Massacre 2.3
Taylor crouched behind the low wall on the top level of the parking garage across the road from the main Medhall building.
This might be tougher than she originally thought.
The buildings in the nicer parts of downtown were more difficult for her to traverse. Less fire escapes and brick siding for easy scaling, and more variation between the buildings. Being able to jump one or two stories up didn't exactly help much with skyscrapers.
Additionally, the exterior of the Medhall building didn't give her much to go on. Flat sides of reflective glass, only tapering in at a level much higher than any of the surrounding buildings.
At least it didn't seem like the main building had any twenty-four-hour inpatient sections. The multi-lane drop-off area in front was empty.
Even with Victor's knowledge of breaking and entering, she couldn't really know what she would find until she got inside.
Which begged the question…
Should she go in slow and silent, or quick and loud?
Slow and silent was obviously preferable, but it might be impossible. She didn't have any means of dodging security cameras outside of skilled observation, and she doubted that a professional setup like Medhall would have very many blind spots. They would have security guards watching for suspicious activity, so she probably wouldn't remain undetected for long.
Her costume was pretty much the definition of suspicious.
Victor's knowledge hinted at methods of disguising herself, basic security uniforms or maintenance outfits.
Probably not worth it. She may be tall for her age, but anyone who looked too closely would see a teenager pretending. Plus, she didn't want to show her face.
Loud and proud it is, then.
Or, at least, as fast as possible without significant regard for stealth.
Taylor still didn't like the idea of going in blind, but she didn't exactly have a better option. They didn't do guided tours of the floors she wanted to pilfer.
Giving up on getting any additional information from watching the exterior, Taylor carefully worked her way around to the back of the tall building and dropped down into the alley between it and the bank office next door.
She already saw three different security cameras trained on the alley and maintenance entrances. It would have to be a quick visit.
The double doors at the maintenance entrance were sturdy and, predictably, locked. In one smooth movement, Taylor drew her pistol and fired.
The consecrated blood bullet put a fist sized hole where the lock used to be.
She fully expected an alarm to go off, but there was no obvious response to the ringing gunshot. Weird, but she wasn't complaining.
Taylor took off down the hall at a dead sprint. Various pipes and valves were exposed along the ceiling.
She needed to locate the research labs as quickly as possible.
I wonder if they have a map around here anywhere?
She found a staircase and took the steps three at a time, rocketing up several floors before exiting to get her bearings.
At least she was in a more professional part of the building now. Instead of exposing pipeworks, the walls were lined with generic office decorations.
Still not what she wanted.
Several turns later, she got her first stroke of luck.
A bank of elevators sat dark and silent, but beside them was a directory of different floors and departments.
Unfortunately, the labs and research areas were in the basement. Back the way she came.
Irritating.
Additionally, she could hear raised voices filtering through the network of hallways and offices.
Part of her considered just taking the elevator.
But no, that would be a stupid idea. They could just trigger the emergency stop and she'd be in even more trouble.
Back to the stairs it was, then.
Taylor raced back down the hallway.
Just as it looked like she might make it to the stairway unimpeded, two security guards ran into the corridor from the left.
Shit.
She really didn't want to kill any innocent security guards. They were just doing their jobs, and she was unarguably the criminal here.
But she had some of Victor's hand to hand skills now, and she was still much faster than a normal human. She could get past these two without ripping out their spines.
Probably.
She was only ten feet away when they saw her, but they were both quick to raise their pistols.
Not even tasers. Medhall didn't skimp on the security, apparently. Was that even legal?
Taylor twisted sideways and caught the shooting arm of the guard on the right, forcing his aim wide and slamming his gun into the other guard's face. She winced at the crunch of his nose breaking under the metal.
She ducked under the arm she was holding and kicked backwards at the guard's knee, wincing again at the sickening snap.
"Sorry, sorry," she said automatically, relieving them both of their firearms before heading into the stairwell.
This was already messier than she had hoped for.
Taylor bounded down the stairs a full flight at a time, quickly passing the maintenance floor where she started and making her way to the basements.
I probably should have brought a duffel bag or something.
Hindsight was twenty-twenty.
She raced through the maze of generic beige corridors until a sign caught her eye.
"Advanced radiology and toxicology: Area 3."
Good enough for her.
The door was locked.
The gunshot sounded even louder than usual, in the confined space.
Do blood vials repair hearing damage?
Her power's answer was inconclusive.
Taylor threw open the door and stumbled to a stop.
It was like the most enticing buffet she had ever laid eyes on.
There was just so… much… equipment!
And she didn't even have a good way to carry it all. Damn.
Luckily, there were some plastic tubs under one of the lab tables. That was better than nothing.
She really didn't have any more time, so she grabbed a centrifuge and a few other pieces of specialized equipment that made her power buzz pleasantly. They were pretty heavy, but it wasn't an issue with the power and adrenaline singing in her veins.
No more time.
Taylor returned to her mad dash through the corridors, now awkwardly carrying a plastic tub full of laboratory equipment.
She definitely should have planned this better. This was ridiculous.
Victor's instincts told her that the way she came in would already be blocked by security, so she headed towards what she hoped was the front of the building.
