ã€ŠStone Burnersã€‹


 Hunting Season: Start

    Hunting Season

    Chapter 1: Start

    <hr>

    She jerked awake in the middle of a thunderstorm. Noise assaulted her ears. Lots of noise. Cars, talking, music, screaming, machines, sirens, the storm, all forced their way into her ears in a nonsensical jumble. Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes.

    Her eyes strained, the blitz of the sensory overload overwhelming. They struggled to focus with the shock of bright lights and vivid detail, taking in every chip and abrasion on the concrete she lay on. She recoiled and rolled her head to the side, only to be blinded by a streetlight. As she tried to draw breath, she gagged at the stench of rot from the dumpster, burning her nose through the gas fumes and rain. Two things dug into her back, just below the shoulder blades.

    The cold rain spurred her to roll over and stagger upright, though she felt two weights pull on her back. Immediately, she lost her balance and almost toppled forward.

    Toes. Why am I on my toes? she thought.

    She clung to a wall for support, unsteady legs wobbling beneath her. A crack of thunder made her knees buckle and her eyes screw shut. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. She pressed her hands to her ears, desperate to stop the ringing in her ears. For a moment it felt like her ears were pressed against the concrete again.

    Rain. Cold. Where am I?

    She forced her eyes open and shied away from the street light, blinking a couple times to get the rainwater out. An orange glow caught her eye to the side, between the line of dark thunderclouds and a wall of blue shadowed mountains. Sun. A metal door a few feet from her across the alleyway caught her attention. She pushed off the wall and stumbled towards it, her feet scraping along the cracked and crumbling concrete.

    Something pulled on the back of her foot as she neared the doorway, tripping her. Her shoulder hit it, and something metal shrieked in protest as the heavy, imposing door snapped back. She collapsed on the ground again, laying face down halfway through the doorway. Something fell over her, partially covering her head. With a small groan, she reached out to get up once again. Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted something.

    Hands. Green. Big. Big green hands.

    The long fingers of the scaled hands before her ended in sharp, curved claws. What? She twitched what she thought was her index finger. The same finger in front of her twitched. What? Mine? No, that¡¯s not right. That can¡¯t be right. Her eyes followed a hand to her wrist, where the thick scales ended and transitioned to normal human skin. Wrist to arm, arm to the rest of her. She forced herself back onto her feet, still unsteady, and held her hands in front of her. Still green. Still clawed. No, no, no.

    She looked down and found her feet in a very similar condition, the scales ending just above her ankles. For a moment, she only saw four toes, though a fifth clawed toe took the place of her heel, keeping her from standing flat footed. Her heart pounded. Something of hers twitched, sliding along the tiled floor. Wait, what? She whirled around, catching sight of an enormous leathery wing behind her before she fixated on her tail.

    The heavy tail, covered in the same olive green scales as those on her hands, dragged on the floor. She curled it experimentally. That¡¯s a tail. My tail. It started from the small of her back, a seemingly natural extension of her spine, and eventually tapered off to a point about five feet later. She twisted her head around to get a good view of the wings that had covered her face when she¡¯d fallen. They emerged from each shoulder blade up to a couple inches above her head, then folded back down and ended at about her knees. Fully folded, they didn¡¯t fit neatly against her back, instead poking out a couple inches to either side of her.

    This can¡¯t be real. Lightning flashed. A split second later a crack of thunder rumbled the building. She screamed as the shock made her lose control of her legs for a moment, sending her sprawling. Make it stop. Once she recovered, she grabbed the dented metal door and forced it shut, deadening the sounds from outside to tolerable levels.

    She scrunched her eyes shut. The wings dug into her back as she leaned her back against the wall. This can¡¯t be real. Wake up. Come on, wake up. Why am I naked? Is there anyone here? Oh god, oh god, what am I?

    She couldn¡¯t remember. She couldn¡¯t remember any friends, boyfriends, or even girlfriends. Not even acquaintances. Not even family members. Not even the day or month or year. No parents, no names, no faces, no locations. Nothing. The harder she tried to remember, the harder she remembered absolutely nothing. She couldn¡¯t remember her own name. She had no idea who or where or what she was. She reopened her eyes and looked around, in the vain hope of anything providing her with an answer.

    She didn¡¯t smell anything besides musty air in the building she had lurched into. No sounds of movement beyond the rain, no people she could see. Tarps covered the front windows. Stripes of light came in through the boarded up windows beyond. The smooth ceramic tiling of the floor might have been considered pretty at one point, but was now cracked and scuffed. To her right was another door, made of wood and glass instead of metal. Other than a toppled office chair in a corner, the building was completely devoid of anything or anyone besides her, her lack of memories, and dust. She slid to the floor and broke down fully.

    ***

    She woke with a start to the sound of her stomach grumbling. Her eyes took in her ruined and abandoned surroundings before she had a chance to think. Where am I? Oh, right. She sat upright and wrapped her arms around her knees, wings splayed to either side. Sunlight beamed in through the windows as she tried to cut through her mental fog and piece together what had happened. Rain. I was trying to get out of the rain. Right. I came in here. I must have fallen asleep. That¡¯s it. She glanced at her scaled hands and took a deep breath. I¡¯m some weird monster thing. I remember that.

    Sleep had neither returned her memory, nor revealed that she was in some sort of horrible, twisted dream. She could still hear nearly everything going on around her, all swirling together in a cacophony of noises. Ignore it. Just ignore it. I¡¯m breathing. I can hear that. I know what that is. Focus on that.

    Her tail thrashed nervously behind her. Oh, right. I have a tail, but no name. Maybe this isn¡¯t real. Maybe. I hope. She took in another shaky breath and forced herself to stand. Her wings she folded behind her, using the wall for support as she balanced on her clawed feet. Her heel claws still threw her off balance. Maybe I should just stand on my toes? The more weight she put on the balls of her feet, the more balanced she felt. She removed her hand from the wall and took a tentative step forward. Her tail behind her straightened without her thinking about it, keeping her balanced. OK. That¡¯s better. I can do this. Now what?

    She took a few more hesitant steps. Her tail swished and dragged along on the ground, kicking up dust along the way. Everything just smells like dust. She sneezed. I should look around. Dust can¡¯t be everywhere. Should I look around? What if there are other people? I haven¡¯t seen anyone else so far. I guess I can look around, there¡¯s nothing here. Maybe there¡¯s food somewhere.

    She half walked, half stumbled to a nearby door. Within was a staircase, with a few tiny windows along one wall letting light in. Darn it. More dust. She stepped forward and promptly smacked her head on the top of the door frame. Darn it. She eyed the door, then ducked her head down and stepped forward again. Her wings caught on the door frame. The sudden pull on her back caught her off balance. With her weight pushed onto the claws on her heels, she staggered back and fell down.

    I just want to go through a door. Please? Crouching down and twisting her wings finally did the trick. Her claws dug into the steps as she climbed, keeping her balanced. One story up, she opened another door to a long hallway, lined with numbered doors. She poked her head into the nearest one, finding it unlocked. OK. Is that weird? Is there anyone here?

    Just like the lobby downstairs, more dust kicked up by the opening door greeted her. And just like the lobby, the apartment seemed gutted. Debris had accumulated in small piles in the corners of the bare concrete. The next few apartments held the same: nothing. She moved on, going up story by story, until the first apartment on the fourth floor. There she found something that might have been livable before. The carpets, though threadbare and dusty, were still there. Light, which had grown weaker as time passed, still filtered in through the yellowed plastic coverings on the windows.

    An old couch in surprisingly reasonable condition took up the center of the living room against a wall. The ache in her neck and back made her wish she had slept on that couch instead of the floor. She caught sight of the room¡¯s light switch. Doesn¡¯t hurt to check. She flicked it, though the lights remained dead.

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    I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anyone here. It doesn¡¯t really smell like it. Maybe there¡¯s food! She searched the kitchen to the right of the entrance, but came up empty handed. No food in the cupboards, no water came when she tested the faucet. She sighed, her mouth dry and stomach grumbling. Where else would have water? She found a bathroom, and her nose tingled as it picked up a faint chemical odor in the new room. No water came from the sink when she twirled the handle. Of course.

    She looked back up at the mirror, for the first time getting a good look at herself. The eyes that meet her gaze were entirely silver iris without whites, with vertical slits for pupils. Messy brown hair draped down past her shoulders. Wait, what? She examined her mouth. Oh no. Rather than normal, rectangular human teeth, her mouth was lined entirely with sharp, pointy, triangular teeth, with a forked tongue to round it off.

    One deep breath. A second deep breath. Why? Her claws gouged the ceramic sink as she gripped it. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. Stop making every little thing weird and wrong, she ranted to herself. Her grip on the sink relaxed after a moment as she calmed herself. The empty ache in her stomach made its presence known once again. This isn¡¯t helping. I just need to figure out what¡¯s going on. She tore herself away from the mirror and returned to the rest of the apartment.

    In the closet of the large bedroom to the left of the entrance, she found blankets and sheets. She spread the blankets out on the couch, shying away from the the cloud of dust kicked up. That looks like it will be enough. I guess it will have to be.

    She held a musty, off-white sheet in front of her. Could I just wrap this around myself? It¡¯s big. Maybe fold it in half first? The claw of her middle finger caught in the fabric as she wrestled with it. What? No. Stupid sharp claws. She reflexively jerked her hand away, widening the tear even more, the sheet still wrapped around her hand. She dropped the sheet to avoid ripping into it any more. Stupid, stupid.

    She took a deep breath. Just take it slowly this time. Having to work around wings and a tail put a damper on her inner fashion designer, but she eventually wrapped the sheet around herself with minimal catastrophic tearing. It¡¯s better than nothing, I guess.

    With the gnawing hunger still in her stomach, she returned to the living room. Her feet had torn up the carpeting wherever she¡¯d walked, leaving little tufts of brown sticking out of the floor. The glare of the sun through a hole in the plastic window covering caught her eye.

    I haven¡¯t looked outside yet. Are there people around? Maybe I¡¯m not so weird.

    She closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated. Distant talking reached her, though she couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying. Something large went by. She tore aside the taped up plastic sheet from the window, keeping away from it herself. A few people walked outside below her. She heard movement, and a car drove by. In the distance, a range of mountains dominated the skyline, with a patchwork of snow covering the highest peaks.

    OK, that¡¯s what a car sounds like. But no one has any wings. They¡¯re all normal. Now what am I supposed to do?

    She retreated from the window and crashed sideways on the couch. Her wing twisted inward, and the back of the couch bent her tail near her spine. Her surprised flails threw her off the couch. She shot back to her feet and uncurled her claws as she whirled around on the couch. It did not react. Of course.

    She relaxed and sat on at the edge of the couch with enough room between her back and the back of the couch for her to curl her tail around. She relaxed her wings to either side of her, having kept them tightly folded against her back since she¡¯d gotten up that day. Oh! That feels so much better. She stretched them out fully, each nearly as long as the couch itself. Wow. Those are¡­ big.

    Her stomach grumbled once again, catching her attention. Where can I find food? She paused when she remembered her teeth.

    Sharp teeth. That means something. Meat? Something to do with that? Her mouth watered. That does sound good. But I¡¯m really hungry right now, anything sounds good. I can smell so many people all around. That means food. They have to eat stuff too. The low, constant pain in her stomach persisted. She leaned her head back, stretching her neck. Maybe I can find out if something is going on. There¡¯s not much here. Maybe I¡¯ll go outside when the sun is down. It¡¯ll be better than just sitting here.

    ***

    Several hours later, she found herself back at the ground floor of the building, facing the dented metal door from last night. Open it. Just open it. I need food. Her hands did not comply. Maybe there are other people like me. People won¡¯t think I¡¯m weird. Who am I kidding? No one else looked like me at all. I¡¯m just some weird monster thing. They¡¯ll probably just throw me in a zoo or something.

    Her stomach growled. She winced as her stomach convulsed with pain for a moment. It doesn¡¯t have to take long. I won¡¯t go far enough to get lost. I can hear really well. I¡¯ll hear someone coming. Just open the door. She took a deep breath, opened the door, and took a few paces outside. No hordes of angry people arrived to jeer at her. The dumpster still smelled awful, but other than that, the air smelled just like a city would smell. A great stew of indistinct scents, many of which made her nose wrinkle. This isn¡¯t bad.

    She set off in a random direction, sticking to alleys, though the streets of the city seemed almost deserted. Sirens whined in the distance, though they never came too close. She rustled her wings a bit, her feet feeling stretched and sore every time her heel claws touched the ground. Flying would be cool. I don¡¯t know how, but it would be cool. These wings have to be good for something.

    A strip mall came up as she crept along; the Rocky Mountain Shopping Center according to the large sign in the parking lot out front. She sniffed. What¡¯s that! She whipped her head around, searching for the source of the sugary smell. Her eyes caught sight of a smiling donut with stick hands and feet. Donuts! She frowned at the sight of the darkened windows below the sign. Maybe later. Among the shops of the strip mall was a drug store. Out back, lit by several large bright lights, a man unloaded crates of bottles from the back of a truck.

    Water! He has water! But do I just ask for some? What if he says no? Or just runs away? How else do I get some water, though? Just take it? What if I get caught? I don¡¯t want to steal. But I just need some water, just a couple bottles. He has so many. I don¡¯t see anyone else. I guess he¡¯s the only one out here.

    She crept up as close as she could to the truck. Even with the sun down, she could see perfectly fine, with or without the lights. The worker stomped away with another load, grumbling something about his lazy ass partner. She ran as fast as she could to the back. Her feet skidded as her claws found traction. Don¡¯t trip. Please don¡¯t trip. She grabbed a crate. It was far lighter than she thought it would be, but she saw the water and wasn¡¯t about to complain.

    She rushed off before the man returned, straight back to her apartment. One of the plastic bottles had a large hole punched in it from one of her claws, but otherwise nothing had gone wrong. She downed an entire bottle, and the awful scratchy feeling in her mouth and throat finally vanished.

    OK, that didn¡¯t go so bad. She returned to the streets, heading in the opposite direction of the strip mall. Soon, she stumbled upon a newspaper vending machine thing for a paper called the Westward City Times. In its window was the front page, dated Saturday, April 13, 2013. Is that the name of this city? Or are we just west of something? The front page story of the newspaper didn¡¯t make any particular sense to her. A man in front of a burning building stood with fire shooting out of his hands. What? Why would he light a building on fire? That can¡¯t be real, can it?

    Just below the headline, she caught sight of the line ¡®by Olivia Parker¡¯. She spotted a couple more names skimming the article itself. People have names. I need one, right? I don¡¯t have one, I don¡¯t think. Could I just come up with one? What are some names? She looked back at the newspaper, her eyes drawn once again to the reporter¡¯s name. Olivia sounds like a nice name. Is it weird that I¡¯m taking it from someone else, though? She looked around at the empty streets. Well, no one else is around to call me weird. I guess I¡¯m Olivia.

    Olivia heard a car draw closer from behind her. She didn¡¯t know if it would turn down the street she was on, but she darted down an alleyway just in case. Right, food. Her heavy, awkward stomps had a bit more bounce to them as she left. I have a name now. Olivia. I like it.

    After two hours of fruitless searching and hiding, the tall buildings around Olivia gave way to row upon row of houses. She shied away, the grass lawns ahead of her didn¡¯t offer any place to hide, until she spotted several garbage bags piled on the sidewalk with a sleeve sticking out of the top of one. The sign on the bags said something about a pick up for a homeless shelter. Real clothes. But¡­ I can¡¯t just steal these. I won¡¯t die without them. These are for other people. Homeless people, too. But I guess I don¡¯t really have a home. I can just take a couple things, and put the rest back. That makes it better, right?

    Grabbing two bags, Olivia returned to her apartment once more. The clothes were old, but mercifully clean. After a set of underwear, she pulled out a pair of jeans that looked like they might fit. As she attempted to put them on, her heel claw caught on the first pant leg. Oh no! She jumped slightly, her front toes extended a bit, and the last eight inches of the jeans were shredded beyond repair. Oops. Maybe something not as tight. She dug up two pairs of large, baggy cargo pants and put them on successfully, though they only reached halfway down her shins.

    Tops were a bit trickier. The hem of the shirt caught on her wings as she pulled it down. After cutting bigger and bigger holes in the back, she eventually just cut two long slits all the way down a t-shirt, starting a couple inches under the collar. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but far more dignified than being wrapped in a bed sheet. She tailored several shirts accordingly, then stuffed the rest of the clothes back into the bags.

    OK, I¡¯m making progress.

    After dropping off the bags where she¡¯d found them, Olivia spent the rest of the night dodging people, with success, and looking for food, with no success. She wasn¡¯t desperate enough to dumpster dive quite yet, but she had seen what smelled like perfectly good food being thrown out behind a fast food joint. But those dumpsters smell so awful.

    There were few people out, even for the time of night. There was the occasional yell or scream in the night, but there were few cars and fewer pedestrians. Olivia could always hear a siren through the cool air though, sometimes very close by. Why are those always on?

