Chapter Two Hundred
...
"This is ridiculous; where in Super God's name are they?" Airborne muttered, looking up and down the street, and a few blocks around Westville, unable to see the police arriving or even on their way. "I've got villains tied up and they need to be dealt with promptly!"
He stopped in mid-air, waiting and listening for sirens, only hearing vague screams from over in Maxville and the wind blowing in his ears. He was certain that his parents would deal with the former, and unless he wanted to use earplugs and risk missing a citizen's screams, he had to put up with the latter.
Flying back down to the street where Shifter was waiting with the villains, Airborne saw her standing over the tied-up villains. She had her hands on her hips in a way that reminded him of his mother.
"Airborne, we need to take one of the villains to the hospital; he's broken a rib and it could have impaled his lung," Shifter said.
Looking at the villain who was wheezing shallowly, the sound wet and pained, Airborne struggled to keep his face neutral with the cameras whirring around them. "We can't take all of the villains to the hospital, and separating them isn't an option; you can't handle this many at once and you don't have my strength or flight to take the villain to the hospital."
Shifter felt her jaw clenching so tight her teeth ached. She took back every intention of rewarding her boyfriend for his earlier kindness; this was an embarrassment that everyone would see and hear! The media would probably talk about how Hero Support weren't strong enough to handle a villain on their own, despite the fact that she'd fought fifteen Super Goddamn villains on her own!
"You can carry all of us! Or aren't you strong enough, Airhorn?" one of the villains - Liv, Shifter remembered - snapped, though there was a hint of worry in her voice, her hand clutching Eddie's tightly.
"Olivia, shh," another villain hissed, his worry more obvious as he glanced between Shifter and Airborne.
"My name is Airborne, villain."
"Who gives a shit? He's dying!" Liv snapped.
Eddie made a gasping noise beside her. "'M dyin'?" he asked, blood splattering on his lips with the next wheezing cough.
"No!" Shifter said quickly.
"Yes, you are. Don't lie to a dying man, Shitter," Liv said with a glare.
"Shifter," she said, her cheeks burning red.
"I don't care what either of your names are; I care about getting Eddie to a goddamn hospital! We're tied up, we're not gonna run, and he needs help that neither of you can provide!"
Airborne stood in front of the villains - close to thirty Blue Hearts - and looked over the group, his hands on his hips as he tried to make an Important Decision. "I'll knock you all out and then I'll take him to the hospital. That way you can't run away from Shifter," he said firmly.
"We won't run!"
"You'll kill us with your power!"
"We'll stay right here!"
"You'll be back in a minute with your super flight anyway!"
Several villains protested, but Airborne held up a hand. "Those are the terms; either agree or let your fellow villain perish," he said, his voice firm. He was honestly hoping they would do what villains always did and look out for themselves, as he didn't want to individually punch each person; that was way too much work.
Liv stood up, swallowed hard, but had a look of determination that steeled her. "If you wear a power repressing cuff to knock us out, I agree. I don't think you can hold your strength back, and I don't want all of us going to the hospital instead of just one of us," she said.
Airborne scoffed and shook his head. "You might think I'm stupid, villain, but I'm not going to let you all overpower me by agreeing to that!"
"Your father's killed people by punching them and he has years beyond your control!"
Airborne glared. "I'm not my father!"
"Uh, Airborne?" Shifter said.
"Not right now, Shifter; I'm dealing with this villain. You either submit or I'll knock you all out anyway!"
"We've already surrendered, so you'd be knocking out unarmed and restrained civilians!"
"You're all villains from where I'm standing!"
"Airborne!" Shifter hissed, a sense of urgency to her tone that finally had Airborne looking over.
An older man was standing near Shifter, his suit and tie askew and he looked like he'd been caught in the crosshairs of a fight or three. Airborne thought he recognised the man, but couldn't remember from where or when, and wondered if he had a fan. More likely he was a fan of Jetstream and the Commander, considering his age, Airborne thought.
"Autographs and photos will have to wait until these villains are taken into custody. The police have really dropped the ball today," he said.
There was a smattering of laughter from the villains, and the man's eyes widened. "Excuse me?" he asked.
