Young Offender, Part 12:
"Looky, looky. Found you," Ember murmured as he lowered his binoculars.
Yana smoothed down the front of her purple dress and nodded. A slight whine filled the air and a bright streak flew over their heads. The five of them ducked under a fig tree until the night sky was dark again.
"Most certainly. That's one of them. It looks like the flier is gone. We'll need to be careful when we approach, even with him gone. 001 is probably still there. All of you stand behind me," Yana ordered, hoisting her walking cane. "This will give you a nice headache, my dear."
Yana pointed the topper of the walking cane at the dilapidated farmhouse after all of her men stood behind her, out of the way of danger. The pink crystal quivered and glowed.
Francoise let out a sudden scream as a piercing noise assaulted her ears. She covered her ears and made her way downstairs from her bedroom. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she could still see Albert and Ivan standing in the living room in their green uniforms.
She could see Albert's mouth move, but couldn't hear his words. She managed to say, "They are coming, but... can't make out anything about them... There's ringing in my ears!"
Albert nodded, snuffed the candles out, and drew his ray gun. Suddenly, it was silent. Francoise stood straighter, a headache lapped at her. She fought her anxiety as Albert waved them towards a side door. Albert went to open the kitchen door that lead to the outdoors. A loud crash in the living room, and a sudden flare of light and heat, stopped them.
Albert slammed the door open so they could get away, but he fell backwards with a stifled gasp. Francoise shouted, "Heinrich!" and knelt beside him, he was unconscious.
A white line streaked towards Francoise's face. Her arm jerked up, but a bluish haze deflected it. She was startled to see two young men with spiky hair. Both were identical, and both men carried whips with glowing white lashes.
"Hello, what do we have here?" one of them asked, a leer on his face.
"Looks like some escapees," the other said, with the same leer.
"Let's help them find their way home," the first one answered.
Jet felt the cool, early March air rush through his hair; he poured on more speed. His skin started to chill down. He fought to take in more air, but his lungs were automated with a regulator when he flew. It only reminded him he was tied down, not free. Whether it was to Black Ghost or the other cyborgs, his life was no longer his own.
He fought, over-road his automation, took in a large gulp of air and screamed with all his might. Jet rapidly plunged to the ground, tumbled and rolled against it, and landed on his back. He stared at the bright stars as he let his body struggle to even his breath. Amazement at the spectacular night sky quelled his anger. He had never seen anything like this in New York.
Stars were just something he couldn't enjoy in his hometown. Here, in the Italian countryside, he could see new things he never knew existed. And the stars were so beautiful. He shook his head and reminded himself he needed to make sure his friends were okay, no matter how many pretty things there were to see outside of New York.
He clenched his eyes shut, not believing the tears that were starting. He rubbed at them furiously. He hadn't cried since he was five and his father had burnt him with a cigar on his neck while his mother drifted in and out of a drunken stupor. He had felt trapped, then, and rebelled in every way he could. Now, the Black Ghost had ripped his flesh from him and was hunting him, trapping him all the same as when he was a little boy. It made him want to scream and shout his voice raw.
At least with his gang, he could understand and identify the other boys. They all had bad homes and were always up for fun, not always legal fun. He just couldn't understand the lives of the other cyborgs he was running with now. They were too different from him, even though they had all been attacked by the Black Ghost, too. Albert, Francoise, and Ivan were strangers he just couldn't trust; also, there was no way to find out if his gang, the few people he trusteed, were safe. It was what drove him towards New York. The guilt was pushing him hard.
/Jet, get back here quick! We're being attacked!/
"What? Ivan! What's going on?" Jet shouted to the sky, leaping to his feet.
/Hurry! Heinrick is hurt!/
Jet jumped to the sky and took off at full speed towards home, their home of several months. The only roots he knew beyond America were his Italian grandparents. He had grown to love life in Italy; it took away some of his homesickness. Now, he couldn't bear the thought of being ripped away from this new home and taken back to the Black Ghost. The thought froze his blood cold, he stopped in midair.
What if he went charging in and got caught, along with the others? No, he couldn't live with himself, imagining Francoise or Ivan being tortured any more than they were. They were just so innocent, unlike him. And Albert, Jet could feel it in his bones, that man was under tremendous grief he refused to show. There was something Jet could identify with Albert in the few glimpses he had. He knew the man couldn't... no, wouldn't... survive going back to the Black Ghost. He had a feeling Albert would do away with himself if the Black Ghost caught up with him.
