Sister burst from her stone shell with an eager gasp for breath. The previous dawn had found her wondering if she was going to die of suffocation, trapped in a freight car. Now, cold fresh air filled her lungs and she sighed in relief as the long-awaited oxygen met her brain.
Once her eyes adjusted to the strange, pulsing light that came from high above her, she gasped once again, this time in surprise. She was staring straight into the face of Bronx. But no, she blinked again, and realized that the cheerful-looking maw before her was not that of Bronx, but a lifeless imitation of a gargoyle beast, poured in concrete. She felt around the cramped space surrounding her and her own claw landed on a strange hand, this one on the outstretched arm of a dancing little girl, her concrete skirt frozen mid-twirl. Sitting all around her were a collection of frogs, fairies, angels, gnomes, lizards, birdbaths, and one velociraptor, holding a globe covered with a mosaic of bright blue pieces of stained glass. Sister let out the first giggle she'd had in several nights. The confused shipping yard workers that opened her crate must have classified her as a garden ornament!
Slowly, she inched her way past the fanciful menagerie and crawled out onto a sandy, concrete floor. To either side of her extended a long aisle that was lined with steel bays that were with pallets and bags of landscaping products. Shelf after shelf extended upward to a ceiling high above her where a loud, electric light buzzed. It was a formidably lonely hall, with no sign of any life in it. Uneasily, she chose a direction to head and made her way through the strange, dark floor which was punctuated at equal intervals by stark circles of unpleasant light from overhead.
Suddenly, she stopped. A strange creaking sound was approaching her. At first, she thought of a rat, but this sound was too even and mechanical. Sister froze in anticipation, until a strange, tall, and bulky shape crept into the aisle several yards in front of her. It moved smoothly into the center of the aisle, then with a series of beeps, pivoted toward her, indicator lights flashing.
"A robot!" she realized, not certain if this was good news or bad. Either way, the machine was approaching her quickly and she scrambled to the side to get out of its path. The tread wheels rattled quietly as it came nearer and towered over her. Sister noted a sensor on the front of it and a round, reflective dome which she thought looked like a camera lens. She quickly ducked for cover inside an empty bay, hoping the machine wasn't there for security purposes. It passed by, stopping abruptly and pivoting toward her. Long, metal arms extended just above her head and the machine lifted a full pallet of gravel and drew back into the aisle, pivoted back toward the center, then continued with its task. Sister breathed a sigh of relief, then scurried out behind it. She made her way toward the center aisle of the massive warehouse, where she encountered several more robots, all of which passed her with only an unconcerned chirp. They were programmed to sort inventory, not trespassers.
The only sign of actual living humans Sister encountered were some shadows that moved around behind a lit security window of one-way glass that overlooked the floor. She hurried beneath this window, and found a ladder, suspended from the ceiling, at least twenty feet in the air. It was nothing for her to climb up the end of a shelf and spring to it, quickly scrambling up the rungs to the ceiling and pushing open the heavy door at the top, giving her access to the roof. She closed the panel with a loud slam, then settled herself on the rooftop.
Below her was a long row of similar warehouses, all surrounded by driveways and serviced by various trucks that came and went continuously. A foul-smelling creek ran adjacent to the shipping yard, and over several rows of trees and houses, Sister could see the jagged skyline of the city of Chicago on the horizon. At least, she hoped that's what city it was. She took a deep breath and studied the glowing horizon with hopeful determination. Alexander was somewhere in Chicago and Adelpha was with him. Sister would find them and tell them what had happened with the clan, and together, they would figure out a way to recapture Coldsteel and fix the calamity she had caused.
Sister zipped opened the pink pouch that she always wore on her hip. Inside, her phone still rested temptingly against the discarded piece of cardboard where she had written everything she could find online about Alexander's current position and residence. She had turned the phone off at the start of this journey, and removed the battery from the chamber, so it could not be powered on remotely. All through the long, lonely hours she had spent in the freight car, she had reached for it, holding it tightly in her hand, longing to turn it on again and see if the clan had sent her any messages.