Emboldened by the villains' laughter, Airborne ignored Shifter's wide-eyed expression and the quick cut-throat abort motion she made. "I haven't seen a single police officer since the fight started; these villains need to be guarded until the police finally pull their finger out and send someone to collect them, and who knows how long that will take? There could be other villains getting away while I'm stuck here babysitting!"
Shifter's eyes widened. "Airborne, this is - "
"Now, now, young lady. It seems that Airborne has a few things to say about Westville's police. We shouldn't interrupt him," the man said, not taking his eyes off Airborne as he waved off Shifter's attempt at introducing him, and then indicated for Airborne to continue.
Proud that the man agreed with his sentiments, Airborne launched into a full tirade about the police's ineptitude and lack of care towards the Westvillean citizens. Behind him, more villains were laughing, and even Eddie's gasping wheezing sounds turned into laughing wheezing instead.
Eventually, Airborne's tirade ran out of steam, and Olivia got the attention of the man across from them. "Sir, we need medical attention; he's punctured a lung and Airborne refuses to take us all to the hospital."
"I told you we're waiting for the police so someone can guard you while I take him," Airborne said, not entirely sure how he felt about being addressed as 'sir' considering he wasn't old enough for that sort of honorific.
Maybe he needed to listen to his mother and start wearing sunscreen? Who knew what sun damage did to his skin while flying outside all day?
"I believe the young lady was talking to me, Airborne. You should take that man to the Westville Private Hospital before his lung collapses any further. I'll guard the villains with Shifter."
"But you're - "
"The Commissioner of Police," Shifter interjected.
"You... you are?" Airborne asked, the villains laughing harder still and he realised they weren't laughing with him, but at him instead.
"Yes, I am. Earthstone took his own initiative and delivered the Green Spades to us already, so I'll ensure he helps with the Blue Hearts if you're delayed with the hospital."
Airborne went to open his mouth, but Shifter smiled broadly and quickly stepped in front of him to face the Commissioner of Police herself. "I just wanted to thank you for your time and for coming here personally to assist myself and Airborne, sir. Airborne, you should take Eddie to the hospital now. Do you remember the way?" she asked.
"Of course I do," Airborne said, his entire face flaming red as he realised what he'd just ranted about to the Commissioner of Police himself. He untied the rope tying Eddie to the other villains, lifted him off the ground, and flew into the air without looking back.
Thankfully, he hadn't lied about knowing where the hospital was - he'd made a point of finding out exactly where the hospital was after he'd gotten lost trying to find Shifter when she'd been shot - and Airborne flew straight there, landing in the entrance of the emergency room with a solid thud. Eddie gasped in pain as the flight took yet another toll on his injured body.
"A villain has been injured; he has a broken rib and punctured lung and needs to be saved so he can go to prison," Airborne announced.
Several people were in the emergency room but no one rushed to help or even responded to his announcement.
"I can't hear you from back there; come to the desk," a nurse called from the triage station, waving him over.
Airborne huffed a sigh of annoyance and made his way over to the desk, still gripping Eddie in his fist.
When the nurse saw Eddie, they pressed a button on the desk, their eyes wide. "Dr. Sandsapien, Dr. Gleeson, emergency room, code blue," their voice echoed throughout the hospital speakers.
Airborne recognised the name Sandsapien from somewhere, but just like the Commissioner of Police - Shifter should have warned him was the Commissioner of Police! - he couldn't remember from where. As the elevator doors opened and several hospital staff rushed out with stretchers and syringes and whatever else they needed to save the villain's life, Airborne saw Sandsapien and remembered where he knew him from. "You! You're that villain!"
"Doctor, actually. Place the patient down carefully," Sandsapien instructed, taking a small light from his pocket and shining it into Eddie's eyes when Airborne followed his instruction instinctively. "Do you know your name?" he asked.
"Of course I do."
"Eddie," Eddie wheezed. "Hurts, Doc."
"I know. I'm going to put you to sleep and Dr. Gleeson and I will operate. You'll be fine," Sandsapien promised, ignoring Airborne.
In fact, everyone was ignoring Airborne. Worse, they were ignoring the fact that a villain was in the hospital and pretending to be a doctor!