    Olivia returned back to her apartment as the sun started to rise again, her stomach feeling like it was about to eat itself from the inside out. She lay face first on the couch, her feet sticking off of the side. Laying on her back just pushed her wings and tail into her back. Look at me. I¡¯m thinking of dumpster diving. What¡¯s the point? I¡¯m just kidding myself. I¡¯m just some weird monster thing. People would probably run screaming from me the moment I show up anywhere.

 2: Witness

    Chapter 2: Witness

    Olivia stared at the dumpster behind the fast food joint and sniffed. The burger patties were still in there, just as they had been five minutes ago when she¡¯d first approached it. The overpowering stench of rot and garbage surrounded them. Just grab the food. Get it over with before someone comes, she thought. She forced herself to grab the black plastic dumpster lid and lifted it. Her eyes watered. The boxes on top don¡¯t smell as bad. She hooked a cardboard box with a couple claws and fished it out.

    A light breeze cooled an already chilly spring evening as she hurried back to the apartment with her food. It caught on her partially folded wings, knocking her off balance for a moment. This might be quicker if I could fly. She slipped through the broken door on the ground floor and headed up the stairs to her home, nearly tripping and spilling her meal.

    She plopped the box down on the floor in front of her as she sat cross legged in the middle of the living room to give room for her tail and wings. The smell from the dumpster hadn¡¯t dissipated from it. She bit down on the damp, cold burger patty. Her throat closed off and her stomach convulsed. Forcing it down, she she grabbed a water bottle and washed away the stale aftertaste. At least I¡¯m not throwing up. She forced down most of the box¡¯s contents with two water bottles to keep the aftertaste from growing too bad. Her stomach still grumbled, though the pain had subsided.

    I can¡¯t get much lower than this, can I? What am I even doing? She left to walk around in the building and clear her head. Her wings, folded tight, arched over her head and constantly smacked into door frames. Maybe I can figure out how to fly. I don¡¯t have anything better to do.

    She climbed to the roof of her building on the sixth floor and observed the Sunday night traffic. Few people were out, and as she enjoyed the open space and fresh air, they dispersed. With the coast clear, she tried to psyche herself up to jump off a building. Just spread my wings and jump. That¡¯s what birds do, right? My wings look really wide in the mirror. Wide enough, right? Does that matter?

    The hard ground stretched on beneath her, with only six stories worth of insubstantial air between her and it. Why not jump? I have wings. Wings are for flying. But why fly? Walking is perfectly fine. I don¡¯t need to jump off a building. Why not? All I have to do is glide, nothing fancy. But what if I mess up? I¡¯ll probably break a bunch of bones, or die. She spent a full half hour second guessing herself. No one will notice if I fly or splatter on the ground, either way. At least flying might be fun. And so, with the coast all clear, she spread her wings out as far as they could go, closed her eyes, and leapt.

    The air rushed past her face, whipping her hair around. Her wings pulled at her back. They didn¡¯t shake, instead keeping strong and steady. She cracked an eye open. The ground passed below her, not growing any larger. She opened her eyes fully and looked around. Her wings kept her aloft and gliding. I¡¯m actually flying! She smiled. I can fly! I can actually fly! She tore her gaze from her wing and looked to the ground again. A web of cracks lined the empty sidewalks and streets below. It looks so weird from up here. She gave a quiet whoop of glee into the quiet night air.

    After gliding for about half a block, enjoying the almost weightless sensation of flying, she looked ahead. A much taller building loomed as she hurdled straight towards it. Bad, bad, bad. Turn. She tried leaning sharply to the right, accidentally folding her right wing in the process. She twisted and flailed as she plummeted, trying to catch the air with her wings again. At the sight of the rapidly approaching earth, she closed her eyes and brought her arms up around her head. Her shoulder slammed into the ground, and she rolled to a stop a couple paces away.

    She took in a labored breath, her chest screaming in pain as her lungs inflated. I¡¯m alive? She climbed to her feet, her knees weak. Her clawed hands shook from residual fear and adrenaline. Other than the massive pain in her shoulder, ribs, and wing, she felt intact. I¡¯m alive! She looked around. No one saw that?

    The concrete behind her had suffered worse than she had, cracking at the impact site. The sheer distance she¡¯d dropped seemed like it should have broken something important. You know what? I¡¯ll take it. It¡¯s about time something good happened.

    Olivia took a couple of tentative steps. Nothing besides her right flank hurt. She took that as a medical green light and headed back home. I¡¯m alive. I¡¯m actually alive and not dreaming. That hurt but I didn¡¯t wake up. And I can fly! I just need to figure out how to turn and stuff. She got out of the center of the street and reached the relative safety of the dark alleys and backstreets. I just need practice. Her shoulder let out a lance of pain as she made the mistake of rearranging her wings. Later. Practice later. I need to find more food anyways.

    ***

    The next night found Olivia standing on the edge of the roof again. Instead of apprehension clouding her face, her eyes were wide and eager. The pain in her shoulder had vanished as she slept during the day. She watched the streets below her for any sign of life.

    ¡°This won¡¯t be that bad,¡± she murmured to herself. ¡°It worked last time. Kind of.¡±

    Ignoring her still grumbling stomach, she spread her wings and jumped forward off the roof. Just as last time, her wings kept her steady as she glided at a jogging pace. OK. Turn. She leaned ever so slightly to the left, and her flight path shifted accordingly. She leaned to the right, a little sharper than before. Her path turned. A wide grin split her face. I¡¯m not crashing!

    A couple minutes, and many tentative turns later, she found herself getting closer and closer to rooftops. OK. I¡¯ve been drifting down. Up, up, how do I go up? She twisted her head around to look at her wings. Please? She returned her attention to in front of her. I need to, I don¡¯t know, do wing things. Almost reflexively, she twisted her wings at their base, angling them upwards, and rose into the air. Her smile faltered as she slowed to a stop in mid-air. Wait, no, falling bad. She pushed herself forward and caught the air with her wings again. Crash avoided!

    Olivia glided aimlessly for some time. A car below her had caused her to freeze up for a moment, but it moved on without pause. Then, with the ground finally approaching, a thought occurred to her. How do I land? The ground grew closer. With my feet? She arched her back and pulled up, as sharp as her wings and spine would let her. She shot up a few feet, then once again came to a stop in midair. Her arms flailed as she fell, feet first. The impact with the road made her knees buckle, and she collapsed on the ground. She took a deep breath after a moment, her clawed feet aching fiercely. OK. I think I¡¯ve stopped now. She got up and brushed the dirt and gravel from her arms and legs. The bridges between her back claw and the front of her feet burned in pain.

    ¡°That worked,¡± she murmured. Sort of.

    A smile still persisted on her face. She flexed her knee as she took a couple shaky steps away. I want to do that again! And where am I? It smells like people nearby. Maybe I can see what they¡¯re doing. They¡¯re there for a reason, right?

    On foot, she followed the smell of people to the back of a shop. She poked her head around the corner of a nearby building to see a man passing out bags of breads to several homeless people. Oh, so that¡¯s what non-dumpster bread smells like. Kind of like that donut shop, but not as good. But it¡¯s still food though. She kept watch, hoping that maybe she could ask the man giving out the bread for some once everyone else had left. Or is that a bad idea? I kind of scare me, what about them? She pulled back when one of the homeless approached where she hid.

    In the distance, someone screamed. The homeless man whirled around towards the sound, eyes wild. He hurried away, directly for Olivia. She froze. Scream, what was that scream? Around the corner, she heard several sets of footsteps heading away from where the scream had come from. A door slammed shut. Wait, no. A moment later, she found herself face to face with a shocked man, mouth agape beneath a scraggly greying beard.

    I should say something. Before she got a chance to open her mouth, the man dropped his bag and ran with a desperate cry. She stared after him as he scrambled around a corner. Oh. OK. Her wings drooped, their tips brushing against the ground. I¡¯m not going to¡­ OK. Her downcast eyes spotted the bag of bread he¡¯d left behind. He forgot it? Really? It¡¯s food. Should I give it back? I don¡¯t think he wants to see me again.

    She grabbed the bag and walked back to her apartment, her feet scratching against the concrete sidewalks. Screaming bad, avoid screaming. But could I¡­ no. I guess I couldn¡¯t really help. She didn¡¯t hear any other people nearby as she returned to her apartment. Once inside, she set the bread bag down on the counter, sliced it open, and took out a random loaf.

    The tag on the wrapper read ¡®wheat bread.¡¯ OK, let¡¯s see how this is. She took a big bite out of the loaf. Her chewing slowed to a stop not long after. Is this dirt? Is this what dirt tastes like? She considered the brown loaf, now with a large chunk of it missing. It¡¯s not bad. It¡¯s food, I guess. She forced the rest of it down. I think I liked the old burgers more. The bagel she tried next didn¡¯t taste much better. She eyed a twisted piece of bread with a brown powder sprinkled on top. That smells good. One last try. Once she cut away the thin plastic around it with a claw, she took a bite.

    Ohmygosh! This is so good! She stared at the bread thing for a moment, then shoved the rest in her mouth. What is this? I need to know. A quick glance at the sticker on the wrapper told her it was a cinnamon crusted pastry. Cinnamon. I like cinnamon.

    A yawn caught her by surprise. Is it time already? I must have flown a long way. And walked. And the bread thing. Right. She sighed and curled up on the couch, her tail hanging off the edge. All around her, cars moved, their engines filling the air with noise. The sun peeked over the horizon, its early morning rays shooting into Olivia¡¯s room. She grimaced and pulled her old, worn blanket over her head.

    ¡°Just let me sleep,¡± she murmured to herself.

    ***

    The next night, Olivia found herself in front of a dumpster yet again. Rather than a dumpster behind a fast food joint, however, this one was next to an inhabited apartment building, the scents of all sorts of people surrounding her. She lifted the lid. Hey, there¡¯s other stuff in here. With a claw, she hooked a ragged backpack out of the dumpster.

    Why is it all sticky? It smells like grape juice. Grape juice. How did I know that? What is a grape? It¡¯s a little round green fruit thing. I know that. I know what cars and apartments are too. How do I know that?

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    She paused, screwing her eyes shut. Think. People. Men and women. Different colors of hair. No. Think faces. A face. Different shapes of noses? No. A face. A specific face. A small, frustrated hiss escaped her, breaking her concentration. Nothing. A few strands of wavy brown hair dangled in her face. Her head was bowed, and her hands clenched the edge of the dumpster. She unclenched her teeth and stood upright, releasing the dumpster. She didn¡¯t notice the holes her claws had punched in the metal. I still can¡¯t remember anyone at all.

    She sighed and considered the dirty backpack, still in her hands. Maybe I can wash this off somewhere. She slung it over her shoulder and tucked it under a wing.

    Now what? Maybe I can focus on good smells. She took a few steps away from the dumpster and sniffed the air, taking in all the smells around her. Beyond the trash, the people, the cars, and all the things she had no names for, she picked up scents that didn¡¯t nauseate her. Oh, maybe that way. She walked further into the neighborhood, as always sticking to the shadows and back alleys. She¡¯d tried taking off just by jumping before, but that had led to a face-plant. I¡¯ll figure it out. Birds can do it.

    An hour later, she returned to her apartment with a box of Twinkies and a bag of beef jerky she¡¯d taken from someone¡¯s backyard next to a grill. I want a grill. That smelled good. And those people probably had lots of food if they¡¯re just leaving it out like that.

    She noticed a stamp on the side of the box of Twinkies. ¡®Expires 9/21/2416¡¯. What? The paper said it was 2013 now. She put the box on the counter in the kitchen, next to the old, stale bread. I¡¯ll try the other thing first. She fished another piece of jerky out of the large red plastic bag. This is really good. It¡¯s not all cold and damp like the burgers. She stretched her wings out and arched her back as she ate.

    Hunching over all the time like this is a pain. Maybe a table? Yeah, I could put stuff on it. Maybe I can check the other apartments. She stood up and stretched, working out the kinks in her back and wings from hunching over on the floor. Her wings tips brushed against opposite walls.

    She found what she was looking for a few doors over. The remains of a large, worn wooden table sat piled in the corner, with three of its leg snapped off. Oh, that could work. With her claws dug into the underside of it, she managed to carry it to her apartment, only smacking it against the walls a couple times. There, that wasn¡¯t that bad, she thought as she wrenched off the remaining leg by hand and set the table top down in the center of the living room. She sat down in front of it and found herself hunching over nearly as much as before.

    ¡°That¡¯s not helpful,¡± she murmured.

    I need to replace those legs. Oh¡­ idea! She headed downstairs, and out towards an abandoned lot near her building. Bits of ruined or discarded building materials littered the area. Maybe these? She carried four cinder blocks back up to her apartment. She set the chipped and dirty cinder blocks up under the table where the legs used to be. It¡¯s not as high as it was, but let¡¯s see how it is. She sat cross legged at the table and put her elbows on it, spine straight. I have a table thing! She smiled and looked around before remembering there was no one else in the room.

    I guess I have time to go flying again. Maybe. She headed to the roof of her building and looked around. It¡¯s dark and quiet. I have time. She took off and flew parallel to the mountains, heading towards the skyscrapers of the city. The grid patterned streets passed by below her. There¡¯s that big road thing that curves near that big stadium thing. I think I can make it to the road this time. I just need to be able to go higher.

    She pulled up, just a bit. But that makes me go slower. And if I turn my wings the other way, I go faster, but down. She bobbed up and down in the air, trying to build up enough speed to gain enough height. This isn¡¯t working. Maybe do what birds do. Flapping, right? But I need my wings out. Well, it might be worth a try. Falling doesn¡¯t hurt that much. She pumped her wings, gradually gaining altitude. Yeah! I can do it! After some time, she came to the large, elevated road. The large green sign above it read ¡®I-25 North¡¯.

    A glimmer of light over the horizon told her that it was time to return as everyone else began to wake up. She passed over the donut shop in the strip mall on her way back, already open and baking donuts. It still smelled amazing.

    ***

    A few days passed as Olivia fell into a routine, and that Friday was no exception. She tumbled off the couch as the last light of the day began to fade and stumbled over to her small pile of clothes. The cleanest she pulled out and changed into. In the kitchen, she opened up the cupboards where she kept the food she¡¯d found from around the city, using her knuckles to avoid putting any more gouges in the wooden doors.

    Half a box of old chicken nuggets a careless drunk at a gas station had thrown out and a sugary cinnamon bun wrapped in a thin plastic wrapper composed her breakfast, followed by the last of her unopened water bottles. She kept several others, filling them up at public water fountains. Olivia had also found a battered digital clock in the trash can behind a house, but hadn¡¯t managed to scavenge batteries for it yet, so she wasn¡¯t sure of the exact time. Regardless, the sun had just set, so she had a while before she could leave.

    She got up from her makeshift table and carved the sixth mark on the wall beside the front door with a claw. I¡¯m not going to forget who I am, even if it means have to carve my life story on the walls. I¡¯m not starting over again. Her memory, all six days of it, remained fine, but if it had been lost once, it could happen again. I existed before I woke up, right? I¡¯m not a baby or anything.

    With the latest mark cut deep into the drywall, Olivia moved on to cleaning her apartment, throwing discarded wrappers and shredded bits of fabric into an old salvaged trash bag with only a few holes in it. The less trash, the better the room smelled. She had been growing used to the constant assault of the city on her senses, though her nose still had its limits.

    Cleaning finished, she got around to reading a paper she had somewhat accidentally pried out of its vending machine the night before. She¡¯d tried opening one, just to see if it would, and wound up yanking the door off its plastic hinges. Olivia spread out the paper in front of her, elbows resting on the table. The front article was about the state governor¡¯s recently uncovered scandal. Something involving several young men and women, an unabridged dictionary, and several gallons of lead based paint. The article started delving into the strange details of exactly what had happened, and she quickly flipped the page, her claw leaving a tear at the edge. No, I don¡¯t want to know. No thank you.

    The next page mentioned a war. Olivia¡¯s brow furrowed as she read on. Two terrorists had triggered and thrown themselves at an army base in a place called Afghanistan with their newfound powers. One of the American casualties was a Colorado native. Olivia paused on the part about getting powers. Powers? She glanced at her scaly hands. That¡¯s like being different, right? Is that what happened to me?

    The rest of the newspaper was chock full of ads and trivial stories. Baby ducklings crossing a road with their mother got half a page worth of space. She finished with the paper after the seventh fluff piece, looked up to the window of the room, and listened. No sunlight came through, and she only heard the sounds of a few moving nearby cars. She ran to the roof top, ducking her head and folded wings under the doorways. She paused for a moment once she reached the roof, checking the streets for any bystanders she may have missed. She ran a couple steps the instant she was confident the coast was clear and leapt off the edge.

    Her wings caught the air the moment her claws left the roof, letting her coast over the streets. She angled her wings up, just by an inch, gaining enough altitude to keep clear of any other rooftops. A set of power lines ran in parallel to her flight path, its cables a constant tangling menace. She weaved up and down, secure in the knowledge that no one would ever look up and see her in the night sky.

    Olivia¡¯s body relaxed, flowing with the dips and turns. She didn¡¯t have to worry about anything in the air. No need to run around on the streets, torturing herself with anxiety that she had missed something or someone. She instead focused on keeping herself in the air. Her eyes combed the streets below her in perfect clarity, on the lookout for anything interesting. A car drove on below her, at about the same speed.