She found another bank of elevators and a set of stairs nearby. Perfect.
The main lobby was probably a bad idea. She went up one extra level before exiting the staircase and sprinting down the hallway.
Unfortunately, the level one hallway still overlooked the open atrium with only a glass divider between her and a sizable group of guards and police in the entrance hall below.
Gunshots and shattered glass exploded around her as the guards in the lobby open fired without hesitation. Again, they seemed awfully quick to resort to lethal aggression, but Taylor had more important things to focus on. It was difficult to dodge bullets while holding a crate of delicate lab equipment.
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
A bullet nicked the back of her calf, carving out a painful furrow in the muscle. At least it wasn't deep enough to significantly slow her down. Nothing a blood vial wouldn't fix, once she wasn't actively being shot at.
She was never doing anything like this again. Clearly, her power was designed for hunting. This cops and robbers bullshit was obviously cursed.
Four more security guards rounded the corner in front of her.
Shit.
Did Medhall have a private army or something? What kind of ridiculous Die Hard crap was this?
Acting on instinct and Victor's muscle memory, Taylor slid the plastic tub along the floor and leapt. She ran sideways up the right-hand wall at maximum speed until she was briefly horizontal, perpendicular to the hallway.
Bullets tore through the space under her, putting even more holes in her coat as it flared behind her.
She kicked off the wall and brought her knee down on the collarbone of the closest guard. He and his collarbone both collapsed under her weight and momentum.
On the way down, Taylor grabbed the wrist of the guard next to her and twisted the gun out of his hand.
As it fell, she snatched the rogue firearm out of the air and flung it at the guard farthest down the hall, still trying to get a clean shot at her.
The heavy metal hit him in the face with a dull thud and he toppled.
She and the man under her landed hard and she rolled quickly to avoid a shot from the last armed guard. Using her remaining momentum, she twisted on the ground and kicked at his knee, wincing as this one, too, snapped like a twig.
"Sorry," she said again, for all the good it did.
Taylor pushed herself back up to her feet and snagged the tub as it slid past, continuing her frantic search for an exit.
She could see the red and blue lights flashing from the main entrance. Not there, then.
I'll just have to make my own exit.
Taylor turned hard at the next hallway juncture, wincing as the motion tugged at her wounded leg.
Just a simple B & E to get tinkering supplies. No big deal. Sure.
She shifted the tub under her arm and shot the window at the end of the hallway. The wide glass pane shattered and fell to the street below.
I can probably jump that far.
Hopefully.
Taylor braced her good leg on the metal sill and leapt across the street to the first floor of the parking garage on the other side.
Her breath came a bit easier as she sprinted away in the fresh night air, stolen equipment in tow.
Easy-peasy.
She really needed to sleep.
…
Amy really needed to sleep.
Instead she locked the door to her bedroom behind her and tossed her Panacea robe onto the floor with the rest of the accumulated laundry. She would do it… at some point. Maybe.
She flopped down in her desk chair and spun idly in a circle for a moment.
Hunter was just so… goddamn… frustrating.
For someone so wrong, she sure seemed pretty damn pleased with herself. And yet, she was also more than willing to die for her broken convictions.
Amy didn't know what to think about her. The way those black eyes stared into her soul even though Amy's power held her firmly in place. The way her words rang with truth and sincerity, while Amy could feel every beat of her pulse and the chemical reactions in her brain.
"Do it, then. Take what you want, and make no apologies."
As if Amy could ever do that.
She didn't even know what she wanted.
That thought made her sit up straighter.
Last week, she would have known exactly what she would take, but could never, ever have. Was it better or worse, that she wasn't sure anymore? What did that even mean?
Amy pulled out the blood vial and stared at it for a long time.
A present.
She carefully unscrewed the top.
If I'm going to hell, I might as well enjoy the ride.
Amy took a deep breath and dipped her finger in the congealed, concentrated blood.
Her eyes widened involuntarily and she gripped the arm of the chair with scrabbling fingers.
It was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her power didn't know what to make of it. She could barely comprehend it, let alone change it, even if she wanted to.
No living thing had blood like this. She wasn't even sure that it was still blood at all.
The closest equivalent would be some kind of alien stem cell, if stem cells were forced to do a shit ton of coke and then got hooked up to a car battery. Even that didn't do the crimson ichor justice.
Hunter made this?
Hunter had been putting this into her body?
Amy lost track of time as she stared into the ever changing lattice that was the perfect humor, both fiery ambrosia and soothing tonic to her biosenses.
When she finally pulled her hand away, she had the strangest urge to lick her finger clean.
She didn't, though, because that was a terrible idea.
After re-stoppering the vial and washing her hands, Amy sat back down at her desk and stared at the deceptively unobtrusive glass.
She needed to talk to Hunter again. Even if she shouldn't. Even if the girl in the stupid hat was a violent murderer.
Tomorrow night couldn't come soon enough, and she didn't even really know why.
But everything seemed just a little bit less gray, and that was… good.
She really needed to sleep.
For once, sleep came quickly and easily. Amy dreamed of soft, silver light, afloat in a glass-calm crimson sea.