"I've got my eye on you, Sandsapien."
Sandsapien continued to ignore Airborne, sprinkling some grains of sand into Eddie's eyes. Eddie fell asleep in the next breath, his breathing still shallow but no longer painful.
Airborne clenched his jaw and his fist, but realised the waiting room was full of civilians, so he couldn't make Sandsapien pay him the attention he deserved. Promising himself that he'd make the villain pay for the disrespect next time, Airborne flew out of the hospital and back to where Shifter was placating the Commissioner of Police.
...
Barney held Decima's hand as he guided her through the Sanctuary's entrance and into the lobby. "They'll be okay, won't they?" he asked, right as Lorcan screamed, their son's voice familiar and echoing throughout the building.
An elevator opened on the lobby floor, one of the orphan children holding the doors open for them. Barney guided Decima faster, both of their hands cradling her pregnant-swollen stomach carefully. Lorcan's scream had faded by the time they made it inside the elevator, but it didn't lessen their worry.
"Who hurt my son?" Decima asked, demanded, pleaded.
"I don't know, sorry. They're in the operating theatre," the girl replied, indicating over to the room.
"Lorcan?" Barney called, voice loud enough to carry despite the croak of worry. "Kiara, Maleah, Najair? Are you all right?"
Kiara was in the doorway, her face sooty and her hair windswept by flame and an explosion. It would have been funny if not for the expression on her face and the fact she had her arm in a sling.
Kiara was stoic, and while she and Maleah were as different as chalk and cheese, it was very difficult to damage either of their calm natures for different reasons. Maleah would be slow to anger where Kiara would jump in fists first, but Kiara would be dry eyed while her sister cried a swamp. Seeing Kiara's eyes full of tears now and tracks scoring lines on her cheeks made Barney's heart beat desperately in his chest. He didn't know whether to be afraid or angry, and he hoped it was a horrible, awful, terrible prank his children were playing.
"Is Lorcan... " Decima asked beside him, her voice wavering.
They'd both stopped short of the door, like their feet had turned to lead and they couldn't move another step.
Kiara sniffled loudly and shook her head. "Lore's hurt but he's alive. It's... Mama, Papa... Mal died."
With lead feet and paper legs, Barney fell to his knees like bricks.
Decima clutched his shoulder, her whole body trembling beside him. Barney knew that he was a pillar - broken and cut short, but still strong enough to hold her up for as long as she needed - and her grip on him was the only reason she was still standing. "How?" Dess asked, her question barely a breath.
Kiara's lip trembled worse than her voice. "She... she was shot."
Decima squeezed Barney's shoulder and he stood like a puppet. "Where are your brothers?" she asked, moving forward and gathering Kiara into a hug. "I'm sorry, querida. Questions later. Cry now, okay?" Dess soothed, her voice thick and tears in her eyes.
Key started to cry against Decima's shoulder, her whole body racked with sobs. Decima stroked Kiara's hair and let her own tears fall.
Still feeling faint himself, Barney looked into the room behind her and saw Alex and Dr. Spattle working on chipping jewels away from Lorcan's severed arm, his face covered with a mask to keep him unconscious during the procedure. Beyond them, one area was curtained off and untouched. He stood, feeling like he was being pulled across the room by an invisible string, a marionette with a master unseen. Barney stepped into the curtained area to see his daughter lying on the operating table, and Najair was sitting on a chair beside her, clutching her hand tightly. He was crying silently, but his whispers felt like shouts, the mantra of "I'm sorry" running over and over like a broken record.
"Najair, you're okay," Barney said, grateful beyond belief or words, gathering his son into a tight hug.
Najair kept crying, his mantra changing soon enough. "I was a coward, I'm sorry. I should have been brave. I should have been brave. I should have been brave."
"You're alive, that matters more than anything. We'll talk later, just cry now, hmm?" Barney said, his chin trembling as his own tears gathered and fell.
Najair clung tighter and bawled against his father's chest.
...
Mr. A stepped out of the helicopter and surveyed what remained of the Montana facility. "Survivors?" he asked the closest agent.
