Chapter One
"The whole mad swirl of everything that was to come began then." - Jack Keuroc
Junior Gibson's favorite day of the week was Tuesday. For starters, Tuesday meant Avanti's all-day chicken parm and pasta party. That, coupled with the fact that trash pick-up wasn't until the next day, meant that Junior had an endless smorgasboard of food to dine on. He waited somewhat impatiently for ol' Marco to waddle out at close, tossing almost-bursting trash bags of discarded pans into the rusted green dumpster out in the alley. His alley. Besides the food, animal control did a sweep of the alleyways on Tuesday morning, so it was also the one night that Junior didn't have to fight the feral cats for his dinner. The fine, thick scraps of poultry covered in red savory sauce were all his for the taking.
As the stars sparkled overhead, Junior whispered a quick note of gratitude that Tuesday was upon him again. A light breeze blew as Junior settled down on an overturned milk crate, whistling as he tucked a napkin into the collar of his stained gray t-shirt. He balanced a broken plate heaped with lukewarm deliciousness on his knees and pulled out his trusty silver spork. The utensil, a cross between a spoon and a fork, had been a rare find in another nearby alley, that one butting up to the back of a consignment shop. The initials HK were etched into the rusted silver, but Junior didn't care who it had belonged to as long as it delivered food to his mouth.
"Bon appetit," he said aloud, his mouth watering at the thought of what awaited him. He scooped up the first delectable bite and let it melt in his mouth, savoring the moment.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Most people think life on the streets is dangerous, but Junior had been either very lucky, very smart or a combination of both. Criminals typically left him alone. A few of the local police, those who remembered him before his life went to shit, even slipped him a fiver from time to time. The most exciting thing that happened in his alleyway was the occasional drunk couple that stumbled in for a quickie.
The scream was so unexpected that it caused Junior to jerk, the plate of food he had so lovingly crafted falling to the grimy concrete. The sound had come from above. Heart pounding, he looked up just as something that looked like a large, white, furry snowball crashed into the dumpster. A second later a human form, flailing limbs clad in dark blue and orange, joined it. Yelling erupted immediately.
"YOU STUPID RABBIT!" "THIS WASN'T MY FAULT!" "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME WHEN!"
"YOU DIDN'T WAIT! Hold on - Mmm, is this chicken parm?"
"Are you seriously talking about food right now? Wait...I think it is chicken parm. Damn, that sauce is good."
"Paws off, Max. It must be chicken parm and pasta party day at Avanti's. I'd know that taste anywhere. Well, there's worse places we could have ended up...like where we were supposed to be."
Junior watched, shell-shocked, as a handsome young man poked his head out from the trashbags that had been covering him. Spaghetti noodles hung off of a swoosh of styled brown hair. His dark blue jumpsuit clung to him like a second skin, highlighting a solid, athletic build. The man grunted slightly as he yanked his left arm out, a white rabbit with a huge hunk of chicken clutched between his teeth swinging in his hand.
"So-mmph-good."
"Max! Colosso!"
A beautiful young woman ran into the alley. Like the guy, she was decked out head-to-toe in a tight dark blue suit with orange striping, the belt around her waist ending in a buckle shaped like a T. The initial reflected off the dim alley lights and cast a glow around her. Her dark hair was pulled back into a perfect ponytail, swinging back and forth as she breathed heavily. She placed her hands on her hips, her eyes focusing and narrowing on the dumpster.
"There you are. What did we just talk about?"
The bunny spit out the chicken. "Keeping your pointy elbows off the dashboard?" Junior blinked rapidly. He could have swore that he had seen the bunny's mouth move. After all, there was only one human standing in the dumpster, but he had just overheard a whole conversation with two very distinct voices.
"D-Did that bunny just talk?"
It was the absolute ridiculousness that a rabbit could talk that made him speak up. He knew the second he uttered the words that he had made a mistake. He tried to scoot back on the crate in an attempt to blend in with the shadows, but he knew it was a worthless effort.
: Phoebe :
"D-Did that bunny just talk?" It was bad enough that our mission had been derailed thanks to a lover's quarrel between my brother and his rabbit, but continuing the quarrel within view of a poor, sweet homeless guy huddled on an old, cracked milkcrate took it to a totally different level of stupidity. I glared at Max, wishing not for the first time that I could project lasers out of my eyes like our younger sister, Nora. Max gave me his typical 'deer stuck in headlights' look while Dr. Colosso, his evil-villain-turned-bunny best friend, continued to gnaw on a piece of chicken, grabbing it each time it threatened to fall back into the dumpster.
The homeless guy looked like he was seconds away from his brain impoding at the implication of a talking rabbit. His dinner lay sadly on the ground at his feet. I took a deep breath, my mind scrambling for a way to fix this. If I could pull it off, there was still a slight chance that we'd be able to complete our mission. Max shrugged helplessly and made a blowing gesture. I shook my head, ignoring his proposed solution. Max shrugged again and pulled a noodle from his shoulder, taking a bite. I ground my teeth. The dumpster buddies were like one reckless, constantly hungry two-brained dummy.
Wait...