But then, she realized that the moment she turned it on, Lexington would be able to track her. Anxiously, she wondered if he was trying to track her now. She knew she couldn't let herself be caught before she found a way to bring Coldsteel to justice. What would Brooklyn say if they were to find her first? Surely, he would drag her home, only to take away her warrior training privileges. Perhaps he would even want her locked up or worse! She thought of Angela and Broadway, and how disappointed they would be with her and tears burned in her eyes, which she wiped away bitterly. Would they be angry enough to want her banished from the clan? The thought of having to face Angela and explain what she had done made her sick, but the thought of never seeing her again was much worse! She wondered with a grimace of pain, if they were even trying to find her now. Perhaps she was already disowned!
Quickly, she pushed the phone aside, as if ignoring it could ease her anxiety, and pulled out the scrap of cardboard with the address of Alexander's office at the University. She needed to find a map, she determined, and she stood on the rooftop, turning slowly in a circle. To one side, she saw two bright lights, floating noisily, but smoothly among the buildings of the old neighborhood.
"An elevated train!" she realized excitedly. Where there was a commuter train line, there would be stations, and where there were stations, there would be a map! Sister leapt into the wind, which was very cold, but somehow refreshing after having spent a night in a stifling crate. She followed the train's headlamps through the neighborhood as it flickered through the narrow cracks between the buildings and cast long, low shadows on brick walls and decaying streets. As she drew closer, she heard the loud rumble and crashing sounds of the train as it squealed around a corner like a mad dog trying to break from a heavy chain. Archs flashed at its rails as it passed her and she could see the cars were packed full of unconcerned commuters, many of whom could be seen standing in the aisle through the car's yellow, rectangular windows.
It was winter hours. That's what the clan called this time of year, when the sun set early and awoke them while the humans' rush hour was just beginning. The clan enjoyed this extra time to spend together at the castle, before they could effectively begin their patrols without being constantly seen. While the humans raced home to their families on the streets below them, the gargoyles typically enjoyed a large meal together. Then they had a few hours to play games and chat together, read, enjoy hobbies, and seek the comforts of private time with their mates, before they went out to patrol the city. Sister sighed, wishing she was there among them again. She followed the train, rooftop to rooftop, until she spotted the closest platform, where a hoard of humans was engaged in the delicate art of disentangling from a crowded train car and wriggling onto a crowded platform without touching or annoying anybody. To Sister, the humans looked like ants gathered on a discarded potato chip. It was clear, she wasn't going to get close enough to that platform to look for a map any time soon.
Mildly frustrated, she found the roof of a nearby school to settle on as she tried to collect her barings. The towers in the distance, as well as the illuminated "CTA" on the front of the train informed her that she had indeed managed to ship herself to the correct city. That was encouraging! The glow on the horizon, to one side of her, indicated the west, which meant that she was somewhere southwest of the city's center. From her hurried Google research, before incapacitating the GPS tracker on her phone, she knew that the university where Alexander worked was to the north of the city, and close to the shoreline. Sister frowned as she tried to estimate the distance she was from the towers, but she quickly determined that she really couldn't gauge it reliably.
However far the actual distance, she was certain she had some serious gliding ahead of her tonight, and battling against a powerful headwind. It would not be easy. She was hungry and deprived of two days worth of rejuvenating sunlight, but she was confident that, with any luck, she could make it to Alexander's office before he arrived in the morning.
She smiled slightly, wondering what his reaction would be to finding her stone face peeking in the window when he opened the door. Or better yet, if she could find a way inside, she could be sitting in his office chair holding a fresh mug of coffee for him. She giggled at the image in her head. If she was clever, and managed to appeal to the halfling tricker's playful side with an epic prank, maybe she would find his 'responsible uncle' side more sympathetic to the horrible predicament she'd gotten herself into.
Sister rose and climbed onto the top of an air conditioning unit, spreading her wings again to leap into the air, when she heard a curious sound, like a distressed cry. She paused, her wide ears straining for the source of the sound. She heard it again, coming from the tree-covered boulevard that stood on the other side of the school's playground. It sounded to Sister, like the cry of a young child. Filled with significant misgivings, Sister glided over the playground toward the sound, landing stealthily within the heavy branches of a mature pin oak tree, overlooking the conjunction of two paths.