Agent C shook his head. "It's all been razed to the ground; even the basement is destroyed. There's nothing left but bones. Agent H has determined the bones were down there for a while."
"Losses?"
"The test subjects, employees, or both?" Agent C asked.
"The test subjects are all that matters. Employees are replaceable."
If C could feel emotions, he would have shuddered at Mr. A's ice cold tone or felt affronted at his words considering he was an employee and not a test subject. Instead, he gave a brief nod and counted in his head. "There were thirty-five test subjects in cells, and another fifty had been contained in the basement. Excluding the bones, fifty-five test subjects escaped."
"The scientists were meant to have six test subjects each; what happened to the thirty-sixth subject?"
"They died yesterday as a result of testing."
"And the babies?" Mr. A asked.
"Only five remained with genetic markers; there's no indication of the nursery in the wreckage."
"We lost sixty test subjects." It was a statement rather than a question, and Mr. A's face twisted in anger.
C didn't know what to say to Mr. A's words, and simply watched impassively as Mr. A grabbed a discarded and destroyed ray gun off the ground and threw it far into the distance.
"Where are the employees?" Mr. A asked, straightening his suit.
C almost felt relieved that Mr. A actually cared about his employees after all. "We haven't found them yet, sir. Agent H is checking the cars for bones, but everything was burnt up and the heat is beyond what we can measure."
"Let me know the second you find someone, dead or alive. Someone needs to be made responsible for this, and a gas leak will only cover so much."
"Yes, sir."
Mr. A looked at the broken gates once more, what remained of the Maxville Super Penitentiary buses, the blackened earth, and debris that remained of the Montana facility. He frowned and turned to look at C. "You said we can't measure the heat. What happened to the pyrometers?"
"The regular pyrometer and the super pyrometer both broke, sir."
Mr. A's eyes widened and he looked at the blackened landscape again. "It has to be the same team from France... This means we're under attack."
"How would you like us to proceed, sir?" C asked.
"Continue searching until someone is found," Mr. A replied, waiting and watching to ensure C followed his direction. Once he was alone, Mr. A took out his satellite phone and dialled a number. "Authorisation code A-530-LSG. Connect me to the senior officer on or off duty."
It took nearly a full minute for the senior officer to answer, and when he did, he sounded tired. "Mr. A, sir, you're calling earlier than expected. Is there a problem?"
Mr. A rarely allowed his subordinates to ask questions or answer back - it was one of the best benefits of using the machine in his opinion - but these subordinates hadn't gone through the machine, and he allowed them leeway as such. After dealing with the emotionless and monotone (apart from Bill) for weeks on end, it was always a surprise to remember that the people on the end of this phone call were human. Mostly.
"There is a problem, actually. A big one and you need to be prepared. Double security, increase the barriers and protections, and be on the lookout for a team with a fire super."
There was a brief pause from the other end. "A fire super would probably have a difficult time getting to us, sir."
"They aren't on fire all the time!"
"Sorry, sir, I'm tired after a 48-hour shift and my sleep was disturbed. I'm not thinking straight."
"You shouldn't be working two full days in a row. Request for additional personnel!"
"I did, sir. I submitted the paperwork last month and it was denied by HR."
"Well, consider it approved and whoever denied it fired. I'll deal with it myself," Mr. A added, mostly because he wasn't certain who had or hadn't survived the attack on Maxville yet.
"Oh. Thank you, sir. That's a great help." There was a brief pause, his subordinate clearly thinking about his next words. "Do we know who's attacking, sir?"
"No, but you have permission to use lethal force to defend yourselves and the premises."
On the other end of the phone, his subordinate smiled, broad and cruel. "Yes, sir!"
"Sir, we found someone!" an agent called.
Mr. A ended his phone call and headed over to the agent. R was new and eager to please, but also kind of a prick; it was a combination that still managed to make him smug despite the machine's efforts. In this case, he had reason to be smug as he'd found the partially burnt body of a scientist, and the soon-to-be cause of all this devastation.
Scientist Twelve was not only burnt almost beyond recognition but also had several deep gouges across his arm, chest, and face.
"I didn't think bears could get through the force field," Mr. A murmured.