…
Instead of heading straight home, Taylor made her way back to the abandoned hospital in the Trainyards.
The electricity had long since been shut off, but that was alright. Nothing she couldn't work around.
She carefully picked her way over the shattered glass and debris covering the floor of the empty lobby.
Ironically, the atmosphere seemed to be preventing any homeless people from camping here, despite the relatively secure environment. Something about the eerie, empty exam rooms and surgical suites.
Taylor liked it, though.
It seemed well and truly abandoned. If there was anyone here, they were doing a damn good job of hiding.
Taylor spent a solid thirty minutes working her way through the myriad of different rooms and offices before she found what she was looking for.
The ruined research lab was a large room, longer than it was wide. Anything even vaguely valuable had been either broken or taken, including the copper wiring in the walls. Still, the bones of a professional grade HVAC system were still present, and several of the lab tables were intact.
Once she got everything up and running, she could set up a forge here and pump the smoke outside. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too obvious. Plus, there was more than enough space for her other gear and equipment.
She didn't have the energy to do any cleanup right now, though. The long night last night and the events of this evening were finally catching up with her. Getting shot multiple times wasn't a walk in the park, apparently.
Recipes for a blood-based stimulant danced in front of her eyes, but it would have to wait.
The Medhall incident had been an absolute fiasco. Running in blind, getting lost, trying to dodge bullets while carrying a plastic tub of temperamental laboratory equipment. Non-lethal takedowns. All of it was a huge fucking mess that she was never, ever doing again.
She should just stick to killing beasts.
It also dawned on her that she left her blood at the scene, so the PRT would be able to put two and two together and figure out that the woman in the fedora on the Medhall security tapes was also the one who killed all those Empire thugs.
God. Dammit.
She needed to go home, shower, and sleep until her meeting with Panacea tomorrow night. That sounded like an excellent plan.
She'd have to apologize to the healer, tomorrow. The Medhall thing was definitely villainous behavior, no matter how much she wanted that equipment.
Taylor left her ill-gotten gains in her new lair and began the long walk back to the Docks.
…
She knew that something was amiss as soon as she snuck in the back door.
Just a vague feeling. Like everything had been shifted ever so slightly while she was gone.
Taylor stopped in the living room and glanced around, trying to figure out what the source of her malcontent was.
Maybe she was just tired. And paranoid.
It's not paranoia if they're actually out to get you.
The basement door was open. She definitely closed it before she left, and her father wouldn't go down there on his own. And he would know better than to leave it open, what with the human organs on display.
Someone was in my lab.
Or still is.
Taylor drew her pistol and cleaver, creeping down the wooden stairs as lightly as she could.
It was still dark, in the basement.
She made it to the base of the stairs and peered into the pitch black ink.
Her senses twitched.
Taylor spun on her heel and leveled her gun at the figure in the dark at the same moment they raised their crossbow.
A slim form in black combat armor and a white hockey mask stared at her. The costume may be different, but the weapon gave her away.
Shadow Stalker.
How did she find me?
"You're supposed to be dead, Hebert."
What the fuck.
That voice…
"Hess. What the fuck are you doing in my house?" Taylor said, her voice colder than she had ever heard from her own lips before.
Sophia Hess was Shadow Stalker.
The pieces clicked into place.
It explained so much.
Why the school officials never took her complaints seriously. Why the trio always got away with their crimes. Why Emma latched onto her. How Sophia was so much stronger than the other children at the school, so much rougher around the edges.
She was a parahuman, the whole time. A Ward. A superhero.
What a fucking joke.
Taylor's blood should have been boiling, but she felt strangely cold. Detached.
This was different from the Nazis. That had been a hunt, a means to an end.
This time, it was personal.
Sophia Hess would not be leaving this house alive.
"Emma told me a funny story," Sophia said mockingly. "And I just had to come check for myself. Good thing I did, huh, Hunter?"
Taylor didn't bother to answer. She took one careful step to the left, circling her target. Sophia matched her exactly. Their weapons never strayed from the other's face.
"How'd a monster like you end up in the Wards?" Taylor asked. It didn't really matter, but she was curious.
She took another step.
So did her enemy.
"Fuck off." Sophia spat. "You think you're tough shit just because you snuffed out a couple Nazis?"
Taylor smiled.
"Twelve Nazis," Taylor corrected. "And one Ward."
"You don't have the-"
"They don't know you're here, do they?" Taylor cut her off, her voice hissing in the darkness. "I can't imagine that you'd tell them what you did to me. Are you all… alone… Sophia?"
"Fuck you-"
"I remember what it was like, to be alone," Taylor continued. "Trapped in that metal box, with the blood. Do you remember, Sophia? You're the one who put me in there, after all."
She saw Sophia shiver before straightening her spine.
"I put you in the ground once, Hebert," she growled. "I think I'm going to enjoy doing it again."
No shallow grave will hold me. Not while I can dream.
"I'm sure you'll try," Taylor grinned. It was not a happy expression. "Come with me, then, into the dark."
They both pulled the trigger, and the night was no longer quiet.