Chapter 10: Generation Gap
"P-Piz-za..."
"Hrrrmmm..." Splinter took a look round his four small charges. Three of them looked back at him with differing levels of attention. One of them was wandering off. No prizes for guessing which...
Splinter picked up Raphael as he moved away, turned him round and set him on the ground again, and watched him return to the others without breaking his stride. "Turt-le..." he said again, slowly, beginning to get a little impatient.
"Piz-za..."
Splinter sighed. The task he had undertaken was proving to be a little more difficult even than he had imagined. Who knew how long it would take, and indeed where it would lead him and his four protégés..?
As Leonardo was slammed into the tunnel wall for the fourth time, he fancied he heard a disturbing sound. Like an eggshell breaking, if you could imagine something similar to but many times tougher than an eggshell. That wasn't good. Would his shell heal if given the chance? He hoped to have the opportunity to find out.
"What?" Lying on his back a few feet away, Raphael was still in denial about what was happening to them. They had tried going in one at a time, they had tried going in co-coordinated waves, and they had tried rushing him en masse. Splinter was unbeatable, at least to them. He barely moved, that was the infuriating thing. A sidestep here, a nonchalant trip and a barely perceptible whack with his stick equaled one Turtle senseless on the ground.
Of course, they had to use kid gloves. They couldn't risk harming their master, though Leonardo suspected there was fat chance of that anyway. There was no trick he could devise that Splinter wouldn't be able to counter, indeed most of them would have been the ones he had taught them in the first place. They couldn't use their superior agility in this confined space, and even if they could he knew Splinter would probably find a way to counter that too.
Leonardo had no cards left to play, and he had a horrible feeling they were running out of time.
"Leo-nardo," said the little Turtle with the fleck of blue paint on his shell for ease of identification. He looked pleased with himself, and indeed Splinter was pleased with him too.
"Raph... Raph-aye-ell..." said the little Turtle with red paint, though there was no mistaking this one. He shot a triumphant look at blue. Anything you can do...
"Piz-za..!" said orange. As Splinter's head snapped round to look at him, with a slight frown, he looked mischievous. "Kid-ding," he added. And then "Mike-al... Ange-a-lo..." To be fair, his was the most challenging, and Splinter felt a little glow of pride.
One more. Splinter turned to the remaining Turtle patiently. He couldn't expect them all to be equally intelligent, he supposed...
Purple was seemingly engrossed in one of the tattered books Splinter had hauled some time ago from a storm drain. Realizing there was silence, purple looked up and quickly ascertained it was his turn.
"Don-atello," he said quickly, precise over the first syllable and rushing the others out. He looked uncertain. Was it all right to go back to the book now?
In that moment, Splinter reconsidered all his expectations for his charges. He felt dizzy with the possibilities...
Michelangelo staggered forward with what he felt sure would be exactly the sort of facial expression that would save him from another beating. It was his very best Hey, can we sit down and talk about this? face. All he had to do was get Splinter to listen, and everything would be fine. He was certain of that.
"Master... Is this because I didn't do all the flips..?" Michelangelo fell on his face as his legs were swept out from under him by Splinter's stick.
"Guys... We're getting nowhere," Raphael announced reluctantly. Leonardo knew how much it would hurt him to accept failure, and it hurt him just as much to agree.
As he sat in silence, the Turtles seemed to recognize Splinter's desire for privacy and all went about their own pursuits. Till, coming to a decision, he stopped them.
"My sons..." They turned back to look at him, and as one came back to sit at his feet. "I have a new word for you..."
"Splin-ter," said Leonardo eagerly.
"Very good." Splinter smiled faintly. "That is my name, yes. But I have another name also..." There was silence as they waited for him to continue.
"Sensei..."
Leonardo took a moment, just a moment, to rest. He desperately wanted just to lie there, let his pummeled body rest, but obviously he couldn't. He was needed, here and now...
He shook himself. How much time had passed? He quickly looked round and realized Raphael and Michelangelo were also slumped on the filthy floor of the tunnel. Where was Splinter? Looking up, he caught a glimpse of a long tail disappearing into the tunnel on the level above.
He was getting away...
A tense silence had fallen over the Foot's junkyard stronghold, in the expectation that at any time their plan could come to fruition... At any time, they could show up. Time passed, armed Foot ninja marching back and forth swiftly, weapons in hand. Focused, prepared... ready.
In the workshop, April held very still as a Foot ninja walked past outside the window on his patrol and then before long back in the other direction. He would be back soon - his patrol took him past with monotonous regularity, and she knew she had a little under thirty seconds out of his sight...
She got back to work on the rope binding her wrists. Concentrating intently, digging with her fingernails at the one rock-hard knot that was just within reach, April was hyper-conscious of the scratching sound her efforts made in the quiet of the empty workshop. Whether or not the sentry could hear it, it sounded horribly loud to her, as did the creaking of the taut rope and the rickety wooden chair...
It soon became clear the ropes weren't going to give at all, they had tied her way too securely. As she fought her rising panic, a faint sound over to the side caught her attention...
April froze, wide-eyed.
The rat was only a few feet away, nose twitching. It was a big rat - not as big as Splinter, obviously, but still big. On the plus side, and she really needed a plus side right now, it looked like she had overcome her old musophobia... She supposed routinely interacting with a giant talking rat will do that for you... No, this was OK, if a little odd, so long as it didn't-
To her alarm, the rat came closer!