The force field was still active, unlike France, which was why it had taken so long to organise an appropriate form of transport. It was the main reason he hadn't suspected the same team from France, but now with the heat beyond measure, he revised that thought.
"Take the body over to the helicopter. If anyone finds a trace of acid, inform me immediately."
"Yes, sir!"
...
Layla woke up in pain. Her whole body ached, bruises still in the process of forming or healing, and she felt like she'd been out in the sun for far too long with everything sensitive to the touch and stinging several layers deep. Her vines eased the sensation, but not fully, and she realised she was hooked up to an IV drip that probably had super strength drugs. She wasn't as hurt as last time, so Layla figured this was a temporary measure so Ida could ensure she was all right before letting her go.
Noise outside of the room drew her attention and Layla focused on the sounds of sobbing and shouting.
" - wouldn't have been there if not for me! She wouldn't have died!" Grant snapped.
"Babe, it's not your fault," Beau said.
"We were planning on going there anyway," Jewel added.
"Yeah, with more planning and not in a rush to save me! It's my fault she's dead!"
There was a beat of silence, another sob, a sniffle, and then another voice started talking.
"It is not your fault," Decima said, her voice firm despite the emotions she had to be feeling. "The Super Bureau kidnapped you, you would not have been there if not for them. They are the ones who shot Maleah, and they are going to pay for my daughter's death. It is not your fault, Grant. It is theirs."
"Are you... do you mean it? I'm so sorry, I would've done more if I'd - " Grant's words were cut off as Decima pulled him into a hug, firm and tight.
"You are not to blame, and you will help by making them pay, yes?"
"Yes, of course."
"Good. Now come, we will cry and mourn, and later we will celebrate Maleah's life."
Layla covered her face with her hands. She felt like the vines beneath her skin were unsettled and surging, and she couldn't concentrate long enough to settle them. Maleah had died, and Decima and Grant were both wrong: it was Layla's fault, not anyone else's. She had made the decision to go save Grant; she should have done more with her vines to save Maleah. The whole point of having her vines branding her friends was to keep them safe, and if they weren't safe, then what was the point? She should have done more. She should have used more power to keep Maleah safe instead of using it to tear the building and people apart. She should -
"Hippie, stop it." Warren sounded as pained and as tired as she felt, his voice rough with exhaustion. "It's not your fault. It's not mine, it's not Grant's fault. Decima's right: it's the Super Bureau. They're the ones kidnapping and experimenting on people, and they're the ones that shot Maleah."
Inhaling and exhaling through her tears, Layla knew Warren and Decima were right. It was the Super Bureau's fault, and they needed to pay for what they'd done. The vines beneath her skin settled as her resolve hardened, and she knew she'd never doubt herself like this again.
"We'll make them pay," Layla said, her voice as hard as her resolve, and wiped away her tears.
"Good; I'd be concerned if you were turning hero on me, hippie," Warren teased gently.
Layla snorted a laugh. "Definitely not, hottie. How are you feeling?"
"Burnt. It's not a feeling I'm used to or comfortable with," Warren admitted. "You?"
"Sore. Burnt, too, but I'm used to the feeling. Sort of."
There was a commotion from outside the room, both of them turning to look.
In the view of the doorway, Decima let go of Grant with a brief smile as he was attacked by a curly redhead.
"You're alive! I was so worried!"
"Craig?!"
"Yeah, who else were you expecting?"
"I wasn't expecting you since you're already here," Grant said with a frown.
"He's a copy. I stayed at the Hive as backup plan C and so I could do the time stops at the right time. I've been a mess thinking you'd all died and I didn't know what was going on. Then the printer started going and Adam's computer did ... stuff. Oh, and your mum arrived with a giant bag of cash. We sorted it and then sorted the paperwork that was being printed. Did you know the Super Bureau has reports on how to kill the Commander?"
"Craig, babe, slow down," Jewel said, amused and fond.
"You said my mother showed up? Is she all right? Where'd she get the money from?"
"I robbed a bank after throwing things at Jetstream and the Commander," Peggy admitted, sounding incredulous at her own words. "Grant, are you all right? I missed you," she said, her voice and lip wavering.