There stood two lanky, sneering youths, glaring with contempt at a young girl. One gripped the handle of the girl's backpack, holding her in place, while the other stood menacingly in front of her, poking a long finger in her face and daring her to defy him. The front of the girl's puffy winter coat was covered in gray dust, and streams of tears from her eyes were also tinged with dirt, as if she'd fallen, face first, in the gravel path while trying to flee these bullies.
"Whatcha got in there, brat?" one of the thugs demanded, pointing to her pink backpack with a cartoon kitten on the front, "I seen you sneakin around in the back of the convenience store. I know you took something! What's the matter? Your rich daddy don't give you no money?"
The girl glared at him, but refused to answer. Sister could tell she was frightened by the nearly grown boys, but she was standing her ground.
"I saw you runnin out the back door like your ass was on fire," the other agreed with a sneer, tugging on the bag, "What did you bring us?" The girl pulled away from them defiantly, shaking her head and turning so they couldn't easily help themselves to her backpack or pockets.
"Mine!' she told them in a low voice, triggering both of her assailants to snicker cruelly.
"Give it up, you little shit," the first one grumbled, grabbing hold of her again and shaking the backpack free from her, "You have to learn to share! Your cousin sure takes enough off my grandpa every month! Hey!"
"What?" the other asked eagerly, "What's she got?!"
Inexplicably to Sister, the young miscreant clearly hoped his associate had found an epic amount of cash, drugs, or better yet, a handgun in this kindergartener's backpack.
"There ain't nuthin in here!" he grumbled, dumping a comic book, some snacks, and a stuffed animal on the ground. With a growl, the other one turned on the girl.
"You didn't bring me nuthin?" he demanded, "You come out here onto my turf and you can't even pay the toll?"
At this cocky threat, his diminutive victim's face suddenly curled into a fierce snarl and she charged at him, punching at his stomach. The hoodlum stepped back and looked surprised for a moment, but then began to laugh as he shoved the girl down into the gravel path.
"Whatcha gonna do about it?" he demanded between cackles, "Crazy girl!"
His friend laughed too, tearing the backpack before discarding it.
Then, to Sister's amazement, the girl rose from the ground with a growl, picked up a broken chunk of brick from the border of the path, and hurled it at the thug, smacking him in the face with a thud. The stunned youth raised his hand to his face, feeling a trickle of blood.
"Girl, you're dead!" he bellowed in rage, "I don't care who your daddy is!"
The thug charged at her in a rage, but the little girl had the sense to stay where she was on the ground and kick frantically at his attempts to grab her. It wasn't a bad move, Sister acknowledged to herself, but it wouldn't preserve the girl for long with the other ruffian free to get at her from behind. Sister had a sickening feeling in her gut as the second thug reached for another heavy piece of brick and held it over his head to strike the girl.
Suddenly the boy with the brick cried out, and seemed to go flailing through the air, into a rack of trash cans beside the path. The other boy looked up in confusion at the awkward and noisy mess of PVC and hoodlum.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked in disbelief.
"Ugh!" he groaned, "Someone shoved me!"
"Shoved you?" he replied, his eyes following the several yards of empty path between where his friend had crashed and the little kid on the ground, who had finally stopped kicking and yelping and now looked just as surprised as he was. He didn't have long to ponder the unexplained phenomenon before he too found himself being lifted from the ground and tossed into the trash cans. The two befuddled delinquents scrambled to their feet and looked toward the path to find two red eyes glowing at them in the dark.
"What is that?! What the hell is that?!" one of them shrieked, his voice rising to a panic as a dark shape appeared around the eyes and approached them slowly.
Suddenly, the dark form pounced toward them, flashing claws and fangs, and with tremendous force, sent them both on a second flight into the trash cans. This time, they scrambled to their feet in a pure panic, screech some incoherent, terrorized profanity, and barrelled blindly down the dark path toward the creek, leaving the poor kid huddled alone on the ground, paralyzed by fear and confusion.