April instinctively tried to lean forward to keep it in view, and was painfully reminded of the coils of rope holding her to the chair - the rough hemp cord dug in even through the robust leather of her jacket. She heard its light footfall and felt it run beneath, and her automatic cry of alarm was as much stifled by her own self-control as it was muffled by the tape over her mouth. Even so, behind her April's bound hands wriggled, and she turned her head first one way then the other to try to find the rat again. Where had it gone...?!
The rat paused to investigate the rope binding her ankles, untroubled by her boots squeaking together as she squirmed and tried ineffectively to kick out and shoo the creature. Finally, it appeared again in front and turned to face her.
Suddenly it seemed more alert, standing up on its rear legs - Taken aback, April stared back at it. Was she imagining this...? Could this be the same rat she had seen in her apartment that morning? Or was that just crazy...?
What are you doing, Whiskers...? This was so strange... Baffling, in fact. The way it was watching her, the rat seemed to expect her to...
"Mmmff..." A little uncertain, April offered the rat a tape-muffled greeting - It seemed only polite. Unsurprisingly, it offered no reply.
Well, if she was going crazy she might as well pull out all the stops... April closed her eyes and concentrated intently. Hi. I know it's a really, really long shot, but I don't suppose you're some kind of psychic rat who likes to gnaw through rope, are you?
She opened her eyes again, looked down at the rat... and felt really, really, silly.
The Rat King sat on his makeshift throne, deep in concentration to keep the mental link with his servant open. The voice came through as clearly as if its owner had been in the room with him, and the ghost of a smile twitched his cracked lips. He admired the spirit that made her defiant and resourceful, even humorous, even in her current predicament, and toyed with the idea of making his rat spy release this April O'Neil.
It could be done. He could give her at least a chance to escape. Even if she was quickly recaptured - and that was most likely - it might be diverting... He lost focus as a wave of what could almost be described as dizziness befell him, and instantly knew that something important was happening elsewhere. The Rat King shifted his attention.
April O'Neil would have to stay where she was after all, he resolved indifferently - the Foot Clan would decide her fate.
Holding the rat's gaze for what seemed like a long time, transfixed, April really didn't know what she expected it to do - She was just hoping for... something. The tiniest opportunity for a way out of this. She could, quite frankly, forgive herself for not being at her most logical right now. This was not normal behavior for a rat and, weirdly, so weirdly, that actually gave her a little hope.
"Mmmm-mmmfffmmm...?" she demanded, still just a little hopeful. "Mmmmff...?"
The Foot sentry walked past the window again, and with an effort April stayed completely still till he had passed. By the time she looked back to try to find the rat once more, it had disappeared into the darkening shadows of the workshop.
She twisted round as far as the ropes would allow, which was barely at all, searching for any movement... No, the rat really had gone. April sobbed despondently, but quietly, still careful not to unduly draw attention.
Irritably, without for a moment believing it would achieve anything, she again tried to dislodge the long silver strip that gagged her, attempting to rub her cheek against one shoulder before giving up with a muffled cry of frustration. The ropes were bad enough, but the duct-tape... Not only was April pretty sure it was unnecessary, it was clearly just mean for the sake of it...!
Splinter led the Turtles on a chase they could not have imagined him being capable of. Through the tunnels they went. When the rat failed to shake them off, it was up again they went, out into the outside world, and the streets of New York.
It wasn't quite dark yet. This was something Splinter would never do. If they had harbored any doubts, now they could be certain their master was not in full control of himself.
Up again. A fire escape, up and up and up and up... Onto the roof. Across the roof. A dizzying moment as they jumped across the narrow alley far below... And again. Another roof. Another dizzying jump. Again and again till they no longer got dizzy and till their leg muscles ached.
Not one of the Turtles thought to complain, or to slow down or to worry unduly about being seen. This must be done. They would carry on till they dropped finally from exhaustion. Or until...
Splinter ran out of buildings.
Even fresh, none of them could make the jump from this roof. The gap was far too wide, with a drop of more than a hundred feet below. Splinter stood on the edge and turned back to watch as the three of them ran up and confronted him. Doubled over, gasping for breath, hearts and lungs working overtime. If he could just give them a minute to recover...
"Back..!" Splinter shouted at the Turtles, as they rushed forward with their new weapons held ready. This was too dangerous. It was too early for them to be tested this way. They just weren't ready.
In the dark tunnel, he could not even see their assailant clearly. He just heard the splash as it entered and exited the water, and occasionally in the brief illumination provided from above by a streetlight through a drain cover he would see a quick glimpse of some kind of scaly hide.
The creature was large, and it was hostile.
"Back...!" he called again. This was not their test. It was his. How far would he go to protect them? What would he sacrifice..?
As the creature passed under a shaft of light and stayed there for a moment, Splinter got a better look and noted with a detached interest that his adversary was an alligator. More knowledge he had managed to glean from the books to which he owed so much. It was, however, like no alligator from the books, it walked upright like a man. A creature like themselves perhaps..?
There was no more time to think. The creature was almost upon him. He could give his sons time to get away. What would he sacrifice..? In that moment, he knew the answer...
Leonardo and Splinter made eye contact. The Turtle felt a glow of fresh optimism as he recognized his sensei's spirit behind the eyes, for just a second. He wasn't gone.
Relief flooded Leonardo as he realized everything was going to be just fine, and he turned to reassure the others...
Just at the moment that Splinter stepped off the edge and fell out of view.
Next: The Turtles are shell-shocked, the Rat King steps out and April rocks...