"What? No," I laughed, waving my hand in an attempt to be nonchalant. "A rabbit? Talk? No, the guy in the dumpster is a ventriloquist. A...a skydiving ventriloquist. I'm his manager." I sighed, not even having to act like my sigh was filled with regret. In a way I was a little bit like Max's manager. I'd managed to not kill him in the last five years that we'd been partners and co-captains.
There was an uncomfortable silence. The guy swallowed hard and looked over at Max. Max nodded and lowered Colosso back towards the dumpster food, pulling him up a second before he could grab a noodle.
"Hey!" Colosso protested.
"He's really good," the guy finally said. I smiled, the tenseness in my shoulders easing slightly. I didn't want to wipe the poor man's memory. He didn't seem malicious and the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for removing whatever street smarts he had gained to survive out in sketchy alleyways.
"He's so good it's scary. You know," I smirked, my eyes flicking to Max for a moment before returning to the guy still eyeing Colosso, thankfully now with more curiosity than fear. "It's rather hard to tell which one is the dummy sometimes."
Even though the alley was dim, the stars illuminating above our heads clearly highlighted the dirty look Max shot my way. With a few grunts, Max hoisted himself out of the metal container, readjusting his hold on Colosso so the blood didn't completely rush to the furry fiend's head.
"Well, we need to get going," Max said. He shook his head, noodles flying everywhere, and puffed out his chest. He gave the guy a way-too-macho nod considering how he looked. "Apologies for the interruption. Enjoy the parm. There's still quite a bit..." Max nodded towards the dumpster.
The guy, seeming to understand that his life wasn't in danger, gave him a relieved smile. "Always do."
Max marched past me, his head held high and I barely stifled a giggle. A dark red streak of globulated spaghetti sauce shot up from his butt and splashed up his back. Absorbing into the dark blue fabric, anyone who didn't know what just happened would think he had suffered an explosive case of diarrhea. I turned to follow him. "Be careful out there."
The gentle tone of the homeless man tugged at my heartstrings. I turned back around and reached into the small space directly behind my buckle. I pulled out a twenty and knelt down next to him, holding it out. He paused, but I shook it. "Please." Slowly, he plucked it from between my fingers, a look of gratitude spreading across his face. I swallowed a lump in my throat. I repeated his own words to him. "Be careful out here."
He nodded and I knew if I didn't move that the desire to stop and help him more would consume me. With my heart and brain battling with my feet, I stood up and took off, my boots hitting hard on the pavement. I broke back out onto the street and turned left. Max was the lone figure on the sidewalk, his stride long. I pushed harder into my run, the pinch in my side telling me that I really needed to work more on my core. With my increased effort, it didn't take long to catch up to them. Colosso was purposely making it hard for Max to keep his furry butt tucked in close and as inconspicuous as possible. "I can't believe he bought that," Max told me as I slowed to a jog and then to our brisk walk, our steps falling into sync. "Colosso, I swear-"
"You bring a change of clothes?" I asked, interrupting his threat. "Why?" I bit my lip. "Oh, no reason."
"I'm guessing spaghetti poo," Colosso said smugly. Max groaned. "Spaghetti poo?"
I couldn't help but laugh, stopping for just a second to let Max get ahead of me so I could catch a second look. "Something like that."
We turned the corner and headed towards our destination: a dark, towering parking garage. Even the attendants had gone home for the night. The smell of urine and liquor was strong, the concrete stained heavily in places where the substances were at their worst. The garage itself was almost empty, the few cars inside scattered throughout the eight story building. Max reached into the strap attached to his leg and pulled out a small, rectangular fob. I yanked it from his hand.
"Hey!"
"Your reflexes suck tonight, Thunderman," I taunted. I flew up the rusted staircase, the bare incadescent light bulbs dangling under each landing barely illuminating the one below.
The metal door at the top of the garage swung open noisily as I made my way out onto the top of the building. Max and Colosso appeared a minute later. It was a deserted wasteland, the cement floor pocked with potholes caused by lack of upkeep and the recent temperature swings. Fortunately, this night had brought us perfect weather for what we needed to do. I pressed the button on the fob and within seconds, a plane shimmered into existence. "Can we not dive out of the Thunderplane until we're there this time?" I asked exasperatedly.
"Who is this we you speak of?" Colosso asked in a sing-song sort of way. "I'm going to murder him, Max," I warned as I climbed into the plane. With yet another shriek, Colosso flew over my head and I froze, torn between watching him crash into the window and saving him. At the last moment, Max suspended him with his telekenesis, setting him down gentler than I ever would have.
"He's going to be a huge help," Max assured me for the fifth time that night. The last time I had heard those words was about thirty seconds before Colosso had pressed the button that ejected the boys into the night sky. I had been oh-so-tempted to just keep flying.
"I'm flying this time," Max announced as he climbed in.
"You're not sitting anywhere in that suit," I countered. "That bad?" "You look like you shit yourself," Colosso offered helpfully.
