Chapter 30
Despite Déjà Vu's insistence that the man would be harmless once sedated, none of us relaxed when he finally stopped moving. Revoke didn't let go of him, Flechette didn't lower her arbalest, and I kept my attention on the handful of bugs on his joints, ready to warn the others at the slightest movement.
"How are we even going to contain him?" I asked.
"For now, orders are to keep him sedated until Alexandria gets here," Revoke answered. "For the longer term, there are tinker devices that can create areas where powers don't work. Then again, I'm not sure what the higher-ups will decide. There's a kill order standing, after all."
I looked at the man. He was thin and dirty, with several layers of clothing in the way I usually associated with homeless people, and his truck had smelled like he'd been living in it and hadn't had a single shower in years.
That was it? The man behind the monster who'd terrorized the country for a decade? The one who would possibly be executed for his crimes? As shaken as I still was about my encounter with the Siberian, I almost pitied him.
Were the rest of the Nine even aware of his existence? If I had to guess, I would say no. I'd read about the infighting, the members killed by their own teammates. One of them would have tried to leverage his weakness, if they'd known.
A PRT van parked at the end of the alley, four agents coming out of the back to join us.
Revoke tentatively let go of the man, Flechette still aiming her arbalest at him, and nothing happened, so the uniforms grabbed him and brought him to the van as we followed.
We rode in silence to the PRT HQ. By the time we arrived, the word had spread, and a delegation was waiting for us in front of the boarded up doors.
The rest of the Wards, as well as Miss Militia, Armsmaster, Triumph and several PRT agents were there, gathered to see the man we'd captured as uniforms hauled him out of the van.
As we joined the rest of the Wards, Weld clapped Flechette and I on the back.
"Good work," he said.
"Now, if we can just get Shatterbird, Dragon will be able to step in," added Armsmaster.
"That would be a game changer," Miss Militia conceded.
"It's really him?" Asked Clockblocker as the uniforms carried the unconscious man into the building.
"Yes," Revoke confirmed.
"Is it really a good idea to put him in a cell just below our headquarters?" Asked Vista. "What if he wakes up and summons the Siberian here?"
"We'll keep him sedated until Alexandria can bring him to a more secure location to interrogate him," answered Miss Militia.
A slow clap sounded in the distance, and we whirled around in its direction.
The people I found there made me regret focusing my attention on the Siberian's maker rather than on my surroundings.
Jack Slash, Bonesaw, and a pretty young woman with a stripe of red in her long, dark hair stood thirty feet to our side, at the corner of the building. Mechanical beings the size of a dog, with spidery hydraulic legs trailed behind them.
White smoke rolled around them. I tried tagging them with bugs, and the bugs died in contact with the smoke, like it was some kind of bug killer. I noticed they were each wearing a vial on a chain around their necks, which seemed to be the source.
"Bra-vo!" Jack said, stressing each syllable. "Truly didn't see it coming, that the Siberian would turn out to be some random homeless man."
Next to him, Bonesaw looked upset, frowning. He put his hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry, poppet. There will be others. Soon enough, you might gain a new big sister. Now where's that smile?"
She smiled at him, but her eyes were still shiny and red.
"What are you doing here?" Asked Miss Militia, aiming a rifle at them and positioning herself in front of the rest of us along with Armsmaster. "Are you trying to break him out?"
"Worry not," he said with a dismissive hand gesture. "Now that the Siberian's mystique is gone, so is her appeal. No. We're here to invite one of your own to a game, a challenge, if you will. You see, we decided to do things a bit differently this time, to shake things up. Bonesaw insisted to nominate Panacea as our sole candidate, and in exchange for her participation in our tests, we promised her that we would focus our attention on the people she wanted us to target. Set up some games starring them."
Glory Girl's hand flew to her mouth at the mention of her sister.
Something twisted in my stomach at his words, the threats Panacea had made at the bank sounding through my mind, as well as her words when she healed me after Shadow Stalker's attack, about how switching sides changed nothing about her feelings about me.
"She's figured it out," said the girl with the red stripe. Something about her reminded me of someone, but I couldn't tell who. "Tell me, little worm, do you know how much everyone here resents you? Nobody wants you here. Kinda like at school."
I bristled at the mention of school, but there were hints about her power there. She could read emotions, it appeared.
She continued. "To the people in charge, you're just a burden, a headache, a bunch of trouble and a walking conflict of interest. They might placate you for appearances, but they all wish they didn't have to deal with you at all. Some of them have even wished for you to die."
It stung. To die? Really? I would have thought they would wish for me to transfer elsewhere, at most.
"What about your so-called teammates? The one in charge who finds that the team isn't working because of you? The one who might joke about it but still has nightmares about you? The heartbroken midget you constantly remind of the teammates she lost? The geek who's building somethings to keep bugs out of his room because he doesn't trust you? The lonely one who just wanted a friend and had to settle for you? The newbie who resents you for messing with her sister and being a villain?"
"That's enough," said Armsmaster. "I can tell that you're trying to mess with my emotions, and are surely messing with everyone else's. It won't work on me. I've set up psychic and empathic shielding to protect myself from Masters like you."
The girl shrugged. "Sure, but I could still read you when you took your helmet off, in the past few days. The arrogant geek. The worst of them all. So full of resentment. And what is that? Guilt? Shame? Why feel so guilty about her? Could it be—"
"You're lying to sow discord in the ranks," Armsmaster interrupted.
"Look who's lying now."
"That's quite enough, Cherish," Jack said. "As entertaining as this is, that's not what we came here for, and we're on a schedule." He turned toward me. "Apiary. Skitter. Whatever name you go by these days. We have your little friends. Come with us, play our game, and we won't touch your teammates. Refuse to play, and everyone here pays the price."