Sister chased the two thugs through the park, realizing that she was taking a huge risk by engaging them alone, but enjoying the exercise nonetheless. The boulevard had a small drainage ditch running through it that joined a larger creek several blocks away. During heavy rain, this waterway often rushed with torrents of the filthy water that drained into it from all over the neighborhood, but now it was completely empty. Two foot bridges carried the path over this creek, but the boys headed down the embankment itself, knowing that following the creekbed would lead them back to their own neighborhood, where they dealt with normal threats like gangbangers, muggers, and drunken stepfathers, not mysterious red eyes in the dark. They stumbled over sharp, uneven rocks until they reached the footbridge. It was an elaborately decorated job from the 1910s, wide enough that a post-Victorian family could have passed over it in a jaunting car, but not wide enough for any modern vehicle.
The fleeing hoodlums paused there in the cover of darkness to catch their breath, peeking anxiously out from under the bridge for signs of whatever terror might have been chasing them. Sister, having seen them disappearing under the bridge, perched on a tree nearby, interested to see what they would do.
"Man, what was that?" one of them asked.
"I swear it was some kind of monster," the other replied incredulously, "I heard it growling!"
"Look at my coat where it grabbed me!" the other replied, examining a jacket in the leather exterior of his jacket.
The two horrified youths caught their breath and began to make their way out from under the bridge, through the creek bed and toward the hole in the fence that led them to their own neighborhood, when suddenly, their feet fell on a hard, uneven surface and they felt themselves caught in what felt like a spring-loaded net, and flipped upside down. The thugs screamed in united terror and Sister watched in amazement as a small mob of children of various sizes descended from the embankments on either side of the stream, pelting the trap with rocks, angry shouts, and war cries. The two thugs were helpless as they hung in inverted humiliation from the arch of the bridge. The gang of kids centered around them, still shouting over each other as they examined the prey they had caught in their trap.
"Hey! It worked even without the bicycle chains!" a boy proudly exclaimed as he shone a flashlight on the mechanism. His round face grinned from beneath heavy glasses that reflected the light of the street lamps, and an oversized, striped stocking-cap with a silly puff ball on the top.
"Sort of!" agreed a tall girl with long braids and a skeptical tone. She leaped expertly down the embankment and stood beside the boy, who was clearly the primary engineer of this trap, crossing her arms and looking with disdain upon the two captives.
"Those old trampoline springs did the trick, Stanly. Too bad all it caught were these two clowns!"
"Vernita!" one of the thugs bellowed at the tall girl, "Get us out of this thing!"
"I will," she shot back, "Only because I need it for something more important than you idiots!"
"What are you doing on our turf anyway?" snarled one of the smaller boys.
"Yeah!" another agreed, tossing a creek stone threateningly in his hand, "This is OUR park!"
"Says who?"
"Says me!" replied Vernita, and Sister was impressed to see that the two thugs actually balked at her claim on the territory, despite being older and physically bigger than she was. Clearly, Vernita was the lady in charge of this gang. To Sister's even greater amazement, Vernita pulled an impressive blade from her coat pocket and opened it menacingly in front of her two captives.
"Whatcha gonna do with that, girl?" One of the thugs asked anxiously.
"Gonna get you two fools up out of our business!" she informed him as she used the knife to cut one of the lines and sent the whole trap crashing to the creek bottom. The other kids laughed and cheered as they struggled to remove themselves from the makeshift netting and the metal frame that supported it, which appeared to have been fashioned out of pieces of an old trampoline. Sister noticed that the little girl from the park had joined the gang of kids, and now stood confidently beside Vernita, glaring at their victims with a clear sense of triumph. The thugs staggered to their feet to face the crowd of smaller, but more numerous adversaries. The leader still brandished the knife which Sister suspected she knew well how to use in self-defense.
"Well?" Vernita demanded.
"Vernita, why you over here playing with these little white gangster brats?" one of the thugs taunted her, trying to reclaim some of his lost dignity, "You know they ain't never gonna let you be one of them!"
"Why you playing with me, boy?" she retorted in a low, dangerous voice, "Don't you know better?"
The thug gave her a disgusted look, before nodding to his friend, and they both disappeared down the creek bed, returning to their own territory, amid a torrent of shouts, taunts, and insults from the unruly gang of kids.