"Jewel, take Craig?"
"Of course; c'mere, babe."
Once Craig was wrapped in Jewel's arms safely, Grant moved to hug his mother tightly. "I'm home now, Mama. I'm safe."
Peggy burst into tears and hugged her son tightly. "I thought they'd killed you! They took you from me and I... I didn't know for days. I'm so sorry!"
"Why're you sorry? It's not like you've got a GPS on me," Grant said with a brief smile. "What's this about you throwing things at the Commander and Jetstream?"
"I... I needed to do something and Craig needed to concentrate without me there pacing back and forth. I thought... Well, I thought I'd be helping by distracting them for even longer, though Baron Battle's explosion almost got me. If it wasn't for the time stop, I'd probably be in prison or hospital or worse. I'm not apologising; I did what I needed to do."
"And robbing the bank?" Grant asked, pulling away to look down at his mother, still gently teasing but also far more concerned about the idea of her almost dying and he wouldn't have known.
Peggy gave a soft laugh, wet and sniffling, then shook her head. "Okay, fine; that wasn't something I needed to do, but I don't regret that either. I can pay Doc for your therapy sessions now."
Grant paused for a moment, as though he was going to argue, then smiled gently and pulled his mother in for another firm hug. "Thank you, Mama."
"Knock, knock. Can I come in?" Ethan asked from the edge of the curtain, drawing both Warren and Layla's attention.
"Sure. How are you?"
Ethan glanced down at his body, no longer bloated but still strangely bereft like he had extra space in his limbs and his body didn't know what to do with it just yet, then gave a noncommittal shrug. "Better than you two. You both protected us against the explosion; you had third-degree burns when you were reformed. You're lucky Dr. Spattle let your powers heal some of your skin before using the super morphine."
"We'll thank her next time we see her," Layla said.
"Should be about ten minutes after I get up," Warren said with a grin.
Layla gave a soft snicker of laughter, and though Ethan didn't understand the reference or why it was funny, he smiled in response anyway. Layla looked over at him again, then frowned. "Did we get everyone out? I remember someone getting shot as the explosion happened?"
"That was Jane, Kai's wife. She hasn't said a thing since we got here, not even after the bands were taken off," Ethan said, touching his own wrist and remembering how most of the test subjects had responded after having the explosive power repressing cuffs removed from their wrists.
There had been fear, joy, tears, a combination of those emotions, as well as others he didn't recognise or want to delve in too deeply. But Jane had remained blank, her eyes vacant and void, and Kai's hopeful expression had crumpled like a paper bag.
"Was the bullet removed?" Warren asked.
Ethan nodded firmly. "Dr. Plisetsky removed the bullet without any nerve damage; he even did a scan to ensure her vocal cords were intact. She's fine, just not talking. Doc's going to have an emergency session with her, but T and M have both said they haven't seen anyone come out of the machine's work naturally. Bill helped M, and T's trauma at her friend's death stopped the machine from working properly, but... there's others they worked with who still haven't spoken and they had the machine work on them nearly a month ago."
Layla frowned. "Who's T, M, and Bill?"
"Oh, uh, they're from the Super Bureau. Honey's vouched for them and they're on our side. Well, we haven't met Bill yet; he's at the hospital with G, according to Zero."
"Do we have names of everyone else we saved? I want to make sure we brand them sooner rather than later," Layla said.
Ethan winced. "Most of them are gone already."
"What?!"
"Honey and Zero said it was important 'cause Jetstream's coming back early and plans on checking the building; she was going to recognise too many of the test subjects, even with their... bodily changes, and the Super Bureau would've attacked."
Layla sighed in a mix of annoyance and frustration, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Where are they?"
"A mix of safe houses, the lower Hive, and I think a couple went to Honey's friend with the farm. Oh, but Phaser's still here; she needs Doc on-call for the first few weeks before she can meet Stare Flair."
There was a brief moment of silence as Layla and Warren both processed the information.
"Was anyone else hurt or killed, beside Maleah?" Warren asked.