My little friends? Was he talking about the Undersiders? I tensed, cold seeping through my veins at the prospect.
"Nobody's playing your games," said Miss Militia, cocking her rifle.
Jack gave an exaggerated sigh. "A shame, really. Bonesaw?"
Bonesaw raised a hand, holding a vial. "These are special prions I made. Kinda like Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, infecting the brain and making a sponge out of it, but with an onset of three days between exposure and death. And it won't be a fun three days either. Personality changes, mood swings, hallucinations, paranoia, seizures, loss of motor control, then psychosis, and finally death. Completely and utterly incurable."
I swallowed, bracing myself.
If I had to choose between my death and the excruciating death of everyone present, it was an easy decision. An acceptable price to pay.
I stepped forward.
"Apiary," said Miss Militia, her tone a warning.
I took another step, then another, and kept going until I faced the trio.
"If I go, you won't hurt the rest of them?" I asked.
"I'm a man of my words," said Jack, which I noticed wasn't a confirmation. "As long as they don't attack us, we have no reason to attack them."
I nodded. "Then, I'm coming."
Jack smiled, holding his hand out to me. I took it.
"Heroes," he said with a bow, "we'll be on our way. Any attack, and we're going back on our deal."
He turned around, dragging me along. Bonesaw took my other hand.
I didn't look back.
Once we had turned the corner and were far enough not to hear, bugs coalesced in front of the heroes, forming a humanoid shape. The grasshoppers and jumping spiders in the mix allowed me to see and hear.
"That was by far the stupidest thing you've done," said Armsmaster, irate.
"Yeah?" Answered my bugs, "You can make it less stupid by taking down Shatterbird while I keep them busy, so Dragon can step in. Don't come after me, or the emotion-reading cape will know it."
He grumbled something I couldn't make out.
"Can Déjà Vu help us?" Triumph asked.
Revoke shook her head. "Her power will be out of service for at least a week after the stunt she pulled to find the Siberian's maker."
"Apiary," said Miss Militia, "be careful."
I dismissed the bugs.
I had no idea how to get out of my current predicament. The way I figured, the best I could do was stall them so they weren't doing damage elsewhere.
We walked for a long time, heading North of the PRT HQ.
Bonesaw was humming and skipping in the water, her yellow rain boots splashing it around.
"So," said Jack. "Why change teams if you're obviously not wanted?"
Did he really have to make conversation? It felt strange, exchanging small talk with someone like him. A serial killer.
"I had my reasons," I answered.
"Like?"
"The Undersiders and I had a disagreement, and I didn't want to be on my own."
"Not the most ambitious of answers."
"That's not all there is to it," said Cherish. "The heroes cornered you, tried to force you to make a deal. You accepted because you wanted to rescue someone. The drugged girl."
How did she know so much details?
"Perks of my power," she answered as if I'd spoken aloud.
"A damsel in distress," Jack said, grimacing. "How noble."
I didn't answer.
I was beginning to recognize my surroundings. My house wasn't too far. At first, I thought this was where we were headed, but we went past it and kept heading North-West.
We arrived to a part of town that had mostly been leveled by tidal waves, near Winslow High. That's when I felt them.
People were gathered in the remnants of the school, each person bound to a seat. One of the people was tied with something different, that I couldn't quite wrap my head around. Forty people or so in total, separated in two groups in what used to be the school's auditorium. It had been at the center of the first floor, and the walls on two sides were still partially standing, while the second and third floors had been wiped by Leviathan.
My bugs tried to untie them, but the ropes were too thick, the knots too intricate. I didn't have the right kinds of bugs to see or hear, so I was limited touch. I tried to evaluate the people's silhouettes, to find the Undersiders amongst them, but couldn't. Several fit with Tattletale or Regent's shapes, but none fit with Bitch or Grue's. I would have to wait until we arrived to figure out what was going on.
Finally, we arrived where the entrance of my school used to be. Only a few feet remained of the outside walls, the doors gone.
Jack motioned for me to go in first.
I navigated the debris, taking my time so I wouldn't trip, and slowly made my way to the auditorium. We arrived to what used to be the side entrance to the stage, which was more or less intact.
"Go on," said Jack.
I pushed what remained of the door, entering the stage. A heavy curtain hid the audience. It appeared to have been installed after the disaster, held by a pole affixed to the crumbling walls.
"And, curtain!"
The mechanical beings pulled on ropes to open the center of the curtain, revealing the prisoners.
I immediately recognized about a third of the people, and finally understood what Jack had meant when he talked about my little friends.
It wasn't the Undersiders.
In the front row, in the group on the left, was Emma, tracks of mascara running down her cheeks where tears had fallen and were still falling. Left of her was Madison, also crying, her eyes widening in surprise and panic as the curtain opened. On the right, bound in fairy lights that ended in a small generator, was Sophia. She snarled when she saw me. Next to Sophia was Julia, looking alarmed, then in the second row were the more peripheral bullies: Heather, Nina, Caroline, Sarah and Eve. The ones who had been with the trio when they cornered me outside of class, when Mr. Gladly looked on and did nothing.
Completing that group were Principal Blackwell, Emma's dad, Mr. Quinlan, and Mr. Greene, my gym teacher.
Mr. Gladly wasn't there, and I was reminded of his presence at the shelter Leviathan had breached. I guessed he hadn't made it after all.
The group on the right was twice as big, and I didn't recognize anyone. They were of all genders and ages, with the youngest being a boy about Dinah's age, and the oldest, an elderly woman with white hair and wrinkled skin.
"Are you familiar with the Trolley problem?" Jack asked.