"Fuck." I camped out in the pilot's seat, reviewing the dashboard and checking gauges. Max awkwardly pulled his body over the seats and into the back. The plane wasn't large by any account, designed that way purposely to maintain a low profile. "Where's the portable shower stuff?" I glanced in the mirror. Max was rooting around our gear cases, the muscles in his bare back straining from impatience, his Thundersuit bunched up at his waist. I turned back to the console with renewed interest in the dials and switches. "I think you used the last one when you brought Colosso the last time. If I remember correctly, that's when you missed your turn and got trapped in that llama pen. Just grab your spare suit."
I tapped my fingers on the instrument panels. After two crashes, three more curses and a thud, Max's face appeared next to mine, his breath smelling like marinara.
"Let me fly."
I wrapped my hand around the control stick. "I barely got the plane under control when you went zoomy-zoomy into the night. I'm flying."
His hand reached out to mine. I gritted my teeth. "Don't," I snapped, my heart racing. His hand froze as if he hadn't realized what he was doing. A frustrated noise rose from his throat.
"I'm the better pilot," Max argued. "I promise there's not going to be any more mistakes tonight. Let go." "I just want to get this done," I argued back. "I know I'll do it right." Despite my warning, Max's hand suddenly dove for mine. I wasn't prepared, but as his fingers began pulling at mine, I tightened my grip, beads of sweat popping out on my forehead. "Pheebs," he growled as I stubbornly continued to hold on and he stubbornly continued to wrestly my grasp away. As our fingers got caught between each other's, sparks of electricity flew from our skin.
We both yanked our hands back. My back slammed hard against the chair and I blinked away the little floating dots that had appeared in my vision. Damn him. "Fine. You can fly," I said on a slow exhale, scooting over and scooping up Colosso. I turned my head to the side window and did a silent countdown that slowed my pulse.
Max hovered awkwardly for a few more seconds before climbing into the pilot's seat and we both buckled in. I figured he would make a comment regarding his win, but as he flipped switches and the panels lit up, I noticed his face was as flushed as mine felt. So as not to be caught staring, I glanced down at the bunny in my lap. Colosso let out a snore. "You're not fooling anyone," I warned. "I'm going to lower you down, asleep or not." One eye opened. "You wouldn't. I told you, I didn't want to come along."
"Then you shouldn't have chewed through my new sweater," I reminded him. Not three days after buying an adorable gray cashmere sweater, I had pulled it out of my closet only to find a giant hole chewed through the side. The new cage bed of soft gray cashmere had given Colosso away; instead of apologizing, he had just asked for another go to get enough to stuff his pillow. If Max hadn't come in at that exact moment and froze both me and Colosso, I would currently be wearing a rabbit fur sweater.
The plane roared to life and I closed my eyes. When I wasn't in control, I hated the anticipation of lifting off. My body bounced in the seat and I mentally tracked each step of take off. Even with my eyes closed, I knew how Max looked as he went through his own internal checklist. His lips would pucker, his eyes would light up and he'd flex his fingers in anticipation. He'd then launch into the set-up, his hands moving rhythymically across the panel from years of experience. For as careless as he was in so many ways, he was cautious when it came to the Thunderplane and Thundercopter.
Once I heard the wheels tuck up and my ears popped, I knew we were airborne. Opening my eyes, I watched the dials on the dash until I knew we had reached the right altitude. I looked out through the night and unbuckled, leaving Colosso to co-pilot in the worn, brown leather seat. After a quick climb up and over into the back, I began to pull at a myriad of ropes and pulleys. As more proof that the plane was in the hands of a very capable pilot, I was easily able to keep my balance steady. Kicking Max's disgusting suit out of the way, I grabbed a small rabbit-sized harness and looped a thick rope through the back.
It was time.
"Come here, Colosso." The bunny shook his head. "Uh-uh."
"Max." "I'll make you go live with Blobbin," Max warned, his eyes not leaving the windshield in front of him. "Do what she says." "I thought you loved me, Maxxy." "I'd love this night to be over even more. Go." Like a death row prisoner, Colosso hopped back to me. The moment he looked like he was going to make a run for it, I grabbed his chubby middle and slid him into the harness, tightening the straps so they dug slightly into his fat rolls. He squeezed his eyes shut and my heart softened slightly as I reached for the hatch. "I promise, you'll be back up in a second. We just need to know if we're dealing with what we think we're dealing with."
Colosso looked me in the eyes. For a split second, I thought he was going to say something sentimental. "If I die, know that I have no regrets. That sweater was delicious." He cackled. I gritted my teeth, regretting my moment of weakness. "That's it." "No Pheebs, we're not quite-"
I didn't listen to Max's warning. I yanked open the hatch, a rush of wind instantly filling the plane. The plane tilted slightly and I struggled to maintain my crouched position, my thighs tightening as I felt my equilibrium shift. Colosso slid dangerously close to the opening, his nails trying to dig in to the metal floor. "Hurry up, Max!" I shouted. "Now who's the impatient one?!" he shouted back. "Almost...almost...okay, do it now. The skylight's directly below." "No, no, no-" I yanked Colosso up and held him so we were eye-to-eye. Lifting my free hand, I waved good-bye slowly and without warning, let him drop. His furry arms and legs flailed; his screams drifted away from the plane, caught on the air.
"That was my new favorite sweater!" I shouted down into the night.