    She flew at twice the height of most of the buildings in the area, though the downtown skyscrapers still loomed above her to the north. She couldn¡¯t quite keep pace with the vehicles on the highways, but that was just another benchmark for her to reach.

    An hour passed as she glided over the city, occasionally swooping down hard for the rush of air past her face. Once the novelty wore off, she decided to see if there was any food she could find. Maybe that donut place has some stuff. She landed onto a building overlooking what she referred to as the donut strip mall, the first notable place outside of her apartment building that she had any memory of visiting.

    Before anything could catch her eye, she heard angry yelling from across the parking lot, hidden from view by the end of the mall. She hesitated before curiosity got the better of her. She glided to the top of an office building closer to where the shouting had come from, and froze.

    Three men surrounded a woman with her back pressed against a wall. One held a hand to his ribs, glaring at the woman through an eye half swollen shut. Another man held the woman in place with a firm grip on her upper arm and a knife shoved under her throat. The third looked on with crossed arms and an unpleasant smile on his face. The injured man did not grin, instead unleashing a torrent of profanity at the woman. The woman for her part glared right back at the trio in spite of the knife.

    Olivia¡¯s breathing quickened. There was no one else nearby. Their surroundings were nothing but closed stores, offices, and empty parking lots. She heard no sirens coming their way. The woman¡¯s cry for help had only brought Olivia. What do I do? I don¡¯t have a phone. There were three of them and one of her. She had no experience fighting anyone, she didn¡¯t want to hurt anyone. What am I doing? They have a knife. She could die and no one else is here to stop it.

    She leapt from the top of the building and glided towards the group. She nearly tripped over the claws she had in place of heels as she landed, though she went unnoticed by the men or woman. Once she¡¯d recovered, she shouted, ¡°Hey! What are you doing?¡± The grinning man and swollen eye turned, the one with the knife not moving.

    ¡°Fuck off,¡± called out the one with the knife, his eyes still fixed on the woman.

    At the same time grinning man and swollen eye turned to Olivia and froze. ¡°What the hell?¡± said grinning man as the grin slid off his face. The woman and two men stared in shock at Olivia.

    Knife man lowered his knife a bit and turned to get a look at her. He didn¡¯t break and run, but tightened his grip on the knife and turned to face her, shifting his free hand from the woman¡¯s upper arm to her throat. The third man¡¯s hand drifted to his back. Leave her alone.

    She uncurled her hands, revealing the long, dark grey claws, and snapped her wings outwards two feet to either side of her. Grinning man bolted down a nearby alley, followed closely by swollen eye and knife man, leaving the woman alone. Olivia turned to the woman, who pressed herself against the wall. Olivia realized that her teeth were bared and her claws were still out, ready to attack. She quickly straightened her back, folded her wings as best she could again, and curled her fingers, putting her hands behind her back.

    ¡°Um¡­ Are you OK?¡± she asked the woman.

    The woman¡¯s eyes widened even further, but broke out of her shocked silence. ¡°Yes. Yes I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°OK. Do¡­¡± Olivia trailed off as she tried to figure out what she should say next. A scream cut through the silence from the alley the would-be muggers had fled down. She heard grunts and dull thuds of flesh being hit, accompanied by cries of pain.

    ¡°Hang on,¡± she told the woman as she crept towards the alley.

    The woman darted away before she finished. Olivia turned a corner and stopped dead. A man in black clothing and a metal mask held a gun to the forehead of knife man. Swollen eye was on the ground, Olivia could see blood trickling from his foot. The no longer grinning man lay collapsed next to him, grasping his throat and choking.

    ¡°Sanchez¡¯s boys? I got some questions for you,¡± said the masked man, looming over the beaten knife man.

    ¡°No, you little prick,¡± he spat. ¡°We¡¯re gonna die. There¡¯s a-¡±

    ¡°Not what I¡¯m lookin¡¯ for.¡± Masked man pulled the trigger.

    The loud crack echoed off the surrounding walls. Oh god. Oh god he killed someone and he¡¯s got a gun and he¡¯s right there. Her heart raced, a cold sweat formed on the back of her neck.

    The masked man noticed Olivia out of the corner of his eye as the echoes of the gunshot faded. He backed away a pace and muttered, ¡°Shit.¡± His mask was a full face, grey metal thing, depicting a grinning face. What looked to be the butt of a long rifle poked over his left shoulder. He smelled of blood, metal, and curiously, donuts.

    Olivia and the man in black watched each other warily, unmoving. He didn¡¯t even come up to her shoulder. Olivia heard a sound and realized that she was hissing. Again her teeth were bared, claws were out, and she was tensed, ready to lunge. She cut the hissing out and slowly began to back away towards the street behind her. Don¡¯t shoot, don¡¯t shoot. The man didn¡¯t move, didn¡¯t react in any visible way. She reached the street, keeping an ear out for any following footsteps. The moment she realized there were none, she ran.

 3: Skulker

    Chapter 3: Skulker

    The heavy pounding of the guitar shook the foundations of the supposedly abandoned bar. Ben joined the screaming voices with a grin. The filthy walls of the basement were covered in various posters of bands who had graced the venue before. More power than simple sound shot from the speakers mounted to either side of the makeshift stage. Always fun when the band has super powers, Ben thought.

    Two halves of the roughly fifty person crowd separated, Ben included, and jumped to the sound of heavy metal. The beat picked up. Ben threw his mostly empty beer bottle into the face of a skinhead across from him, then joined in as the opposing sides charged. He ducked under a punch from somewhere, then came up in a shoulder check. The mass of people on the other side knocked him back. The press of bodies on all sides barely kept him on his feet. Ben laughed and sang along to the unintelligible lyrics, fist raised in the air. Someone screamed in pain off to the side. Ben pressed forward, twisting out of the way of a switchblade as it flashed out of the mob. Fucking skinhead.

    The next stab the skinhead took, Ben grabbed his hand and drove a fist into his wrist. As the knife dropped, Ben jabbed a thumb in his eye for his trouble. The skinhead¡¯s shock of pain allowed Ben to bring the elbow of his free arm down on the skinhead¡¯s nose. People around them cheered. Before the skinhead could recover, Ben shoved off of him and vanished into the mob around them.

    The drums reached a frantic pace. The mob eased off, then slammed into each other again. And again. And again. Ben lost track of the skinhead, time, and the stage, but no one else tried stabbing him again. Then mood of the mob shifted.

    Police sirens sounded, barely audible over what could only loosely be described as music. He laughed as warning shots were fired overhead and the door at the back of the room burst open. It just isn¡¯t a good underground mosh pit without the cops showing up. The mob began to disperse; the band cut off. Ben sprinted past fleeing mob members towards an open window set high in the wall of the basement. Shit, too tall to climb quick. He grinned again. Eight feet away, he reached, jumped, and teleported.

    The teleport put him close enough to the window, still in the same position as when he¡¯d jumped on the ground. His extended hand grabbed the ledge, and his momentum carried him fully through. He sprinted into the night as others began to climb the wall behind him. Others surged towards the police, who responded with rubber bullets. He teleported between the two cops waiting by the windows before they could react.

    With a couple more teleports, Ben left the sirens and screaming far behind him. Damn that was fun. Gotta remember that band. He slowed to a walk as he approached his car a few minutes later, an old forest green jeep with the back bumper rusted off. Scanning the abandoned parking lot, he unzipped his pant pocket and fished out his keys. The engine rattled as he attempted to start it. The check engine light lit up for the millionth time. Damn thing¡¯s been having ignition problems for the last month. The engine started properly on the third try.

    Time? He turned on the headlights, then tapped the clock on the jeep¡¯s radio. Three AM. Got some time before work starts. The engine didn¡¯t squeal in protest when he put it in reverse, so Ben backed out of the parking garage and onto the empty streets. He kept an eye out for any police cruisers on the road on his way back to his apartment. I don¡¯t think the grenades in the back are legal.

    Twenty minutes later, Ben slipped back to his apartment complex. His hands drummed against his legs from residual adrenaline. No one saw him as he entered his apartment and closed the door behind him. He jumped up a couple times in the living room, landing light on his feet. Need to do that more often. Work is killing me. Got maybe an hour until it¡¯s back to the grind. Damn bakeries and their early hours. Sleep?

    In his bedroom, Ben grabbed the long rifle off his bed and leaned it in the corner. The knives he threw on his desk. Uniform clean? Yes, good. He checked himself over as he changed. Some scuffs on my shins, didn¡¯t even feel those. That¡¯s a nice bruise on my chest, but no big deal, the uniform should cover that up.

    He held up the red collared shirt with the happy, smiling donut on the right breast. Should patrol tomorrow night, though. Sanchez has been getting real bold lately. The glint of his grinning mask on the nightstand caught the his eye. Gotta pay the bills. Not much else if you don¡¯t have a high school diploma. Besides, donuts are fucking awesome. There¡¯s about a billion worse jobs, and I¡¯m not missing out on much sleep anyways. He smiled to himself. Just gotta keep telling myself that.

    He put on the shirt, then crashed on the office chair in front of his computer. Any other bands like that? Ones with powers? Let¡¯s see here. Some fucking country singer, nope. Jazz, nope. Some religious nuts bitching about powers, nope. Come on, the world isn¡¯t this boring. There¡¯s gotta be something out there. He tore himself from his computer after an hour or so. No point putting it off. Time to make donuts, motherfucker!

    ***

    The next night, Ben grabbed a black duffel bag and laid it out on his bed. What do I need for tonight? He grabbed his sniper rifle in its sheathe first, stretching the bag lengthwise to fit it in. His few remaining flashbangs he¡¯d stolen from one of Sanchez¡¯s arms dealers went in next, followed by a pistol, its holster, and two magazines. He stuffed a switchblade into his boot and tossed a few more into his bag.

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    He moved onto the gear his brother Rob had made, pulling a long, curved knife from its sheath. Shit, do I need to sharpen this? He said something about that. He held it down on his desk, edge pointed up. With his free hand, he plucked a hair from his head and dropped it an inch above the knife. The strand of hair split in half the moment it floated down to touched the edge of the blade. Nope, still good. He set that in the bag, then examined his mask.

    On the outside, it looked like solid metal. Inside, two circular bits of glass marked the eyes. Over the mouth sat a small block of white plastic with slots over it. Rob had assured him any toxin going through would be neutralized. He had tried explaining how it worked once, everything he¡¯d said went way over Ben¡¯s head. It works, that¡¯s all I need to know. Soft grey felt covered the remainder of the inside.

    He placed the mask in the duffel bag and zipped it up. Where do I want to go tonight? Downtown? That where Sanchez¡¯s guys have been? Shit, I dunno. Flying blind is only so fun for so long. With the bag slung over his shoulder, he returned to his jeep. Five attempts to start it later, the engine rattled to life. North? South? Fuck it, right sends me north, and I don¡¯t have to wait for this damn light.

    The streets were close to empty once he began driving, with nearly half the cars he passed by cop cars. Damn, they¡¯re out in force. He kept his speed reasonable, not too fast, not too slow. Cops tended to despise vigilantes like himself. No one paid him any mind, he was just a guy driving in a beat up old car. He stopped at the top of a parking garage and strapped his equipment on over his hoodie and black pants. He slipped his mask on last. Skulker time!

    Skulker ran to the edge of the garage and jumped up to the edge of the wall. His teleport at maximum range brought him just across the street and onto the roof of the next building. He jumped from one building to another, never staying for more than a minute to observe the area. He didn¡¯t expect to find anything, but trying never hurt and it got him active.

    The city¡¯s criminal element had come roaring back with an almost cult like fervor since nearly disappearing last Christmas. ¡®Sanchez will have his due.¡¯ I¡¯ve just gotta find someone who won¡¯t just say that over and over again. From what he could pick up from the police band, the cops weren¡¯t having much luck either.

    He eventually stopped and sat on the edge of a building overlooking the Rocky Mountain Shopping Center, deciding to relax for a bit. It was a quiet April Monday, the air was refreshingly cool. It probably wouldn¡¯t warm up until sometime in May. The donut shop where he worked at was below him. Shouting came from the north side of the strip mall. Well what do you know? Grinning in anticipation of something to do, he hoped back to his feet and teleported.

    Before he reached what he had judged to be where the people were, he saw three men, running hard away from the street, blocked from Skulker¡¯s view by the building he was standing on. Hi there! He drew a switchblade. Just as they were about to run under his position, he jumped off the building, then teleported to the ground.

    As he landed in a crouch, he drove the blade into the foot of the first man, the one with an impressive puffy and swollen eye that would probably turn black in the next day or so. Skulker took advantage of the man¡¯s forward momentum to flip him over his shoulder, tearing out the knife in the process. The other two barely had time to react before Skulker righted himself and drove a kick into the stomach of the second man. The third man had a knife, and swung it wildly at him.

    Skulker teleported a couple feet through the gap between the two men, to just behind and to the side of the knife man, then spun and slashed at the armed man, leaving a shallow cut across his back. The second had recovered and swung a punch at him. Skulker ducked his head, saw that the man had overextended himself, then turned and brought his elbow into the man¡¯s throat as hard as he could. He went down gurgling.

    It was just Skulker and the knife man now. The man tried a desperate stab at Skulker, but he spun out of the way and drove his foot into the man¡¯s knee. He collapsed, knife coming free of his grip.

    ¡°Sanchez¡¯s boys? I got some questions for you,¡± said Skulker as he loomed over the man, pistol aimed at his forehead.

    The man laughed through ruined teeth. He spat blood and said, ¡°No, you little prick. We¡¯re gonna die. There¡¯s a-¡±

    ¡°Not what I¡¯m lookin¡¯ for.¡± Skulker cut off the man with a shot to the head. Before he could move on to the next one, he noticed someone about five feet away to his side and felt his smile evaporate. A big girl in ratty old clothes, with a massive pair of wings, clawed hands, and a tail loomed by the entrance to the alley. She might have been up to seven feet tall if she stood up straight, but the wings extending above her head made it hard to tell. Inhuman silver eyes locked onto him

    Oh fuck me, that¡¯s a feral.

    ¡°Shit¡± he muttered.

    The feral hunched over and hissed the moment Skulker made a move, claws uncurled and ready. He froze. He didn¡¯t bother trying to talk, ferals couldn¡¯t. They stared at each other for a long moment, his pistol still halfway between it and the dead man. If the stories were true it wouldn¡¯t even feel the bullets. Why the hell aren¡¯t you attacking? He prepared to freeze time the moment it made a move towards him.

    The feral¡¯s hissing died down, and it slowly started to back away. Skulker remained in place until she disappeared down the corner she came from, their eyes never leaving each other. Skulker took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. Beside him, the man with the bleeding foot whispered, ¡°Sweet Jesus, thank you.¡±

    Fuck. I¡¯m definitely gonna have to call cops now. Animal control is gonna need their help. Should have just shot the damn thing once it was running off.

    He pulled out a disposable phone and dialed 911. ¡°Hello, this is 911, what is your emergency?¡± asked a calm female voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m Skulker, vigilante, on 16th. Spotted a feral. Big, lizard, female.¡± One of the thugs at his feet groaned, rolling over with a hand pressed to his ribs. ¡°I also got three would be muggers here, one dead, two injured.¡±

    He hung up the phone before the 911 operator could respond and teleported away. Once he had a block¡¯s worth of distance between himself and the scene, he turned and headed towards his car, keeping out of sight the moment he spotted the headlights of a car. Fucking feral.

    Wait a minute, it was wearing clothes. What kind of feral does that? He slowed, reconsidering. Murder and disappearance rates had risen in the past year, though he hadn¡¯t hear of any murders chalked up to animal attacks. Can ferals be smart? And what the fuck was it doing around those three assholes? Damn it, something super weird is going on here.

 4: Silver Eye

    Chapter 4: Silver Eye

    Olivia slammed the door to her apartment closed behind her and leaned her weight against it, heart pounding in her chest. He killed a guy. That masked man killed a guy. They weren¡¯t even fighting any more. That guy was laying down and he just shot him and killed him. Why? Why? She took a deep, shaky breath. Her tail thrashed back and forth behind her, smacking against the door frame.

    The quiet night seemed exactly the same as before. It didn¡¯t seem to care she¡¯d just seen someone killed in cold blood. She took a moment to press her ear to the door. The whole building was silent, save her panicked breathing. It¡¯s OK. He didn¡¯t follow me. There¡¯s no one here but me. She stepped away from the door, hands shaking. It¡¯s OK. I¡¯m OK. A pleasant breeze picked up, whooshing past her open windows. She took a long look at the closed door to her apartment. Someone with a gun could just walk in here. The missing lock in the handle didn¡¯t fill her with confidence.

    She looked around for anything solid to put between her and the unsecured door. A collapsed dresser sat in a bedroom on the far end of the building. She hauled the dark wooden box over and shoved it against her door. The night remained quiet, save for the breeze outside. She paced, clawed hands uncurled and eyes fixed on the front door, until her feet began to ache. It¡¯s been a while. He might not have followed me. Exhaustion caught up to her, forcing her to stop and crash on the couch.