He fired his boosters and headed back to the farmhouse. He wouldn't let anyone suffer what he had, and he would never let the other cyborgs experience that again. He wouldn't let Black Ghost have their way and trash their lives further. Ivan was right, they needed to be stopped!
"I'm coming!" he shouted into the night air, now subconsciously able to manipulate his lungs at his will. Something had changed in his body and he didn't know what it was.
Ivan watched Francoise draw her ray gun and aim at the twins standing in the kitchen. She sat on her rump and moved back on the floor slightly as they walked forward. They were leering down at her, chuckling and making her feel scared. Ivan was about to lash out and push the twins out of the door with his telekinesis; something was wrong. His chest grew tight and his mouth was dry.
Emotions swung wildly through his heart. He'd never really experienced them all that much, just minor and muted emotions. His ability to feel was so shallow compared to others. Now it seemed emotions were erupting in an uncontrollable assault. He clutched his head as a wave of nausea hit.
He shut his eyes and fought to steady this sudden onslaught of intense, vivid emotions; they were driving him into confusion. There were things he had never felt himself before, but had scanned from others using telepathy: there was lust, mixed with the familiar, fear. Many different, new emotions claimed his attention, a new one every half a second, blinding him to the point he couldn't summon his other abilities.
"You won't take us back!" Francoise's shout was at the edge of Ivan's awareness. He fought to open his eyes and struggled to move.
The twins chuckled and flicked their whips out: one held his in the right hand, the other held his in the left. She tugged down the pleated skirt of her dark green, protective uniform because their eyes roved over her bare thighs. She moved next to Albert, rose to her knees, and brought her ray gun to bear.
"Leave now! I'll shoot if you don't!"
They cackled and flicked their whips. "Drop the gun, 003, and we won't have to be hard on you."
"After all, we just need to take your body back..."
"... and they didn't say in what state," the twins taunted.
"You will not touch her," Ivan said through gritted teeth. They threw back their heads and laughed at him. Ivan now felt ridiculed, humiliated, and degraded. These were new things to him, hard things for him to understand because he had only observed them from a distance in others. To actually taste them for the fist time was extremely bitter and something he wanted to reject.
"Oh, you're so scary..."
"...the famous 001. What're you waiting for?"
"Not so tough, are you?" The twins taunted, gently flicking their electrified whips back and forth.
The desire to in inflict physical pain on another, and take carnal pleasure in it, hit him hard. It made him sick to his stomach to think such perversion lingered in his head. Anger, pain, lust, fear, joy, hate... It all flickered through his head at a speed almost too fast to comprehend. There were even emotions he couldn't put a name to.
"Say goodnight!" the twin on the right shouted and struck at Ivan. A flash from Francoise's ray gun knocked the whip away before it connected with Ivan's head. He trembled, looking at Francoise's intense eyes focused on the twin, her ray gun was steady.
"You bitch!" the one on the left shouted and swung his whip at her. It connected with Francoise's arms, just as her second blast barely missed the man's spiky hair. She gave a strangled gasp and collapsed on the wooden floor. The twins chuckled as the one on the right rearmed his self.
Albert groaned, getting Ivan's attention. A man with a rifle came through the doorway; he put his booted foot on Albert's neck and pointed the rifle at the German's aquiline nose. "Don't move a muscle, 004."
Albert froze, keeping his palms upturned; however, Ivan didn't miss the hateful glare in Albert's clear, blue eyes. A wave of insatiable rage filled Ivan suddenly, but he knew it wasn't his own. That's when a dire realization hit him, he was experiencing a new psychic ability: empathy. That's why he couldn't wake up sooner. His brain had been creating new channels for a new power.
His brain was expanding in leaps and bounds, now that he was in a teenager's body. It was growing so fast and he was unprepared. Fyodr Gamo thought this would happen to his son, but not at this rapid rate. The control wasn't there; his emotions were mixed and confused with everyone else's. This was a bad place for Ivan. Accessing his other abilities was becoming extremely difficult with his empathy blossoming.
Ivan felt himself being shoved to the ground by one of the twins. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to see if he could send another message to Jet. No use, but he did feel something far off, coming in closer: aggression and determination.