"Lorcan lost an arm. He's getting a prosthetic from... uh, the guy who can manipulate metal; I don't know his name yet. Honey says you need to brand him first so he'll have better control, and Zero says you have to wait until Lorcan's actually agreed before he creates the prosthetic."
"Of course. Anyone else?"
"Kiara broke an arm but won't say how, and Ryuu was stabbed. It missed his vital organs, but Connor's upset because it means he was playing with his target rather than putting them down like Honey said he should, so... they're dealing with that. Physically, everyone else is mostly fine, just some burns and cuts from the building exploding that bypassed your barriers... Or they went through your plants and flames entirely, no one can agree about that aspect. On the other hand, the mental trauma was pretty significant; Heidi hasn't left Ma's lap since we got back, Zach's upset that Heidi's upset, and no one's told the adults what happened yet. We were all waiting to ensure you both woke up first."
Another beat of silence followed, then Layla sat up straighter, her posture making Warren tense.
"Hippie? What is it?"
"You said that Jetstream's coming back. When was she even here in the first place?!"
"I can answer that," Zero said from the doorway, grinning broadly. "I recorded it on the building's cameras, so we can all get a show. Molten, unlock that bed and I'll move this one. Quick, quick!" he said, darting forward to unlock the wheels on Layla's bed and guiding her, bed and all, out of the wide doorway.
Ethan smiled briefly and gave a nod of acknowledgement as he moved to do the same with Warren, both of the IV stands hovering and floating after their patients on anti-grav discs.
...
Jetstream had dealt with the vultures and more respectable journalists for a full fifteen minutes until the police arrived. She struggled to keep her smile firmly in place when she saw the police officers arriving on horses instead of in a police vehicle. She heard the snap of cameras going off, and forced the smile in place properly as she did a quick sweeping glance of the photographers amongst the journalists. They had all turned to take photos of the arriving police officers at the sound of clopping hooves, thankfully, and she was certain she was safe.
Off to the side, Sarah held back a laugh at the video she'd taken of Jetstream's face on seeing the horse-riding police officers. She could pause the video and use that disgusted expression for Labyrinth's front page tomorrow.
"Thank you for arriving so promptly! Baron Battle has fallen and will need reanimator services as soon as possible," Jetstream announced, several photographers turning back to face her.
"Yes, Jetstream; the Commander already advised us and the morgue sent a car. There's too much debris for them to take a direct route here," one of the police officers said, guiding the horse over and around the debris carefully to get closer to the bank.
Floating up into the air to see over the crowd, Jetstream could see a SUV with tinted windows in the distance. It was practically crawling down the road, and Jetstream could see debris from the bank and Baron Battle's explosion, as well as - oddly and inexplicably - office chairs scattered across the road.
As she went to say something about the lack of urgency of the morgue, she saw additional vehicles arriving, including a bulldozer. Before Jetstream could question their presence, one person stepped out of a car, their body shifted to have larger hands covered in gloves, and they ran forward to clear a path by pushing the debris out of the way. The SUV followed with another car from the arriving vehicles, and the journalists and photographers turned to see what was going on for themselves.
The large-handed person moved the debris to the side so it didn't hit the crowd, then used their hands to part the crowd for the two cars to drive through. When the aisle stayed, they continued through to clear another path towards the bank for the SUV.
"Hey! Be careful, that's a crime scene, and you shouldn't be disturbing the evidence!" Jetstream demanded, glaring.
"Baron Battle was the only person that blew up the bank, what other evidence is there?" one reporter called out.
"Was he working with an accomplice?"
"Did the accomplice escape?"
Jetstream turned at the onslaught of questions, still hovering above the ground. "Baron Battle works alone, as you all know very well; however, there were other citizens that attempted to steal from the bank while the Commander and I were trapped beneath the vault door."
She was positive she'd already told them all of this in her fifteen minute interview, so the fact that they weren't even listening to her made Jetstream clench her fist briefly.
"How do you know they attempted to steal from the bank if you were both trapped?"
"The citizens lifted the vault door off of us; the door had power-repressing beams in it," Jetstream explained.
There was a brief pause, more photos, and Jetstream might be repeating herself but she was getting more interview time than she had in years.