    The cheerful morning sun began its rise. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier as the looming specter of a grinning murderer faded. She spread her wings, wrapped her blankets around her shoulders, then tucked in her wings around over them. Her eyes never left the door until she finally fell asleep.

    ***

    Olivia awoke to a constant tapping sound from outside. Her blanket went flying as she bolted upright. What is that? She sniffed the air, smelling no one. A light evening rain came down outside the window. OK. It¡¯s just rain. That¡¯s all. Just rain. She curled her fingers and paced, trying to work out the sudden spike of adrenaline. The rain washed away the gas fumes and people smell the city usually carried. He didn¡¯t follow me back here last night.

    The rain didn¡¯t last too much longer. With little else to do after her tiny breakfast of water and another cinnamon bun, she paced back and forth. Six steps to one end of the living room, six steps to the other. Her nervous energy wore off, and the walls of her apartment seemed to grow closer and closer every minute. I can¡¯t stay in here forever. She glanced outside. No one has tried to get in. It¡¯s probably safe. But what if it isn¡¯t?

    She dragged the dresser aside and took a deep, calming breath. The hallway beyond sounded empty to her ears. She opened the door, poking her head out cautiously. Nothing but dust greeted her. See? I¡¯m fine. She went up to the roof of her building to stretch her wings. Far to the south, she could still see lightning flash through the clouds. The distant thunder barely registered to her ears. She sat at the edge of the roof, clawed feet dangling beneath her, wings and tail stretched out behind her

    The sun finally set as she thought, Why did that other guy show up and kill? Was I supposed to help that woman last night? I just wanted to help. She hung her head, unwilling to leave the relative safety of her building.

    ***

    The next day found Olivia pacing once again. The tips of her extended wings scraped against the walls of her apartment. Her stomach grumbled. No more ifs. I need food. She headed to the roof of her building. The claw on her heel nearly caught on the stairs several times as she walked. She took a deep breath of fresh air once she reached the top. The city stretched out before her. Streetlights twinkled in all directions. With a few steps, she dropped off the edge of the roof and began flying.

    A smile crept across her lips as the air rushed past her, whipping around her hair. Nothing up here but me. She looked up just in time to see a power line directly in her way. She tucked her wings in and dropped like a stone, passing just below black cables strung up between two weathered poles. OK. I still need to pay attention.

    After flying around for a bit and scrounging old fatty ham scraps from behind a closed deli, she looked back up to the sky. I wonder if I can takeoff from the ground this time. She ran forward a few steps and leapt as high as she could. At the same time, she spread her wings and pumped them as hard as she could. After a handful of failed attempts, she finally got the timing right, her wings pumping as she gained height and left the ground behind.

    She coasted on towards the mountains. The buildings here grew shorter and shorter, though the occasional taller one still stuck out. She experimented with diving and rising while flying. This part of the city had less people, and less power lines.

    Harsh voices caught her attention as she flew during a low point. She landed on a building. In a nearly empty parking lot, two men had a young couple cornered against their car. Not again. One of the attackers held up his arm. It took Olivia a moment to realize he held a gun, all harsh angles and dark grey metal. There was someone else there as well. A woman stood against a flickering streetlight, occasionally looking over her shoulder at the robbery in progress. She looked bored, with hooded eyes and a slouched posture. Why isn¡¯t she doing anything?

    She turned back to the robbery. He¡¯s got a gun. He could hurt them. Her hands shook. She clenched them, trying to wrestle control back, the claws biting into her palms. It took a couple deep breaths before she regained her composure. I can¡¯t just sit here. The guy with the gun isn¡¯t looking at me. I have to get him first. But how? Maybe I can just tackle him. When I hit the ground the first night the concrete cracked. Maybe I can do that. With her decision made, she took flight.

    She soared through the air, aiming for the man with the gun. Her body collided with his, the force of the impact shaking her. The man was flung off his feet, his pistol flying from his grasp. Shouting surrounded Olivia as she rolled to a stop, her claws digging into the asphalt of the parking lot. Blood rushing in her ears, she rushed to her feet and planted herself between the young couple and the two would be muggers. The man she¡¯d bowled over scrambled to his feet, his look of shock mirroring his friend¡¯s.

    ¡°Go away!¡± she roared.

    The two men backed away slowly. There was no trace of the woman at the street corner. Once Olivia made no further move towards them, the two men took off at a dead sprint to where the woman had been. She watched until they rounded a corner and were out of sight before turning towards the young couple behind her. The moment she looked at them, they slowly backed away from her, eyes wide. The man fumbled with the car door handle behind him. What did I do? Olivia shrank back, hiding her clawed hands behind her back. Their fear seemed to fade once she had backed away about fifteen feet. Sorry. She spun around and took flight, her wing nearly giving from the ache of the impact.

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    It¡¯s OK. No one got hurt. That¡¯s good. She circled in the air a few times as the couple got into their car. Once it was clear they were on their way with no more trouble, she began coasting roughly in the direction of her apartment building. She stopped midway through the trip, letting her wings and back rest for a few moments on a rooftop. A bright light caught her eye.

    The neon sign over the door read ¡®Laundromat¡¯. A woman and two men walked in and out with baskets full of clothes, clean and folded leaving, dirty and crumpled going in. So people can just wash their clothes there? Would they let me? She watched beyond the glass walls from across the street. The woman handed the teen behind the counter a strip of green. Money? That has to be money. Right? I just need money.

    She took flight once the ache in her shoulder and the adrenaline had faded, heading back to her apartment. The scraps of food she¡¯d picked up earlier weren¡¯t settling in her stomach well, but it beat gnawing hunger. The few people she saw on the streets never bothered to look up. They also avoided the smaller, less lit side streets Olivia used whenever she was on the ground. I guess I should be glad they don¡¯t. No one notices things there. Like the dirty ten dollar bill sitting on the curb down below her.

    Wait, really? Awesome! She landed, scooped up the money, and took off again. Cool! Now what can I do with this? Maybe get clean clothes? Olivia¡¯s nose caught a pleasant, familiar scent as she continued towards her building. Donuts! Food! Ten dollars is enough, right? There wouldn¡¯t be many people around this early in the morning, but the donut place would just be opening about now. She¡¯d nearly run into one of the workers a few days ago.

    She tilted, turning to the strip mall. I¡¯m finally going to get real food! The area was quiet as she landed near the side of the row of dim shops. The neon red and blue Open sign flickered below a picture of a donut with a happy, smiling face in the hole. She froze, just a few feet away from the door.

    What if there¡¯s other people in there? They might freak out. There¡¯s food in there, though. Not dumpster food. The sweet smell of sugar tickled her nostrils. It smells so good. Maybe I could buy a whole bunch of donuts with ten dollars. Hunger won out. She took a deep breath and opened the front door. Her head whipped up at the cheerful ring of a small bell above the door.

    ¡°Be with you in just a sec,¡± called out a rapid, clipped voice from the back.

    Donuts filled the glass displays up front, and a stack of newspapers lay next to the door. A few empty tables were scattered around the room. The scent of fresh bread and sugar filled the air, along with something else. Cinnamon! Olivia approached the donuts, the claws of her feet scraping against the freshly mopped floor tiles. They all look so good. The person who¡¯d called out came through a set of double doors backwards, pulling a cartload of donuts. Olivia thought she smelled something else familiar, but before she could place it the man turned.

    ¡°What can I getcha¡¯,¡± he began, trailing off at the sight of Olivia. His name tag read ¡®Benjamin¡¯. He wasn¡¯t a big guy, but his wide smile wavered only for a moment, even as his eyes widened and he muttered, ¡°You fuckin¡¯ kiddin¡¯ me?¡± under his breath. Something smelled off to Olivia, but she¡¯d already come this far.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she said with a small, uncertain wave.

    He started at her for a moment before replying, ¡°Hey.¡± His eyes lingered on her large scaly hands.

    ¡°Um, could I have some donuts? Please?¡± she added, tucking her hands behind her back.

    ¡°What was that?¡± he asked as fast as possible. ¡°Speak up.¡±

    She cleared her throat and repeated, ¡°Could I have some donuts please?¡±

    ¡°Sure. How many?¡± His grin never faded, though she thought she spotted tension in his shoulders. Sorry.

    Olivia looked up at the menu above them. A dozen is under ten dollars. ¡°A dozen?¡± Is that how I¡¯m supposed to order? I just have to say that?

    ¡°I can do that. Anythin¡¯ in particular?¡± he replied. He pulled out a cardboard box, eyes never leaving her.

    She paused a moment, struggling to parse his hastily spoken words. ¡°I don¡¯t know. They all look good. Um,¡± She looked back up at the menu, then down at the displayed donuts several times.

    ¡°I can pick out a dozen for you.¡±

    ¡°OK. Oh, cinnamon! Can I have any with cinnamon?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Sure, why not?¡± he said with a chuckle.

    As Benjamin started grabbing assorted donuts, the whole conversation struck Olivia as terribly awkward. It was also the longest conversation with another person she could remember. She sniffed the air, finally returning to that familiar smell.

    She finally realized the scent came from Benjamin. She recognized it. Blood, chemicals, metal, and the nearly, but not quite, overwhelming scent of donuts. Suddenly his now familiar wide smile seemed less jovial and more sinister. Her tail swished in agitation, and she backed away from the counter with wide eyes.

    His smile widened the next time he looked back up at her. ¡°Somethin¡¯ wrong?¡± he asked. ¡°This fever dream I¡¯m havin¡¯ about to get real dark?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re him,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Gonna have to be a little more specific than that,¡± said Benjamin, grabbing two more random donuts without taking his eyes off of her.

    ¡°You shot that guy.¡± Her voice picked up

    ¡°That so?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re him. You look like him and you smell like him.¡±

    ¡°Smell?¡± She gave a small nod, taking another step back. ¡°Huh. You know you¡¯re in the news, right?¡±

    His question caught her off guard. She blinked, frozen halfway between steps. What?

    ¡°Go look at a newspaper by the door. They¡¯re free.¡± He gestured towards the door, still speaking quickly. ¡°Front page.¡±

    She backed away, never taking her eyes of him, until she leaned over and picked up a newspaper. The front page had the title Feral Sighted in Westward City, along with a grainy picture of her in that stupid bed sheet she¡¯d worn the second night.

    ¡°Feral?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Benjamin finished packing her donuts, closing the box and setting it on the counter next to the register.

    ¡°Feral?¡± she repeated. ¡°What¡¯s a feral?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± As she opened her mouth to repeat herself for a third time, he added, ¡°No, no, I heard you. You don¡¯t know what a feral is?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a you. Kinda. Most are too dumb to talk. Cops and animal control are huntin¡¯ for you now.¡±

    Hunting? ¡°What? Why? What are they going to do?¡±

    ¡°Shoot you, probably. Security risk an¡¯ all that. But I ain¡¯t the cops.¡± Benjamin offered her the donut box. ¡°Your total¡¯s $8.16.¡±

    Mutely, Olivia gave him the ten dollar bill she found earlier. He passed her the donuts and her change. Shoot me. They¡¯re going to shoot me. Is he going to shoot me?

    ¡°See ya later!¡± he said with a wide grin that now fully mirrored his mask.

    She nodded and backed away again, nearly tripping over her own feet, the forgotten newspaper still clutched in her hand with the donuts. It was fully morning when she finally escaped the donut shop. More cars drove by, the sounds of their tires echoing off the tall buildings nearby. She took flight, heading straight back home as the sun warmed her back and wings. Unseen by anyone, she stormed into her apartment and collapsed on the couch. The donut box and newspaper fell to the floor by her hand.

    Her heart took a long time to stop racing. After hauling the dresser back to block the door, she returned to the couch and finally read the article of the paper. Animal control. Animal control is hunting me. People think I¡¯m just some feral thing. She sniffed a little bit, letting the paper drop to the ground once again. They said I can¡¯t even talk. I¡¯m a dumb animal. Am I just supposed to be some animal? A feral? What are they going to do to me if they catch me? Shoot me? That¡¯s what Benjamin said they would do.

    A frustrated hiss rose up in her throat. Why don¡¯t I know anything? Her claws dug into the paper. She took a deep breath and set the paper down. Enough, I have donuts. She picked up a fresh donuts still tasted far better than dumpster food. She inhaled three more in quick succession. The sun was full in the sky now, and she felt her eyelids droop. She settled back on the couch and tossed a blanket over herself, only partially covering herself.

    Sleep did not come easily. The claws of her long toes tapped against the bottom of her foot as she started at the ceiling, going over everything that day in her head. Who was that guy at the shop? He killed another guy that night. Did he just go right back to making donuts? Who would do that? But he didn¡¯t shoot me. Everyone else is afraid of me.

    For once, she slept on a full stomach.

 5: Vigilante

    Chapter 5: Vigilante

    Olivia woke to a knock on her door. Late afternoon sunlight beamed in through the window as she cracked her eyes open. What? She rolled off of the couch and stretched her wings as she stood up fully, brain still catching up. Wait, no one knows I¡¯m here. Her heart rate spiked. She sniffed and caught a whiff of Benjamin¡¯s scent. The pleasant donuts had faded, leaving behind only something metallic. It¡¯s him. Another knock, this time louder, more insistent. The front door still had a dresser in front of it, blocking it off. Frozen in place, she whipped her head towards the window in the room, the only other possible exit. Maybe he¡¯ll move on.

    ¡°You know this is the only closed an¡¯ locked door in this whole damn place, right?¡± he called out. ¡°I know you¡¯re in there.¡±

    She flung herself against the old dresser against the door with a thud. Her clawed feet dug deep into the floor, bracing in case he tried to force the door open. No, no, no.

    ¡°Whoa, calm down, I ain¡¯t lookin¡¯ for a fight,¡± he called out again, in his fast, clipped way. ¡°I damn near got fired for runnin¡¯ after you this mornin¡¯. Let¡¯s chat.¡±

    Olivia paused, not taking her weight from the door. He just wants to talk? That doesn¡¯t sound so bad. Wait, he has a gun. ¡°No,¡± she said, mustering as much force into her voice as she could.

    ¡°What was that? Can¡¯t hear you.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she repeated, raising her voice as high as she dared. ¡°Go away.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he asked.

    The question caught her off guard. Why does he want to know? I guess that¡¯s not too bad if it makes him go away. ¡°Olivia,¡± she called out.

    ¡°OK, Olivia, call me Ben, Skulker, whatever,¡± he yelled through the door. ¡°You really just wanna keep shoutin¡¯? Or do you wanna open the door so we can talk face to face?¡±

    ¡°No, I want you to go away,¡± she replied.

    He muttered something under his breath, though the door muffled most of it. Then he said, ¡°You know, most people you run into ain¡¯t gonna be as friendly as me. An¡¯ I don¡¯t lie. You don¡¯t got many options.¡± In the silence that followed, Olivia thought, I don¡¯t know. No one else has ever talked to me before. Maybe I can find something out.

    ¡°How did you find me here?¡± she asked.

    ¡°You went straight fuckin¡¯ here from the donut shop. Wasn¡¯t hard,¡± he replied.

    ¡°But I was flying.¡±

    ¡°An¡¯ I got workin¡¯ eyes. Wasn¡¯t expectin¡¯ this though. Pale Man¡¯s Palace, no wonder no one¡¯s stumbled on you yet. Place is freaky.¡±

    ¡°What is the Pale Man¡¯s Palace?¡± she asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s what the place is called. Well, it¡¯s really somethin¡¯ else, but no one gives a shit about that anymore. Supposed to be haunted.¡±

    Like, haunted by ghosts? Is that what that means? ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t find it weird no one¡¯s looted this fuckin¡¯ place? Pale Man¡¯s just an urban legend, but people steer clear anyways.¡± I haven¡¯t noticed anything. Ben continued in the silence that followed, ¡°Olivia, I¡¯ve put my gun away, an¡¯ if this goes nowhere you never gotta see me again. If you open this door we can talk face to face, nice an¡¯ easy.¡±

    Olivia rested her hand against the wall beside her, weighing her options. I guess. I think he¡¯s being honest. It sounds like he¡¯s being honest. He hasn¡¯t tried to force the door open or anything. He has been just talking.

    ¡°Hang on.¡± She finally pulled herself from the door and dragged the dresser out of the way, its wooden feet rasping against the threadbare carpet. With a deep breath, she opened the door and poked her head out.

    Ben¡¯s head whipped up towards her, still grinning. Rather, the metal mask grinned, he could be cross eyed and slack jawed for all she knew. He leaned against the opposite side of the hall, arms folded across his chest. They considered each other for a few moments. True to his word, he didn¡¯t have a weapon in hand, though it didn¡¯t take her long to spot a holstered pistol at his hip.

    ¡°Damn you¡¯re tall. Hi!¡± he said with a nod.

    ¡°Hello.¡± He nodded, should I nod? She added a hesitant, jerky nod after a brief moment.

