Cadejo most likely dealt with, I could turn my focus to either the towering golem of wood and bones, or the nearly unstoppable heap of rags.
"Hold on." Reverb put the phone down from the sound of it, and after several seconds, he picked it back up. "I hear something nasty going on over at the Trainyard." Reverb's grim words had my heart racing and fear shooting through my veins. "Better hurry, it suddenly stopped."
I hung up without another word, and ran back to the group to find Trainwreck helping Armsmaster move a horribly burned man out of the burning building. "Skids! HQ is under attack!"
"WHAT?! How the fuck-COCO! That bitch! I knew she might've-sorry heroes, but we've gotta go hunt down a nearly unstoppable cannibal." Skidmark took out his phone and speed-dialed someone. "Shit. Shit. SHIT! Answer! Fuck!" He dialed someone else. "C'mon. C'mon. Thank fuck! Haven's under attack! We need transport now! We're in front of the downtown BBPD building. Yes the burning one! Get here now!" Skidmark hung up. "Haven Dispatch isn't responding, had to call one of the safehouses."
"We would be willing to lend you a hand." Militia declared with all seriousness.
"Sorry babe, but even with the Truce we can't trust your bosses won't force you to spill our base's location. You lot do what heroes do, we'll take care of our own problems." Skidmark responded, then looked to me, Tats, and Trainwreck. "We've lost a lot of people today, and the past weeks. We're at the lowest we've ever been, and now some crazy bitch is trying to finish us off."
"Most likely thanks to info fed by Coil. He's the only one I can think of that would know where Haven is that isn't a friend. Or ally." Tats hinted at while looking at me, to which I nodded.
"Even more reason to kill him then. But as for now, we're going up against a bitch with a reputation second only to the Siberian. If you think you can't help, I won't begrudge you if you back out." At our silence, he nodded. "Good to have you, we have a bitch to kill." At the end of Skidmark's statement, a Skiff door opened in the street. Damn showman, always with the good timing.