"So... you were saved by citizens who didn't actually steal anything from the bank? How did you and the Commander reward them?" Sarah asked curiously.
The Commander and police officer walked out of the bank that moment, leading the citizens out of the bank. They were tied up and several had obvious bruises from where the Commander had knocked their heads together, while a few looked dazed and possibly had concussions.
"They were planning on stealing from the bank, so make sure they're dealt with with the full extent of the law," the Commander said firmly.
"We saved you!" one citizen snapped, wrenching at the rope and cuffs to point at the Commander. "You'd still be trapped under a vault door if it weren't for all of us!"
Jetstream went to argue, but then she saw the coroner walking out with the second police officer, a sheet-covered body carried between them. Flying over to hover near them, Jetstream heard the coroner say, " - the reanimator will be able to do her thing this evening."
Jetstream landed on her feet and put her hands on her hips. "Why can't she do it now? What's so important that she can't do this straight away? This is Baron Battle, not an everyday villain!"
Neither the police officer nor coroner looked impressed at her outburst. The coroner paused and looked at her. "As I was saying, Morana is on her honeymoon and is catching three flights to get back to Maxville. She's paying for all of those flights out of her own pocket, and isn't getting a refund for the rest of her honeymoon, either," the coroner said.
The noise of the bulldozer covered Jetstream's response, and she turned at the noise, flying over to the large machine. "What do you think you're doing?!"
The man pointed to his earmuff-covered ears, then pointed over to the second car that had followed the coroner's SUV. "Talk to the boss!" he called loudly.
Jetstream glared, then flew over to the car, hovering near the person who had stepped out of the car. He was sweeping up glass and small pieces of brick and mortar, dumping the dustpan into a bin, and Jetstream's arrival blew dust and debris out of the pan.
"What do you think you're all doing? Who do you think you are?!" Jetstream snapped.
The man glanced over at her. "Patrick McKinnon, and you are?" he asked, tucking the broom under his arm and offering his hand to her.
Jetstream's eyes widened. How did he not know who she was?! Everyone knew who Jetstream was!
Paddy let his hand drop when it was obvious Jetstream didn't plan on greeting him. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, too. If you can move out of the way so we can do our jobs, we'll be done before the coroner and police officers need to leave. They've all been instructed not to go near the bank since it's a crime scene, according to what you said earlier," he added.
"You'll be done? You've hardly done anything!" she snapped.
One building down, a woman put on a burst of speed to collect the piles of debris into a larger skip bin, returning the bins to everyone before stopping to walk the rest of the way.
"She's clearly slacking off; let me guess: you're getting paid by the minute?" Jetstream asked with a scoff.
"We aren't getting paid for this. You haven't lifted a finger since we arrived, so stop talking about my staff and do something useful yourself," Paddy said, turning his back on her to continue sweeping.
Erna could only power up for five seconds and needed a minute's rest between each power up. After those five seconds, she was basically a citizen in terms of speed, strength, and vitality, but there was no way he was going to reveal her weakness to the likes of Jetstream.
Jetstream bit her tongue because the journalists were watching, and the photographers were taking more photos of the construction crew than her or even the Commander. Speaking of, where was her husband?!
Flying down to the ground, Jetstream grabbed a large piece of debris that was heavier than she expected, her shoulders and arms dropping down with the weight. She let out a small gasp as her whole body protested at the action; she might have recovered from being crushed by the vault door, but the extra strain on her previously-broken and fractured bones certainly didn't help. She dropped the debris, and Erna let out a scream of pain as the giant rock fell onto her foot, the collected debris and glass spilling out of the bin in her hands.
"Super God! My foot! Oww!" Erna cried out, tears springing to her eyes.
Jetstream's eyes widened at the woman's howling screams that immediately drew the attention of everyone in range. "I... Oh, dear. You'll be all right, your super healing will kick in, don't worry! Commander, you're meant to be doing the heavy lifting!" she called.
The Commander was over at the coroner's vehicle, talking the ear off the coroner and police officers' about his glorious battles with Baron Battle, and startled at his wife's call. "Coming, dear!"
...
End of the two-hundredth chapter!
Thanks for reading all this way! I can't believe it's hit 200 chapters!