    The mask threw her off. Other than his wary, tense shoulders, she couldn¡¯t tell his expression, if he was angry or happy or bored. Is he about to shoot? She glanced to the side. Closing the door would slow him down, and she could fling herself through the window and away from him. Ben¡¯s dark hoodie and jeans stood in stark contrast to the white wall behind him, though without the mask he wouldn¡¯t look out of place simply walking down the street. The massive rifle he¡¯d carried on his back before was nowhere in sight.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°How you doin¡¯?¡±

    Olivia blinked. ¡°I¡¯m OK.¡± They started at each other for another moment. Should I say something? ¡°What do you want?¡± she asked hesitantly.

    ¡°Right!¡± he said, pushing off the wall and standing upright. ¡°I believe that a mutual exchange of info is in order. Keeps anyone from gettin¡¯ shot or stabbed.¡±

    She tilted her head to the side, not certain she¡¯d heard him correctly. ¡°I thought you said people were going to shoot me. Why aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Cops. I said cops were gonna come after you. I think they try to catch ferals nowadays, not shoot ¡®em. An¡¯ besides, I coulda just shot you instead of knockin¡¯. Or this mornin¡¯. Or the day before. You get the point.¡±

    No one else has ever talked to me before. I guess he¡¯s right. ¡°OK. But you stay there. I stay in here.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± He relaxed noticeably, his foot tapping to a rhythm only he heard. Olivia remained hidden behind the door, only her head and half a wing exposed. He spread his hands wide and said, ¡°You look lost as fuck. What¡¯s up?¡±

    Olivia glanced down both ends of the hallway, just in case anyone else had snuck up on them, as well as to buy some time to gather her thoughts. The sun began to set, casting the hallway in an orange glow.

    ¡°So, who am I exactly,¡± she said, stumbling over the words. She braced herself for a laugh, or a curse, but she wanted answers.

    ¡°Fuck if I know,¡± said Skulker, as if that statement were obvious. ¡°Never seen you before in my life.¡± He held up a hand. ¡°Wait, wait, hold on. If you don¡¯t know who you are how do you know your name is Olivia?¡±

    ¡°Oh, um, I just picked it,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°Just picked it,¡± he repeated. ¡°Just Olivia? What a wasted opportunity. You coulda gotten creative with it! You coulda been Skullcrusher or somethin¡¯ cool!¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t want to be called Skullcrusher,¡± she whispered.

    Skulker either didn¡¯t hear or didn¡¯t care, as he said, ¡°Man, that¡¯s just sad. Last name coulda been somethin¡¯ like Coldheart. Middle name? Any ideas?¡±

    ¡°Never mind. I meant what am I? What is a feral?¡±

    He laughed and replied, ¡°A feral is big scary mutant thing. You know how people get freaky powers an¡¯ shit?¡±

    Olivia nodded. ¡°I guess.¡±

    He continued, ¡°Ferals get the same deal. But everythin¡¯ gets fucked up when it happens. Human gets smashed together with whatever. Elephants or bugs or some shit. They don¡¯t mesh too well, I think you¡¯re figurin¡¯ that out. I¡¯ve never heard of a feral talkin¡¯. Usually you lot just go on a killin¡¯ rampage until someone puts a bullet in you.¡±

    Human. I used to be human and normal. Her gaze dropped to the ground as she thought, Why me?

    ¡°So you first said you don¡¯t know who you are, right?¡± he asked, breaking her train of thought.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied, not looking at him.

    He nodded. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s somethin¡¯ we can work on. You¡¯re really fuckin¡¯ weird, I bet if we kick over a few rocks in the right places we¡¯ll probably find somethin¡¯.¡±

    Olivia nodded, struggling to keep up with the speed he talked at. Maybe we can find out who I am? Is that what he said? Can he do that?

    ¡°What do you remember?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Stuff. I know what a grape is, even though I don¡¯t ever remember seeing one. But, like, remembering stuff with me in it? Only a few days now.¡±

    His head leaned back slightly. ¡°Damn. The bits with you. What do you got?¡±

    ¡°Oh, with me.¡± I woke up with nothing. ¡°I didn¡¯t have anything.¡±

    ¡°Might wanna be a little more specific,¡± he prodded.

    ¡°I was naked,¡± she mumbled, staring at the floor.

    ¡°No clothes? No jewelry?¡± he asked without missing a beat.

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Anyone nearby?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    He started at her for a moment. Did I say something wrong? ¡°Are you fuckin¡¯ with me?¡±

    She flinched. ¡°What? No.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s weird as fuck. Never heard of anythin¡¯ like that. Anythin¡¯ around you? Anythin¡¯ at all? Anyone?¡±

    She paused, wracking her memories for anything that might help. ¡°No. I mean, it was raining. I was behind a dumpster. In that alleyway downstairs.¡±

    ¡°OK, that¡¯s a start. Not sure where to go with that. Tell you what, I¡¯ll give it some thought.¡±

    ¡°OK. And, um, I had another question.¡±

    ¡°Shoot.¡±

    ¡°What can superpowers do?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Anythin¡¯, I think. I teleport. My brother makes cool techie shit. Within reason. You ain¡¯t gonna find someone who can throw you into the sun, but if you¡¯re thinkin¡¯ small scale the sky¡¯s the limit.¡±

    She blinked. Did that make sense? ¡°So maybe someone could change someone else? Like, physically?¡±

    Skulker paused, staring at her for a moment as he leaned back. ¡°I dunno,¡± he said, slower than normal. ¡°Maybe. Somethin¡¯ like that¡¯d be dangerous though. Super fuckin¡¯ dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Oh, OK,¡± said Olivia in a small voice, trying not to show her disappointment.

    ¡°Hey, cheer up! At least you ain¡¯t dead yet,¡± he said. ¡°Now, my turn.¡± He arched his back, stretching, before he continued, ¡°Those dudes you ran off two nights ago, why¡¯d you do that?¡±

    ¡°Them?¡± she asked with a blink. What do they have to do with anything? ¡°They were trying to hurt someone.¡±

    ¡°That all?¡± he asked.

    Olivia frowned, ¡°What else would there be?¡±

    He chuckled. ¡°Fair enough. They¡¯re actually part of a larger problem I¡¯m workin¡¯ on. You see, they¡¯ve got a boss, goes by Sanchez. Not sure of his real name. They¡¯ve been doin¡¯ some very bad things lately, as you¡¯ve seen. You seem like you could be super helpful there.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t think I could do that.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want them runnin¡¯ around, doin¡¯ whatever they want, do you?¡± he asked, sounding almost offended.

    ¡°No. But what are the police doing?¡±

    ¡°Cops have got lots of shit on their plate. They¡¯re gettin¡¯ overwhelmed. And concerned citizens like you an¡¯ me have gotta be willin¡¯ to step up when we need to, don¡¯t you agree?¡±

    ¡°I guess.¡±

    ¡°Here is what I¡¯m proposin¡¯. I could use some help out there, an¡¯ you need help with your memories or whatever. It¡¯s not like you ain¡¯t done what I¡¯m askin¡¯ you to do already, right?¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± she replied again, doubt niggling in the back of her head. ¡°But there¡¯s a bunch of them, the guys with Sanchez, right?¡± she added, grasping for some reason to say no.

    ¡°You¡¯ve already pissed ¡®em off. You ain¡¯t exactly subtle.¡±

    ¡°But what would we be doing?¡±

    ¡°Lead cops to evidence. That¡¯s the short of it.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t sound bad. And he said he¡¯ll help me. ¡°OK,¡± she said,

    He pushed off the wall and gave her a lazy salute. ¡°Great! I¡¯ll see you around here tomorrow. Oh, an¡¯ I¡¯d keep out of sight of any cops if I were you.¡±

 6: Delta

    Chapter 6: Delta

    ¡°Hey, Delta, bosses want to see us,¡± Nomad called through the doorway into Delta¡¯s workshop.

    Amanda, Delta to those who didn¡¯t know her well, grunted in response, eyes fixed on the delicate circuit board in front of her. The towering pile of equipment in need of fixing from the MHU alone would take at least a month to get through. The paperwork and requisition forms necessary would take another month, not to mention an entire day devoted to a meeting in which Marcus would grill her for not working fast enough to replace the three other non-powered engineers he¡¯d seen fit to fire after hiring her. I should have gone corporate, or independent, she thought.

    There were four different computers set up around her chaotic workshop. One was dismantled, its guts strewn about on a desk, gathering dust. Various tools, most of them custom made, covered the workbench Amanda hunched over. A bright lamp clamped to a bucket on her desk, and the only source of light in the room, lit up her work. A whiff of smoke drifted into the air as she tapped solder against the heated iron on the circuit board.

    After a moment, with Amanda not making a move to get up, Nomad said, ¡°Come on, Cyrus has got something for us. Something about a feral in the city.¡±

    She sighed. Nomad was the fifth person this week to expect her to drop whatever it was she was doing and fix whatever new problem they had. The graveyard shift hadn¡¯t spared her from coworkers, and Cyrus had turned down her proposed security field that would zap anyone who walked in uninvited.

    ¡°Fine, just give me a minute. What do they need me for with a feral?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Apparently this one is weird. Skulker reported it an hour ago. Cyrus and Marcus are with a witness right now.¡±

    She put the circuit board down. ¡°Lead on,¡± she said as she got up. As they walked through the halls of the local Meta-Human Unit headquarters, she asked, ¡°Skulker, that vigilante with the smiley mask? Crippled three of Sanchez¡¯s men up north last week?¡± Nomad nodded silently. ¡°He didn¡¯t just shoot the feral?¡±

    Nomad looked to be about Amanda¡¯s age and twice her size, in his very early twenties and fresh out of the Academy. The swishes of his standard issue Meta-Human Unit fatigues echoed off the heavy concrete walls surrounding them. As they walked, Amanda wracked her brain for his real name. Bob? Jeremiah? No. Chris, that¡¯s it. He¡¯s the other new guy with powers. She had to crane her neck up to look at him.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m not quite sure what the story is. Cyrus called me up and told me to get you. You know as much as I do now,¡± Nomad responded. He sighed, ¡°Everyone is already hunting for Sanchez, we don¡¯t need a feral on top of this.¡±

    ¡°No kidding. Marcus had me working all week on crowd recognition software.¡±

    They crossed the building and walked up to one of the conference rooms. The room was like the rest of the headquarters, heavily fortified and utilitarian in the extreme. Amanda had grown to hate the sight of drab off white. The omnipresent roar of the AC cut out completely when Amanda and Nomad closed the door behind them, leaving them with comfortable silence. Sitting around the long table were Marcus and Cyrus. A civilian woman, at the head of the table, observed the argument Cyrus and Marcus were having with nervous back and forth glances as Nomad and Delta walked in.

    Marcus wore the same uniform as Nomad, grey camo pants and shirt made out of tough fabric. The second in command of the MHU leaned forward in his chair, visibly agitated. ¡°¡­it¡¯s just ridiculous. How could we have not heard anything about this until just now? You are obviously mistaken,¡± Marcus said, gesturing to the tired woman in her early forties with somewhat smeared makeup.

    ¡°I know what I saw,¡± the woman shot back.

    ¡°Both of you, please,¡± Cyrus broke in before either either could say anything more, his Persian accent faint.

    Cyrus was only of average height and build, which didn¡¯t quite fit his reputation amongst the average citizen. He had a magnificent black beard, and a helmet that covered the top half of his face, but left his vision unimpaired. He wore the light armor the secret service had let him keep. Despite the fact that Marcus was the most powerful mage in Colorado and quick to let anyone know it, Cyrus seemed to occupy the whole room with quiet confidence. He paused to make sure he¡¯d been obeyed before continuing.

    ¡°Delta, Nomad. Thank you for joining us. Now,¡± He gestured to the woman, ¡°Please, tell us your story. From the beginning, the short and sweet version.¡±

    ¡°OK. So I was walking back to my hotel after visiting some friends. We¡¯d gone to a bar and probably stayed out later than we should have. I mean, it had been forever since we¡¯d seen each other and I¡¯m from out of town and¡­¡±

    Cyrus cut her off. ¡°Focus, please. We need relevant details.¡±

    ¡°OK, sorry. I was alone, walking back since I wanted some fresh air and I was probably a little drunk, and these three guys came out and surrounded me. I screamed for help and punched one a couple times, but then one of them came at me with a knife. He had it up to my throat when the girl with wings ran up and yelled out at them.¡±

    Marcus snorted, ¡°Yes, some feral just talked in a complete sentence. It was probably a shifter or something.¡±

    ¡°Marcus,¡± warned Cyrus, ¡°let her finish.¡±

    ¡°Anyways,¡± she continued, trading glares with Marcus, ¡°We were all standing there when I noticed she had claws on her hands. Then she started hissing and looked like she was about to attack or something. The guys ran off.¡± Amanda frowned, taking a moment to parse the woman¡¯s somewhat scattered story. So she made a bad decision, was about to be mugged, and a thing with clawed hands scared the would-be muggers off. She says it¡¯s a feral, but that¡¯s like saying a lion ran a daycare.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you? You should know that ferals are dangerous.¡± interjected Nomad.

    ¡°I was kind of in shock,¡± she replied. ¡°She hadn¡¯t stopped hissing when the men left. I thought I was a goner when she just stopped and asked if I was OK. I told her I was, then she ran after the men. I left and called the police as soon as I could.¡±

    ¡°What did it say?¡±

    ¡°Not much. I think it was just, ''Leave her alone.'' That''s all.¡±

    ¡°Describe the feral for us again,¡± said Cyrus.

    ¡°Alright. She had a normal woman¡¯s body, but, like, super tall. Over six feet, easily. Her hands and feet were reptilian, and the fingers and toes ended in claws. She had a tail and wings, and all of this was with dark green scales. She had silver snake eyes, and her teeth were all sharp, like a shark¡¯s. She was dressed in some bulky old clothes. That¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°Could it have been a shapeshifter instead?¡± asked Marcus. That¡¯s a good point.

    The woman considered for a moment. ¡°I suppose,¡± she hedged. ¡°But shapeshifters don¡¯t look all warped and stuff, right? Her hands and feet were way too big.¡±

    ¡°The alternative is a feral, a mindless animal, wore clothing, spoke to you, then just left you alone,¡± challenged Marcus.

    ¡°Enough,¡± said Cyrus firmly before the woman had a chance to respond. He turned to her and said, ¡°Thank you for your cooperation. Marcus here will escort you to the police department, so you can identify your attackers, provide a statement, and so forth. Marcus?¡± He looked at Marcus expectantly. He grudgingly rose from his seat, and didn¡¯t bother to hold the door open for the woman following behind him.

    Delta mused on the new information for a moment, as did everyone else. Hmm. This is new. Ferals are just half human half animal things with fucked up heads that kill people. This is probably some new kid with a power, but Cyrus seems to believe it¡¯s a feral. Weird. When the door closed behind the woman and Marcus, Cyrus turned to Nomad and Delta.

    Delta spoke up, ¡°Has something like this ever happened before?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± responded Cyrus, ¡°Two or three times. That¡¯s why the two of you are going to track her down.¡±

    What? Just the two of us?

    Ahead of any questions they could voice, Cyrus raised a placating hand and said, ¡°If she is a shapeshifter, we¡¯ll bring her in for a stern talking to. But if she is a feral, and it sounds like she is, we have a potential bomb ready to go off. I know this a big if. But there have been no attacks. Yet. We don¡¯t want to provoke her into attacks. You will find her and give us a preliminary assessment of her mental situation, if she can be reasoned with or if she is just another feral. If she is feral, us and animal control go in. If not, perhaps we can negotiate peacefully. Questions?¡±

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Why us?¡± asked Delta immediately. Nomad nodded.

    ¡°You because your power lends itself to information gathering. I would be shocked if she hasn¡¯t shown up on a security camera somewhere.¡± A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. ¡°And I believe you¡¯ve been looking to get out of your workshop, yes? You told Marcus as much in more colorful terms, If what I¡¯m lead to believe is true.¡±

    Delta bit her lip. I knew that little outburst was going to come back to bite me in the ass. Cyrus turned to Nomad.

    ¡°Nomad, you¡¯ve gotten situated with your squad, now it¡¯s time for you to take a leadership role. That, and I believe the average feral would be completely unable to harm you.¡± Nomad nodded hesitantly. ¡°Now don¡¯t get me wrong, we are taking every precaution in this matter. Warning civilians, telling the police and our patrols to be alert, and the rest. The instant we believe she poses a threat, animal control subdues her. But if I¡¯m right about this, we could have chance of avoiding violence. Now, I believe you two have some work ahead of you. Nomad, you¡¯re in charge. If you need backup, your squad is on standby.¡±

    Finding it shouldn¡¯t be too hard. If I can¡¯t outsmart a feral, I don¡¯t deserve to be here. I¡¯m not sure how we¡¯re supposed to reason with it after, though.

    Cyrus added, ¡°Oh yes, a word of warning. You¡¯ll get a more complete briefing with the rest of the unit later but we¡¯re starting to believe that Sanchez is getting outside help. Be careful out there.¡±

    They filed out and parted ways with Cyrus. ¡°Want to head back to your workshop? That would make a good place to set things up,¡± said Nomad.