A woman with mossy hair and a walking cane stepped in the kitchen, followed by a giant, baby-faced teenager. The giant stooped and picked up Francoise, while one of twins knelt on Ivan's chest. The whip dangled in front of Ivan's eyes, but jerked away. A blur of red, yellow, and blue flashed. Ivan jerked upright and saw Jet tumbling with the twin who had him pinned.
They came to rest with Jet on top. He jerked the twin up and punched him so hard he fell unconscious. Jet jumped to his feet, but scooped Francoise's ray gun on his way. He aimed it towards the other twin who was charging him with a primal yell. Jet fired and laid the other twin low with a stun blast.
The rifle man brought his weapon to bear towards Jet. Albert's fist flashed upwards and landed in the man's gut. The rifle man doubled over, and Albert yanked the gun away. They struggled, but Albert easily shoved the man off balance and got to his feet. He turned the rifle on its owner.
Ivan caught sight of the mossy haired woman out of the corner of his eye. He fought through the emotional battering and eked enough capital energy to mentally shatter the crystal on top of the walking cane; he wasn't sure what it was, but knew it was dangerous. His nose burned horribly as blood trickled to his lips. He was satisfied to feel her sudden wave of dismay and then ire.
Jet turned to the giant teenager and gave him a smug, lop-sided smile. "Okay, put our girl down, and we won't beat the snot out of you."
The giant laid Francoise down. Ivan rushed to her side and gave her a vigorous shake. She moaned, shook her head, and sat up slowly. Jet walked over, keeping the ray gun trained on the giant, and helped Francoise to her feet with Ivan.
"You okay, Frannie?"
"I'm fine, Jet."
"Good, keep this on big boy. I'll be back." Jet handed Francoise her ray gun and raced away. Ivan smiled through the extreme physical pain, everyone's pain, washing over him; every bruise, every cut throbbed through his brain.
He knew what Jet was doing. He wasn't surprised when Jet showed up a few minutes later dressed in his dark green, protective uniform, ray gun drawn.
Jet chuckled and said, "I ain't taking a risk like last time... gettin' shot was no fun." He hoisted his ray gun up and sneered at the woman, "So are you Black Ghost stooges or what?"
Ivan caught the faint sound of jingling. He saw the woman playing with a silver charm bracelet on her right wrist. Her devious grin betrayed her and could feel her gloating.
"Jet, watch out," Ivan called out. His eyes grew wide when she snapped off a charm. Before she had a chance to throw it, Ivan's adrenaline kicked in. He engulfed his fellow cyborgs in his consciousness and drew them with him as he warped space around all of them. All he could manage was a short jump, and nothing of accuracy. He was hopping to place them next to a car, but he opened his eyes to see the four of them landed in the middle of the fig tree grove.
"Run!" He shouted, knowing what was on the woman's mind. They ran away from the farmhouse. A loud explosion made them all jerk and swirl around. Their farmhouse was engulfed in a huge bright fire, making the night sky blacker. Waves of conflicting emotions invaded Ivan, pressing into him so hard. He clutched his head, and a scream was forced from his dry throat. Blackness engulfed him as he drifted towards Francoise.
"So now what?" Jet asked, as he leaned against a grape arbor. He adjusted Ivan's heavy frame in his arms and looked over to Albert. The German was leaning over, hands on his knees, panting hard. He shook his head.
"What if they're still chasing us?" Francoise asked.
"We have to get away from here. I'm sure they are," Jet said, kneeling down and laying Ivan on the ground. He jumped up and looked at Albert. "We're in the middle of the Farina's farm. The old man has a beater truck that looks like it came from the bone yard. Wait here, and I'll go get it."
He jogged off to the barn, surprised Albert or Francoise didn't protest. Minutes later he crept into the dilapidated Farina barn and shoved the creaky wood door aside. He snagged a screwdriver off the workbench to his left and quickly hopped into the rickety, blue truck. It took him a moment to figure out the difference in a right seated vehicle from the left. It took no time for him to hot-wire the the truck and drive it back to his fellow cyborgs.
He popped his head out of the window and smirked at France and Albert's surprised expressions. Albert picked up Ivan and tucked him up in the bed of the truck, wrapping him in canvas. He yanked open the passenger door and helped Francoise onto the bench seat. Albert slid in and slammed the door.
Albert glared at Jet and asked, "Have you ever worked an honest day in your life?"
"Nope," Jet said, pushing the accelerator to the floor.
To be continued.