    She stiffened at the thought of someone else in her workshop for extended periods of time. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one there, and you¡¯re only using about half the space. From what I hear you¡¯re kind of a hermit,¡± he said, casting her a wary look.

    I wouldn¡¯t have to lug shit around if we set up there. ¡°Fine.¡± She led the way back.

    ¡°You¡¯re a techie, right?¡± asked Nomad as he sat, scratching at the skin under the deep blue bandana around his neck.

    Delta sighed. She hated her job. There were few more condescending words for a super powered engineer or scientist than techie. There were other, better names for engineers, but the term techie was ingrained in the American public¡¯s, and therefore most unlearned American super¡¯s, psyche. ¡°I specialize in electricity and electronics.¡± It was vastly more complicated than that, but that¡¯s what the end result was, and explaining it further would be wasted breath. ¡°You have something to do with water?¡± she trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

    ¡°More or less. I turn into a blue liquid. It¡¯s not water though. I¡¯m completely in control, can change my shape, and can snap back to normal at will.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°So the feral will basically be trying to beat up a pool of water when this goes bad.¡±

    ¡°Pretty much.¡± He leaned back. ¡°Do you have any thoughts?¡±

    Delta smiled. ¡°A few.¡±

    ***

    The hunt started well enough. Amanda had programs sifting through security feeds and logs from the nearby stores and buildings in a roughly five block radius from where the feral had been spotted. It didn¡¯t take long to find footage from an ATM camera from over a week ago. It was the potential feral, matching the woman¡¯s description, wrapped in some sort of bed sheet. It¡¯s been around for a while. It¡¯s actively looked for clothes since then, the woman would have said if it was wearing a bedsheet. I can¡¯t think of why a shapeshifter would wear that, either. She sent the picture to the newspapers and continued her work.

    Amanda and Nomad didn¡¯t see much of each other the first day. While Amanda handled the technical aspects, Nomad attempted to make contact with Skulker, to see if the vigilante had anything else to add. Unfortunately, like most vigilantes, he¡¯d proven difficult for anyone to find. The two living men he¡¯d hospitalized had at least corroborated the woman¡¯s description of the feral, though Nomad told Delta he figured the glowing eyes were an embellishment on their part. Must be nice to be independent. You just dump criminals on the government¡¯s doorstep and let us do the paperwork.

    Two days after Cyrus had first called them in, they strolled into the workshop at the beginning of their shift to reconvene. A single, lonely fluorescent light high up on the ceiling struggled to keep the room lit. The map of the city they had pinned to a corkboard had been shoved into the corner, with a series of shrinking concentric circles corresponding to the feral sightings.

    ¡°What time did you go home last night?¡± asked Nomad. ¡°Jeremiah said he saw you leave, but he¡¯s on in the afternoon.¡±

    That¡¯s a change of pace. She followed his gaze to her desk, strewn with empty instant noodle bowls. Nomad was thankfully quiet, reserved, and not too imposing when Delta worked on something. He¡¯d never asked her about anything outside of their jobs before.

    ¡°Two in the afternoon.¡± She slammed back the entire cup of coffee she held, embracing the caffeine and ignoring the heat.

    ¡°You¡¯re operating on five hours of sleep right now,¡± he stated, eyebrow raised.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I do this all the time.¡± She took her seat and booted up a laptop.

    He nodded slowly. ¡°Sure. Are you going to be up to catching a feral?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got all my gear ready. Although,¡± she said, trailing off as a thought occurred to her.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s reptilian. It could be cold blooded,¡± she said. Seeing his curious expression, she added, ¡°I¡¯ve got thermal sensors that let me see people through most walls.¡±

    Nomad frowned, considering. ¡°Don¡¯t lizards and snakes sun themselves? They¡¯re cold blooded. This feral is only running around at night.¡±

    ¡°Good point. I¡¯m set.¡±

    ¡°No, your gear is set. Are you set?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    He cast her a wary gaze, but said nothing more. He took a seat in an old, worn out office chair, forming a triangle with Amanda and the map.

    ¡°I got a collection of sources about ferals you asked for,¡± she said. ¡°I just sent it to you.¡±

    That had been a fascinating internet trawl. Just as supers had been around forever, so had ferals. But there were so few constants among ferals it was hard to verify anything about them. The only consistency was that they had to be based on Earth DNA. As for intelligence, the smartest feral recorded to date was named Steve, a large hairy serpent with eight legs. According to his IQ test he was only slightly behind the average person.

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll give it a look over once we¡¯re done here,¡± he said. ¡°I talked with a herpetologist, there aren¡¯t enough defining features on the feral for him to give a good guess about its behavior. He did say it looked like the wings were vestigial. They¡¯re too short for anything that big to fly. I think we have a good range to work with now.¡±

    He gestured to their map, the smallest circle of which covered four blocks in the area where Skulker reported it.

    ¡°That¡¯s where most of the sightings we¡¯ve had, and there¡¯s plenty of abandoned buildings in the area. Food has been stolen and it¡¯s scavenging clothes. And I think it does possess intelligence, especially since we¡¯ve had so few sightings of it over two weeks. But it has to be sleeping somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ve got a tracking system all set up for it, and I just finished the modified taser for you,¡± said Amanda, passing him what seemed to be a normal taser. It wasn¡¯t hard for Delta to modify them so that they knocked people unconscious without any risk to the heart. ¡°These should knock it out. I pumped up the power a bit just to be safe.¡±

    Just then, Nomad¡¯s phone let out a chime. He frowned as he read. ¡°Our feral popped up again. It stopped another mugging.¡±

    ¡°Another?¡± Amanda replied. I would have thought the first one was a fluke.

    He nodded. ¡°There are two witnesses. Bob is waiting with them at my desk.¡±

    They gathered their things and hurried out. Down the hallway were the offices for the MHU officers offices. It was a large open room, with a dozen desks scattered around. Most were unoccupied, Sanchez keeping most of the unit busy. Most were covered in documents and keepsakes. Amanda spotted an ornately carved human skull painted vivid reds and blues with a tiny ethereal feathered serpent twisting through the empty eye sockets, being used as a paperweight. They quickly spotted their witnesses.

    Compared to the others, Nomad¡¯s desk was relatively austere, with only a small framed picture of him and another girl his age for decoration. Girlfriend? Doesn¡¯t look like his sister. The two witnesses, a young couple looking around nervously, hung off to the side.

    Bob, a somewhat rotund middle aged man sporting a massive, well groomed mustache, greeted them. ¡°New Guy, New Girl,¡± he said, nodding to Nomad and Amanda in turn. Even speaking normally, his voice boomed, carrying throughout the space. ¡°What took you so long?¡±

    ¡°We came as soon as you texted me,¡± replied Nomad.

    ¡°Huh. Cyrus said he was going to get you.¡±

    ¡°We never saw him,¡± replied Nomad. Bob sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose, grumbling under his breath. ¡°Something wrong?¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s just been forgetting stuff like that more and more lately. He called me some Persian name the other day. I¡¯ll ask him about it later.¡±

    Nomad nodded. He leaned in and asked, ¡°How are the witnesses?¡±

    ¡°A bit shook up, otherwise they¡¯re unharmed,¡± replied Bob, his voice pointlessly low. The young couple still noticed. ¡°They¡¯ve been talkative so far. They already gave their statements to the police.¡±

    ¡°Nothing strange?¡±

    ¡°Nope, they were out on a date, were in the wrong place at the wrong time, so far as I can tell.¡±

    ¡°Alright, thanks. Bob.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing.¡± Bob turned to the couple and said, ¡°This is where I leave you. This is Nomad and Delta. They¡¯re the ones looking into the feral you saw. They just have a couple questions for you, than you¡¯re free to go.¡± With that, Bob sauntered off in the direction of the break room and its coffee machine.

    The man, who looked to be in his mid twenties, cleared his throat and stepped forward towards them, managing a nervous smile.

    ¡°Hello,¡± said Nomad. ¡°If you would, describe what happened for us. When did the feral first appear?¡±

    The man spoke first, ¡°We were being held at gunpoint. The guy was telling us to hand over our wallets. Then it swooped down and took him out.¡±

    The woman Amanda assumed was his girlfriend chimed in, ¡°It flew down hit the guy with the gun.¡±

    ¡°So the feral tackled the biggest threat. OK. And I¡¯m sorry, did you say it flew?¡± asked Nomad. Amanda sighed. So much for them being vestigial.

    ¡°Yeah. And I wouldn¡¯t say tackled,¡± clarified the man.

    ¡°Oh?¡± prompted Nomad.

    ¡°No. It kind of awkwardly ran into him. Its arms were kind of just out,¡± he said, holding a T pose for a moment with elbows half bent.

    ¡°Yeah, I didn¡¯t notice it at the time, but looking back it was really strange,¡± added the woman.

    ¡°Not the only thing strange about this feral,¡± said Nomad. Should you be telling the public that? He continued, ¡°So, the feral hit the man. They go to the ground. And?¡±

    ¡°It got up and roared.¡±

    The woman nodded emphatically. ¡°It was super loud. Like something out of a dinosaur movie.¡±

    ¡°That made the guys run off,¡± said the man. ¡°Then it kind of just looked at us and flew away.¡±

    ¡°It flew away,¡± said Nomad, for clarification. Amanda leaned forward, eyes fixed on the man. Does it glide or really fly?

    ¡°Yes. It just jumped into the air and flapped its wings.¡± Fuck.

    ¡°So it didn¡¯t actually talk at any point?¡± asked Nomad.

    They both shook their heads. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± asked the guy. ¡°Has it before?¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± replied Amanda. ¡°We¡¯re trying to confirm.¡±

    ¡°Do you have anything to add? Any other weird behavior or anything like that?¡±

    The man and woman exchanged glanced, then the man said, ¡°No. I hope this helps.¡±

    ¡°Yes, absolutely. If that¡¯s all?¡± said Nomad, shooting Amanda a look for confirmation. She nodded. ¡°Thank you for your time. I¡¯ll see you out.¡±

    They reconvened in the workshop.

    ¡°Well that was something,¡± said Amanda, the moment Nomad walked through the door.

    ¡°That was a pattern, at least the start of one,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Could it understand right and wrong? Is that something ferals can do?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. We¡¯ll find out when we meet her. I¡¯ll tell Cyrus that we will probably have something for him by tomorrow. You get started finding out which buildings in the area are unused.¡±

 7: Fast Track

    Chapter 7: Fast Track

    Olivia closed the front door to her apartment once Skulker left as politely as she could, fighting the urge to slam it shut. She unclenched her feet, pulling the claws out from the carpet. As Skulker¡¯s footsteps faded, she slumped against the wall. OK. He¡¯s gone now. That wasn¡¯t a disaster. Her stomach grumbled as she thought, What did I just agree to?

    The last moments of sunlight or the day trickled in from the window. Olivia took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. Though she hadn¡¯t noticed while talking, she was covered in a cold sweat. I think I smell kind of bad. I can¡¯t use the bath here. She paced, the simple act of moving easing her tension. Her tail brushed against the old drapes she was using as blankets. They had been thrown halfway across the room when she¡¯d woken up to Skulker¡¯s knock. A few messy knots of hair drifted in front of her face as she remade her makeshift sheets on the couch. Now what? Her stomach rumbled, sending a jolt of pain through her.

    She checked the donut box she¡¯d bought that morning. She¡¯d torn through them the moment she got back, leaving only two and some crumbs. They¡¯re better than dumpster food. Her stomach still ached, even after finishing them off. I need more food. I always need more food. Maybe I should wait, though. Maybe I can look around in here. Didn¡¯t Skulker say this place was haunted?

    Her apartment on the fourth floor at least seemed lived in. Most of the dust had dissipated thanks to her keeping a window open, and the random stuff she¡¯d gathered was scattered around. She began a more thorough check of the building. When she¡¯d first woken up, she¡¯d only given it a cursory look over. Contrary to what Skulker had said, the first two floors had very much been looted. A few rooms even had graffiti, though most looked faded.

    Things changed on the third floor. In one of the rooms she¡¯d overlooked before, she spotted a half looted apartment. A washer and dryer with 1983 printed on the side stood in the middle of the room, next to a partially rolled carpet. Half the carpet was still attached to the floor, as if someone had stopped pulling it up halfway through the job.

    Is this weird? This seems weird. Why would anyone just leave a washer here, even if it is old? Could I use these? I need to clean my clothes. But wait, there¡¯s no electricity in here. A washer and dryer probably need electricity. Right? That seems like something they would need. She moved on. Her own floor and fifth floor seemed completely unscathed, with random bits of old furniture scattered around. She climbed the stairs one last time to find herself on the roof.

    I guess that¡¯s the whole building. It doesn¡¯t seem haunted. Now what? She sat at the edge of the roof to enjoy the feel of the breeze on her wings and the lack of weight on her feet. The city stretched on before her, a mass of twinkling lights and roaring engines. There¡¯s so much stuff here. How far does the city go? She relaxed, stretching out her tail behind her. Where did I come from? I probably came from somewhere in this city, right? I couldn¡¯t have just popped into being. Or could a superpower do that? She sighed, unwilling to delve further into the rabbit hole.

    Well, Skulker was asking about the stuff from when I first woke up. Maybe I missed something down there. She spread her wings and hopped off the edge of the roof. She glided and pulled a sharp turn, heading for the alley in which she had first awoken during a rainstorm more than a week ago. To her left was the main door she used, a metal door that had buckled in the middle, featuring four long scratches from her claws. To her right was the dumpster her head had rested on. Beyond that, the alley was as nondescript as they came, the only notable feature being a pair of cracks in the concrete vaguely forming the shape of a dog.

    The sheer amount of rot coming from the dumpster surprised her. Does this ever get emptied? It doesn¡¯t look like it. Maybe there are some clues. She held her breath and forced herself to lean in, eyes watering as she surveyed the dumpster. I have no idea what I¡¯m looking for. This is all just rotting trash.

    She looked back at the six story building she called home, the tallest around for a block in any direction. The area seemed to mock her with a lack of answers. With little else to do, Olivia took flight. I haven¡¯t gone towards all the really big buildings over there before. Maybe I can do that. Maybe there¡¯s food there.

    She flew in parallel to the mountains, heading towards the skyscrapers of the city¡¯s center. The closer she got, the taller they seemed to loom, lights along their rooftops flickering on and off in some set pattern. What caught her eye was a strip of land devoid of any buildings. A park, empty of any people stretched on below her as she coasted down. Beside it stood an old looking building with a golden dome. Massive trees, many times larger than the ones she¡¯d seen along sidewalks or in yards, grew all throughout.

    Distracted, she failed to notice a handful of branches in the night sky. Her wing clipped them and folded, sending her spinning and plummeting towards the earth. No! With the ground fast approaching, she twisted herself face first towards the ground and spread her wings, catching the air once again. Trees are stupid. At least I didn¡¯t hit the ground this time.

    She coasted along. The inner city seemed much busier than the outskirts she was used to. Though the park seemed deserted, every street seemed to have people walking along it at any point. Between two skyscrapers, she caught a whiff of something that made her mouth water. That kind of smells like the burgers. Where is that. She followed her nose to the back of a butcher shop, but flashing lights between her and her target made her stop.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Around the corner, two cops stood beside a car pulled over on the side. One leaned against the car with a pad of paper in hand, saying something the driver. The light on top of the police car flashed red and blue, lighting up the whole area. She circled, weighing her options. I shouldn''t go near them. If they spot me they might shoot me. But the food smells good. They¡¯re over here. The food is over there. I should be fine.

    She coasted over the traffic stop and maneuvered through the nearby buildings, making sure to keep her wings from brushing up against the walls. A trash bag laying against the wall behind the butcher shop caught her eye immediately. There! It smelled better than anything she¡¯d ever come across.

    Olivia stopped when she overheard the police talking.

    ¡°You alright?¡± asked one police officer, the same one who¡¯d spoken with the driver.

    ¡°I thought I saw something fly by,¡± his partner replied, his voice far deeper. ¡°Something big.¡± What? Me?

    ¡°The feral?¡±

    ¡°Maybe.¡±

    In the brief pause that followed, Olivia scrambled away from the trash bag, food forgotten. Oh no.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s just the two of us. We¡¯re not wandering after it alone. Call it in.¡±

    A car door opened, and Olivia heard, ¡°Dispatch, we may have spotted the feral, please advise.¡±

    She took flight, bolting directly away from the cops. She looked over her shoulder a minute later. Sirens and flashing lights swarmed the area where she¡¯d been. OK, that¡¯s bad. I¡¯m not going anywhere near the police ever again. Darn it, they looked up. People never look up before. With Skulker¡¯s explanation of how he¡¯d tracked her echoing in her ears, she circled in a wide arc around her apartment building, checking the streets for anyone who might have been following her. Only when the coast was clear did she land on the roof and head back to her apartment, the sun just beginning to rise on the horizon.

    Her stomach convulsed as she headed down the steps. Her feet slipped, and she tumbled down the last pair of stairs Something burned the back of her throat. She spat to the side, willing her stomach to calm down. I needed that food. She struggled back to her feet and staggered the rest of the way to her couch.

    ***

    Olivia woke the next evening to yet another knock on her door. ¡°Hey! You ready?¡± called out a familiar, rapid voice. She cracked her eyes open and tumbled off the couch, ignoring the pain in her gut.

    She opened the door to find a masked Skulker standing just outside, this time with the rifle slung over his shoulder. He looked up at her and said, ¡°Wow, you OK? You look like shit.¡±

    I shouldn¡¯t bother him. ¡°I¡¯m OK. Just hungry,¡± she replied.

    He gazed up at her for a moment. ¡°Let¡¯s grab somethin¡¯ to eat first. We got some time. You got any preference?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Um, burgers?¡± Those smell good.

    ¡°Great! Follow me.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t have any money,¡± she said, eyes fixed on the floor.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Come on.¡±

    Below her, Skulker teleported from rooftop to rooftop. It was strange to watch. One moment he was there, and the next he was simply gone. She followed him to a fast food restaurant, with its lights still on even at the late hour. She stopped on top of a short, squat building with a sign out front that read ¡°Tax Law Firm¡± and waited as he went in. In a moment, he returned with a paper bag and handed her a fresh cheeseburger.

    He had just sat down when his head whipped towards her. ¡°God damn. Was that all in one bite?¡± he asked.

    She looked down at the remaining half of a burger in her hands, wrapping paper in shreds around her claws. ¡°Maybe.¡± I wasn¡¯t paying attention.

    ¡°What have you been eatin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Just stuff. Stuff that I find.¡±

    ¡°Stuff,¡± he repeated. ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll get a bigger one next time.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing.¡± Once he¡¯d finished, they headed towards the mountains. He brought them to a stop ten minutes later.

    He pointed ahead. ¡°This place been on my radar for a bit,¡± he said. ¡°Never could figure out an easy way in on my own, but with the two of us this should be doable.¡±

    A pair of men patrolled outside the rundown warehouse in front of them. They had no guns visible at first sight, until Olivia checked their belts and noticed strange gun shaped bulges at their hips or backsides. On the roof stood a man smoking a cigarette, a long rifle hidden behind the edge. They all have guns. What am I supposed to do?

    ¡°I have a question,¡± she said as she and Skulker observed from a few buildings away.

    ¡°You don¡¯t gotta ask my permission. What?¡± he replied.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. Why me? What if I¡¯m not good at this?¡±

    ¡°You got claws, wings, an¡¯ are built like a tank,¡± he pointed out, pointing to her hands, wings, and chest in turn. ¡°You¡¯ll do fine. See those guys? They¡¯re part of Sanchez¡¯s gang. Now, Sanchez is a problem we¡¯re gonna get to later, but the immediate problem is his guys are organized an¡¯ well equipped. Never seen anythin¡¯ like it before. My money is on outside help. From who, got no fuckin¡¯ clue. Mexican Emperor springs to mind though, he¡¯s been too quiet lately.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, what emperor?¡± asked Olivia. Did I hear that right?

    ¡°The Mexican one. Or Aztec, whatever. Who else?¡±

    She blinked, thoroughly confused. ¡°What was that about Aztec? I don¡¯t think I know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°Cuauht¨¦moc. The immortal god emperor of the Aztecs, sovereign of Mexico, an¡¯ blah, blah, blah. We¡¯ve had, like, three fuckin¡¯ wars with him,¡± he stated, as if it were basic knowledge. ¡°What did you think they had?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. A president?¡± I¡¯ve never thought about governments before. That seems right.

    ¡°No. We got a president. They got an emperor. He¡¯s a dick.¡±

    She hung her head and shrugged. ¡°Sure, why not?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡±

    ¡°Is he really a god?¡± she asked.

    Skulker shrugged. ¡°Dunno. He¡¯s been around for hundreds of years or somethin¡¯. He can¡¯t be everywhere at once, though. But we¡¯re gettin¡¯ off track. The dicks in front of us kidnapped a kid, ten years old, for ransom.¡±

    He pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture. A ten year old blond boy with a bowl cut grinned on the screen. He was missing a front tooth.

    ¡°This kid might be in there, might not. If he ain¡¯t, well one of the guys in there might know somethin¡¯ important. An¡¯ if they don¡¯t, they can tell us about somone who does. Make sense?¡±

    ¡°I think so.¡±

    ¡°Problem is, they¡¯ve been keepin¡¯ everythin¡¯ real¡­¡± Skulker trailed off, looking off into the distance.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No, tryin¡¯ to think of the word,¡± he replied. ¡°Compartmentalized! That¡¯s it! They¡¯ve each got their own little unit, an¡¯ they don¡¯t know too much about what goes on outside of it, besides broad strokes that anyone would know. They get paid well, though.¡±

    ¡°So what are we going to do?¡± she asked.

    ¡°See that guy on the roof?¡±

    She nodded.

    ¡°Flatten him. Keep him from spottin¡¯ me too early when I go up. I¡¯ll take care of the two other guys. Once we get inside, I¡¯ll lead the way, do any talkin¡¯ if we need it. You just watch my back.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡±

 8: Ram

    Chapter 8: Ram

    Olivia and Skulker stood atop a building overlooking their target. A handful of streetlights below them flickered, the rest broken and dark. A half moon did more to illuminate the area. No one walked the abandoned streets, save for the two men in front of the old brick warehouse, guns hidden from casual observation. A third man stood atop the warehouse roof, lit cigarette dangling from his lips.

    Skulker nudged her with an elbow. ¡°Get goin¡¯,¡± he prompted her. Oh, we¡¯re starting this now?

    Olivia spread her wings and leapt off the side of the building. What did Skulker say to do? ¡°Flatten him?¡± So just hit him? I think I did that to a guy before. She climbed higher into the air, than tucked her wings and dove. Her speed built up, momentum aimed at the man on the roof. The wind rushed past her face, sending her hair whipping around.

    Learning from her previous attempt, she tucked her head and lead with her shoulder, colliding with the man¡¯s chest. With a strangled cry, he crumpled. She rolled with the landing, climbing to her feet the moment she came to a stop. The man let out a groan, clutching his chest. OK, flattened. Is Skulker OK?

    The commotion from Olivia¡¯s entrance hadn¡¯t gone unnoticed. As she shook off the dust from herself, one of the men below called out, ¡°You alright up there?¡±

    Movement caught her eye in the night. Skulker, pistol drawn, emerged from an alleyway. He teleported across the streets while the two men below were busy craning their necks to see what was happening on the roof. Olivia jumped back as two, then four shots rang out into the night.

    Scraping noises caught her attention. The man behind her struggled upright. She shied away. Wait, what do I do now? His fist glanced off her shoulder. Before she could react, another drove into her stomach. They both stared at each other for a split second. She shoved him away, sending him flying. His head smacked into the roof, and he lay still. Oh, he didn¡¯t really hurt me. Her ears still rang with the sound of gunshots.

    ¡°Come on down,¡± called out Skulker.

    She glided down, averting her eyes from the dead men and the blood on the ground. Skulker jostled the doorknob of front door to the warehouse.

    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ locked,¡± he grumbled. He gave the metal door a sharp kick. ¡°I¡¯ll see if one of these guys has the key.¡±

    Should I kick it too? It didn¡¯t work for Skulker. Maybe a second will work. Wobbling, she placed her foot on the door and shoved. It didn¡¯t budge, though something metal creaked.

    ¡°If you¡¯re gonna do that don¡¯t just nudge it. Put force behind it,¡± said Skulker, hand rifling through the pockets of one of the men he¡¯d killed.

    Oh, OK. She took a deep breath, raised her leg up, and shoved it forward as hard as she could. The claws of her feet punched into the metal. The hinges shrieked and gave way, the door slamming into the ground. She caught herself on the door frame before she could topple over, foot still stuck into the door. With a few shakes, she pulled her foot free.

    She spun around to see Skulker staring at the scene. ¡°Holy shit. Nice. Let¡¯s get in there.¡±

    He led the way into the warehouse, jumping over the bent and broken door. She followed after him, into a cramped and grimy hallway. In a split second, her eyes adjusted to the unlit interior. Her wings smacked against the walls as they walked. Olivia tried to keep her footsteps light, imitating Skulker, though she kept wobbling on her feet and bumping into the walls.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t quiet, they know we¡¯re here,¡± murmured Skulker. ¡°Keep your eyes open.¡± He stopped them at an office, its window covered over. A second lay on the opposite end of the hall. ¡°Watch the hall,¡± Skulker whispered.

    She nodded, attention split between Skulker and anything down the hallway. It definitely smells like people here. But all I can hear is ringing. With one shoulder pressed against the wall, he twisted the doorknob, pistol at the ready. In a flash, he shoved it all the way open and teleported in. Olivia waited, breath caught in her lungs, as she listened to Skulker¡¯s footsteps inside.

    Finally, he poked his head out and said, ¡°Empty. Try the other one.¡± He nodded towards the door on the opposite side of the hallway.

    ¡°It¡¯s locked,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Kick it.¡±

    She took a deep breath and steadied herself. This time she pushed forward, letting her momentum carry her into the room. She stumbled over the broken door and into what was once an office. Haphazard crates of ammo covered the desk in the center of the room, and several coats covered the back of the office chair behind it.

    Before she could free her foot from the door, a sharp intake of breath and a metallic click caught her ears. Shots rang out. Olivia threw herself to the side, a sudden pain lancing through her ribs. Skulker teleported in over her and fired. Silence fell over the room as a body hit the ground.

    ¡°That was fast,¡± grumbled Skulker as he cast a look at Olivia over his shoulder. He stiffened. ¡°Oh shit, you¡¯re still alive! You OK?¡±

    She pressed a palm to her ear, failing to deaden the ringing sound. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I think.¡± She rubbed a bruise on her ribs. That guy didn¡¯t get close. But I¡¯m not bleeding. How?

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Whoa,¡± said Skulker, pointing to her ragged shirt. ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Oh, um,¡± she mumbled. With a claw, she hooked the hem of her shirt up and revealed a massive deep red welt nearly the half size of her palm underneath.

    ¡°Wait, put it back,¡± he said, gesturing to her shirt. Once she let it fall, he leaned in and said, ¡°Yeah, a fuckin¡¯ bullet left that. You really OK?¡±

    She paused, feeling no other pain beyond the bruise and her ears. ¡°I think so.¡±

    ¡°That guy was packin¡¯ a nasty lookin rifle an¡¯ he just give you a bruise. An¡¯ you can rip steel with your hands.¡±

    ¡°Is that weird?¡±

    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ hardcore is what it is. Talkin¡¯ with you is the best decision I ever made.¡± He offered her a hand and threw his entire weight into hauling her to her feet. ¡°We¡¯ve wasted too much time, gotta move quick now.¡±

    She trailed after him, knees weak. What am I doing here? That guy had a gun. He shot me. What am I doing? The ceiling rose, though the walls remained only slightly higher than Olivia¡¯s wings. The carpeting cut off, replaced by concrete. Dim fluorescent lights dangling from metal roof supports flickered ahead. They turned a corner, and found half a dozen men in a semicircle around them, immediately opening fire.

    Skulker pulled Olivia back behind a wall as gunfire ripped through the air where they¡¯d stood just a moment before. Two bullets grazed her partially outstretched wing.

    ¡°Keep ¡®em busy!¡± he shouted, teleporting off and leaving her alone against half a dozen armed men.

    What? How? Why? Olivia flinched as bullets punched through the thin drywall, a mere foot from where she stood. She let out a stifled shriek and threw herself to the ground. More bullets shot above her, shredding the wall.

    ¡°I think we got it!¡± called out one of the gunmen as the firing ceased. Heavy footsteps approached, the fumes of gunpowder wafting through the air.

    Olivia stared in horror as a pair of shadows approached in the door frame she¡¯d just dove away from. With rifles at the ready, two men, one broad shouldered and dark haired, the other balding, burst in and swivel towards her. Familiar pistol shots rang out. The men froze for a split second, half turning back towards the others.

    They¡¯re going to shoot him. They¡¯re going to shoot me. She forced herself to her feet and rushed towards the two. The nearest one, the broad shouldered one, managed to react, firing directly into Olivia¡¯s chest. Her momentum carried her into him, slamming him into the brick wall behind him. Out of instinct, she whipped her tail around, catching the balding man in the hip.

    More shots came from the warehouse. Go away! She let out a primal scream and grabbed the broad shouldered man by the collar and slammed him into the wall once more. He slumped to the floor, unmoving and bleeding from the shoulder. She turned around to find the balding man had fallen to the floor. One hand clutched his hip, the other reached for the rifle he¡¯d lost. No. She stomped down on his arm, which snapped with a sickening crack. He screamed and rolled over as she let him go, turning her attention to the warehouse beyond.

    Skulker teleported behind a wall of shelves, keeping only inches ahead of the rifle fire. One of the gunmen was down, the remaining three oblivious to Olivia¡¯s entrance. Leave him alone. She charged into the back of the closest one, raking her claws down his back. He stumbled forward, rifle still in hand. With a wild cry, he spun and swung his rifle like a club at her, catching her arm, just as her other arm came down for a second swipe. She caught him in the shoulder, sending him crumpling to the ground.

    Someone approached from behind, and Olivia spun, claws aimed for the gut. She froze when she caught sight for a grey grinning mask. Silence reigned for a moment, with only the sound of their heavy breathing as she and Skulker stared at each other.

    He flashed her a thumbs up. ¡°God damn, no mercy for the weak. Let¡¯s have a look around.¡±

    Olivia half collapsed against a wall, chest aching and lungs burning. Skulker had shot the other two gunmen, their bodies sprawled out on the concrete floor. What just happened? She looked down at her bloody claws. I think I hurt people. She wiped them off on her pants as best she could. Oh god. What am I doing? Am I supposed to be looking for something?

    Olivia looked over the main room of the warehouse, now able to take her time without people shooting at her. A dull grey pickup truck was parked beside one of the garage doors in the very back. The gang had shoved various bits of furniture into the corner, making room for shelves upon shelves of ammunition. Skulker flipped open one of the crates near where they had first entered. Bits of drywall and bullet shrapnel slid off the top of the crate as he tossed it aside.

    ¡°They got so many goddamn guns. Want one?¡± She craned her neck, looking over his shoulder at the dozen sleek black rifles, identical to the ones the gang members had used not more than two minutes ago.

    ¡°No thank you,¡± she replied with a shake of her head. They¡¯re so loud.

    He shrugged and moved on to the next crate. ¡°Damn it, why do these guys always got real fuckin¡¯ nice ones? Where are they gettin¡¯ these?¡±

    Olivia moved on to a desk beside the truck, opening an empty drawer. What am I looking for? She glanced at Skulker, now moving from body to body on the floor. He seems to know. I¡¯ll look stupid if I ask. I guess I¡¯ll know if I see anything weird.

    ¡°Here we go.¡± Skulker lifted the head of the man she¡¯d clawed and twisted it so he faced Olivia. The man slowly breathed through a crooked nose. Long dirty blond hair partially obscured his face. ¡°This fuckin¡¯ guy. I¡¯ve seen him before. Works for one of Sanchez¡¯s lieutenants. Solid Tod, I think.¡±

    ¡°Solid Tod?¡± Olivia repeated. What does that even mean?

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me. He¡¯s got a power an¡¯ good reputation, though. I think this guy might be up to answerin¡¯ a few questions for us. Well, me, you look beat.¡± Olivia just stared back, too tired to form a proper question. He reached up and patted her shoulder. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go see what we missed back there.¡±

    Skulker dragged the man back to the entrance. They stopped to search where Olivia took a bullet to the ribs. They continued their pattern, Skulker combing through the handful of ammunition boxes, while Olivia stood around and tried to look helpful.

    Skulker began laughing as he reached the dead man Olivia had spent her whole time avoiding looking at. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, eyes still averted.

    He popped the magazine out of the dead man¡¯s rifle and showed her the top bullet. ¡°He fuckin¡¯ shot you with a 300. That¡¯s a big, mean bullet.¡±

    ¡°Is that bad?¡± What does that number mean?

    ¡°Most rifles are somewhere around 200. I ain¡¯t great with numbers but I think the 300 is supposed to make you around fifty percent more dead.¡± He tossed the magazine to the floor. ¡°Let¡¯s get outta here.¡±

    Sirens in the distance approached as they finally exited the warehouse. ¡°You hear ¡®em too?¡± he asked. She pulled a sweaty lock of hair out of her face and nodded. ¡°Yeah, we don¡¯t wanna stick around. Great job! This took a bit longer than I thought it would,¡± said Skulker. ¡°But we gotta move quick if we¡¯re gonna find this kid. I¡¯ll chat with this guy an¡¯ figure out where to go next. First thing tomorrow night work?¡±

    She stared. Is that normal? Just getting shot at and hurting people? But what will he do if I say no? And I guess we¡¯re going to help find a kid. ¡°I guess,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Perfect. Go on, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± She took flight as the weak light of the morning sun began to shine over the horizon, leaving Skulker with a battered and unconscious man in his grips.

 9: Miyahuatl

    Chapter 9: Miyahuatl

    The hum of a small plane engine filled Miyahuatl¡¯s ears, the heavy canvas sack covering her head doing little to deaden the noise. A bout of turbulence shook the plane, sending her bouncing on the tiny bench she perched on. She reached out with her bound hands, steadying herself on a metal crate beside her. It¡¯s been hours, she thought with resigned numbness. We have to land sometime. They¡¯re not going to kill me. They¡¯ve had months. Or maybe we¡¯re over the ocean, and they¡¯re going to shoot me and dump me in the middle of nowhere.

    She shivered in her threadbare clothes, the plane barely heated for its only living passenger. The stubble on her head didn¡¯t help, exposing the surgical scars across her skull to the elements. The ones across her spine didn¡¯t feel much better. She had no idea what the day was, though it felt like months had passed since she¡¯d been free.

    In the weeks leading up to Christmas, when Arizona didn¡¯t resemble the surface of the sun, Miya ducked out of the house to avoid her family and wandered off to a nearby convenience store. Grandmother bitched at her for not taking the heat ¡°with stoicism befitting Aztec blood,¡± though neither of them had ever set foot in Mexico. She¡¯d kept her magic quiet, not wanting an earful about whatever archaic tradition demanded of her. Dozens of schools for mages were scattered around the country, all too expensive for her to even think about, so she settled for the next best thing.

    Shoplifting saved enough money for books from Don¡¯s shop. Trial and error into the arcane nearly killed her, but the books and amulets from the Italian man made more sense than eleven years of public school education ever had. With the camera of the convenience store blocked by the shelf, she stuffed plastic sunglasses into her oversized pockets.

    Keeping her expression neutral, she headed out to find a deserted front counter. For fuck''s sake. She spun around, expecting the employee to ambush her. Instead, dull green and wrinkly tentacles tore open roof above her. A tall, thin man, tentacles emanating from beneath his skin, dove on her. One grabbed her foot as she tried to run, her head hit the ground, and the world went black.

    She awoke some indeterminate time later strapped to a hospital bed, a handful of humanoid robots preparing her for surgery. She only met a handful of humans in the windowless facility, though she caught one name: Overlord. Once stable, they started testing their clumsy control of her power. She imagined having a stroke was similar to the experience of someone forcibly extracting an otherworldly force using her brain as the conduit.

    The cold, firm hand of a robot gripped her upper arm, breaking her train of thought. It hauled her out of the plane, and her feet hit dirt. They stood a few paces away from the plane for a couple minutes, moon and star light barely filtering through the bag over Miya¡¯s head. Over the idling engines of at least two cars, she could hear movement. Not only precise, measured movement from robots, but the breath and grumbling from other humans as well. Her heart rate picked up. Now what? Who are these guys?

    ¡°Got it,¡± said a human voice, the first she¡¯d heard in nearly a week since Dr. Orange wished her luck in her future endeavors as robots strapped her to a gurney and carted her off.

    The robot''s grip on her arm released, replaced by one of flesh and blood. She stumbled over a clump of earth she couldn¡¯t see as a man dragged her towards one of the cars. After a long drive over a miserable dirt road, they reached pavement. Some time later someone finally pulled the bag from her head. She blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden influx of light.

    They drove through what appeared to be a district composed of abandoned buildings, lots of homeless and few lit buildings. Graffiti coated most walls. Where the hell are we? She looked around, and nearly jumped out of her skin as she realized one of the men sitting next to her was a robot. Its head whipped towards her at her sudden motion. It looked identical to the dozens she¡¯d seen patrolling the halls of the labs. Shaped like the average human, with burnished steel instead of anything resembling skin. It wore clothes, a utilitarian pair of jeans and a dark jacket. I guess a naked robot would stick out. A screaming face set in steel met her gaze, then swiveled back to the front, where two humans sat in the front of the car. The one in the passenger seat took a nervous look over his shoulder before swiftly returning his attention to the road.

    They pulled into the garage in the back of what appeared to be an office building. The sign near the roof read Lehman Construction. They marched her into an elevator to the top floor, three other waiting men unloading the second car that had been at the landing site with Miya.

    She heard talking as the four approached partially opened double doors at the end of the hallway. The robot ushered her in, the two men who¡¯d driven them waiting outside. A massive desk dominated the center of the well lit room. The man behind it took in the arrivals, one hand stroking his full, well groomed black beard. A scar ran across his forehead, aged nearly to the point of invisibility. Well muscled, he dominated his high backed chair, a suit jacket thrown over the back of it. Thick blinds covered the floor to ceiling windows behind him.

    The man he spoke with was rail thin and taller than anyone she¡¯d met. Miya, just shy of five feet, craned her neck as far as she could to see his face. It¡¯s him. Her breath caught in her throat as she jumped back, though the robot inexorably shoved her forward and into the room beside the man who¡¯d kidnapped her however many months ago. Now that she saw him up close, the man had next to no body hair, save for his eyebrows and eyelashes. He had almost no body fat, and his skin had no tattoos, or freckles, or blemishes of any kind.

    ¡°Another delivery will be made next month,¡± said the kidnapper.

    ¡°Sure. Same place?¡± asked the man behind the desk.

    ¡°No, we¡¯ll be moving it again. We¡¯ll let you know ahead of time. I believe fifty handguns will be more than enough to compensate your crew for the trouble.¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Music to my ears.¡± The man behind the desk let out a quick, sharp whistle. The double doors opened once more, and a man came in with a heavy black leather briefcase and presented it to the mercenary. ¡°Your pay, as agreed upon.¡±

    ¡°One more matter, Sanchez,¡± said the kidnapper, his voice without inflection. He swept a hand towards Miya. Sanchez turned towards her, curiosity returning once more. ¡°This is a defective prototype. We offer her as a bonus, free of charge.¡±

    Sanchez paused, ¡°She ain¡¯t a robot?¡±

    ¡°No, flesh and blood,¡± replied the kidnapper. Despite your best efforts. Miya stood up a little straighter as he placed a familiar grey box on the desk.

    Sanchez leaned back in his seat, considering. ¡°Defective prototype. What can she do?¡± he asked.

    ¡°She is a mage of not inconsiderable power,¡± said the kidnapper. ¡°This power would be yours to control and wield as you see fit, through the controller before you. I¡¯m told the control is imperfect, and the head of the project would like to his extend his apologies for this. As I said, defective.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± He asked Miya, ¡°Aztec, huh? Can you speak English?¡±

    The mercenary turned towards her. ¡°Yes,¡± she said, voice hoarse from disuse. I guess I should be happy the scientists didn¡¯t cut my tongue out when I was screaming at them.

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± said Sanchez. ¡°Could always use a good mage. Can I assume there are instructions,¡± he added, eyeing the controller and its myriad buttons.

    ¡°Of course. They¡¯re with the rifles.¡±

    ¡°Knew I¡¯d say yes, didn¡¯t you,¡± Sanchez grumbled. The mercenary simply stood there, with neither a smile nor a frown. ¡°Well, pleasure doing business with you. Tell Overlord the construction crew should be finished up in the next couple days.¡±

    The two men shook hands, and the kidnapping mercenary left Miya with Sanchez. No more experiments? Sanchez headed towards a door on the right. ¡°Come here,¡± he said with a wave of his hand, the other with her remote control. With no other choice, Miya followed.

    ¡°Where are you from?¡± he asked over his shoulder.

    ¡°Arizona,¡± she replied. She coughed a couple times to clear her throat. ¡°A little town south of Phoenix. What month is it?¡± she asked.

    He cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Mid April.¡± Half a year. I lost half a year of my life. She slowed to a stop, eyes fixed on a point a thousand yards away. Sanchez gave her an awkward, hesitant pat on the shoulder, the most human gesture she¡¯d received for six months. ¡°Come on.¡±

    The large conference room he led them into stretched on before her, nearly as large as his office. A massive round table with eight chairs stood in the center, with a collection of alcohol and glasses in the center. A door opened on the opposite end of the room, and people began trickling in.

    Sanchez pointed to a couple of chairs shoved in the corner of the room. ¡°Sit there, keep quiet. We¡¯ll figure out what to do with you.¡±

    When everyone settled, six of the eight chairs were filled. Miya cast a weary glance at the eclectic bunch. A man build like a shithouse brick caused his chosen chair to creak under his weight as he sat, sunglasses hooked onto his collar. The black man who entered last with a pronounced limp gave a friendly nod to Sanchez. A few shot curious looks at the woman with dyed blond hair to the right Sanchez, though the overwhelming majority were in Miya¡¯s direction.

    ¡°Tod?¡± began Sanchez to the man with sunglasses. ¡°I believe you have a bit of important news for us.¡±

    ¡°More bad news, Boss,¡± said the solid looking man. ¡°The warehouse on 34th got hit by a vigilante. Cops swarmed the place. We lost most everything.¡±

    ¡°Purifier?¡± asked Sanchez.

    ¡°Nah, we haven¡¯t seen that bastard for months,¡± replied Tod.

    ¡°Guardsman?¡± asked the woman, the only other in the room besides Miya.

    ¡°No, fucking let me finish.¡±

    ¡°Tod,¡± warned Sanchez.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he grumbled to the woman. ¡°No, this was the guy with the smiley face. Skulker, that¡¯s it. Charles and Tammy got out before the cops showed. They said there was a feral with him.¡±

    Miya looked up from the patch of carpet she stared at. There¡¯s a feral here? Where is here, anyways?

    ¡°A feral?¡± asked a mustachioed man with a cigar dangling from his lips.

    ¡°That¡¯s what they said,¡± replied Tod. ¡°Tammy¡¯s got a good head on her shoulders, she insisted.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the first time,¡± added Sanchez. ¡°This vigilante¡¯s got a pet feral with him, we need him dead."

    ¡°They said it had glowing eyes like a demon.¡±

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re dumbasses. Break out some of the heavier firepower, that¡¯ll kill it real quick. Tod, get some guys on finding these two. Talk with our rat, MHU has got to be looking for this feral too. Level whatever rock they¡¯re hiding under before they can so much as sneeze in our direction again. I want you with them, make sure the thing is dead.¡±

    ¡°You got it,¡± replied Tod.

    ¡°We just received, from our benefactor, two crates of weapons. Take your pick, Tod. We also got her,¡± he said, pointing to Miya in the corner. He beckoned her to the table beside her, though she got no chair. ¡°A mage. She¡¯s got a bunch of control implants in her. She does what we tell her or she dies.¡±

    ¡°So we own a human,¡± said the black man sitting two seats from Sanchez¡¯s right hand.

    ¡°Pretty much.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fucked up.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a mage, Omar¡± repeated Sanchez.

    The general murmur died down. Here it comes.

    ¡°What kind?¡± asked the woman.

    ¡°Well?¡± Sanchez prompted her.

    ¡°Bones,¡± said Miya. She reached for magic in vain, whatever implant blocking her free access to her power still the one to work consistently.

    ¡°Show us.¡±

    ¡°You need to push one of the button on there,¡± she replied.

    ¡°One of these kills you, doesn¡¯t it?¡± asked Sanchez with a frown.

    ¡°Yeah, the covered one,¡± Miya replied, recalling Dr. Orange¡¯s cheerful explanation of the iron blades millimeters from severing her spine.

    ¡°And this one?¡±

    Her bleary, sleep deprived eyes examined the controller for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she finally said with a shrug. If you¡¯re going to kill me, just kill me.

    He shot her a dangerous look, than returned his attention to his council. ¡°I¡¯ll look over the manual later. I¡¯m inclined to believe Overlord.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t like this,¡± said Omar.

    ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± demanded Sanchez, wheeling on him. ¡°Tell Overlord no? Is that what you want me to do? Get us all killed? I don¡¯t know what else to do with her.¡±

    ¡°She can¡¯t be more than eighty pounds,¡± said Tod. ¡°We can¡¯t just throw her in a fight, magic or not. That feral will rip her up before she gets any magic off.¡±

    ¡°You said she¡¯s got implants. Get those out, hire her,¡± suggested Omar. Can you do that?

    ¡°My cousin just had an appendectomy, it set him back ten thousand after insurance,¡± said the woman. ¡°Getting whatever those implants are out will cost so much damn money. Plus we¡¯d need to find a quiet doctor, and the equipment, because if the doctor recognizes Overlord¡¯s fingerprints and talks we¡¯ll be drowning in Feds.¡± Never mind. It¡¯s shit on Miya day after all, just like every other day.

    ¡°Would Overlord even want us digging his toys out of her?¡± pointed out the final man at the table, quiet until then. He drummed his fingers against the table.

    ¡°If Overlord didn¡¯t want us to know about it, he wouldn¡¯t give it to us. Nothing so far can be traced back to him,¡± said Sanchez.

    ¡°Except for us,¡± said Omar.

    ¡°Believe me, I know,¡± replied Sanchez, darkly. With no other complaints or suggestions forthcoming, he turned to Miya and said, ¡°If you do right by us, we¡¯ll do right by you. Work with us and we¡¯ll see if we can get those metal bits out of you, but we can¡¯t afford to do this out of the goodness of our hearts. Omar will be in charge of that, since he seems to have taken an interest.¡± He shot a look at Omar, who nodded. ¡°Do you accept?¡±

    She looked him in the eye. ¡°I don¡¯t have many options, do I?¡±

 10: Q & A

    Chapter 10: Q & A

    Olivia coasted through the air, ignoring the aching bruises on her chest from last night. The cool night air helped to clear her head and let her focus on something beyond the faint ringing in her ears that hadn¡¯t dissipated with time. I hope those guys I hit are OK. After helping Skulker, she found herself with nothing to do but fly, sleep, and wait. There should be something I¡¯m doing, right? I can¡¯t just do this forever. Maybe when I figure out who I really am, than I can figure something out.

    A familiar scent caught her attention as she approached her apartment building. She circled around a few times, catching sight of Ben walking the streets below in his normal clothes, mask nowhere to be seen. He waved up at her after she swooped down, then pointed to her building. A few minutes, later, they met in her apartment.

    He snapped and pointed a finger at her the moment he barged in after her. ¡°Hey! Quick question, your organs feel alright?¡± he asked rapid fire, just on the edge of comprehensibility.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± she asked in bewilderment, desperately searching for some sort of context clue to make sense of his question.

    ¡°Your insides, do they feel bad?¡±

    She stared. I mean, my bruises hurt, but that¡¯s just my skin. ¡°No. I hope not.¡±

    ¡°Great! Just makin¡¯ sure. I realized yesterday that gettin¡¯ shot might lead to internal bleedin¡¯. Sounds like you''re fine, though,¡± he said with a grin.

    He strolled through her apartment, one hand tapping against his thigh in some unheard rhythm. He tried a light switch, getting no response from the dark bulb above him. Should I do something? She spotted her box of donuts on the kitchen counter. Food. Food is good. Maybe I can offer him some. Oh, wait, it¡¯s empty. Say something.

    ¡°What would happen if I did have internal bleeding?¡± she asked. That doesn¡¯t sound that bad. Blood is supposed to be inside anyways, right?

    He shrugged and said, ¡°I¡¯d probably wind up draggin¡¯ you to a hospital.¡±

    ¡°I thought I was supposed to stay away from people.¡±

    ¡°Whatever would happen would be better than dyin¡¯ slowly on the floor.¡± Oh, I guess it is bad.

    ¡°Are those drapes?¡± he asked, pointing to her makeshift bed on the couch.

    ¡°Yes.¡± I think that¡¯s weird, though. ¡°They¡¯re warmer than nothing,¡± she added defensively.

    He gave her apartment another look, eyebrow raised. ¡°You sure you wanna do this?¡±

    "This?" We''re just standing here.

    "This whole vigilante thing," he clarified.

    Ohhh. I don¡¯t know. Everyone has a gun. But they¡¯re bad, right? Ben is alone otherwise. And they kidnapped someone. And if I say no, maybe Ben wont help me. She nodded. ¡°Yes. But have you figured out who I am? Or figure out how to figure out?¡± Did I say that right?

    ¡°Yeah!¡± he said, leaning on the wall between the living room and the kitchen. Olivia sat on the couch, tossing the apparently offensive drapes off the side to make room for her tail.

    ¡°I have a plan,¡± he continued. ¡°That¡¯s actually what I was doin¡¯ before you flew over. This is what I¡¯m thinkin¡¯. This is a skeevy area, but there¡¯s a couple shops in the area. I¡¯m willin¡¯ to bet at least some have got security cameras. We take a look, see if they picked anythin¡¯ suspicious up. Now before you say yes, this is gonna require breakin¡¯ an¡¯ enterin¡¯. We ain¡¯t gonna steal anythin¡¯, but this is super not legal.¡±

    If he¡¯s willing, I guess it¡¯s alright. ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°For this to work though, I need to know when you woke up. Do you know?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied with a shake of her head, getting a clump of hair in her way.

    ¡°You were outside, right?¡± He leaned forward, eyes locked with hers. ¡°Where was the sun? Was it still up?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I think it was just setting.¡± Is that right? Olivia frowned, questioning her own memories. "Wait, how did I see the sun during the rain?"

    "Storms here can be real short an'' strong, you mighta caught the tail end of one." He pulled out his phone. ¡°No fuckin way,¡± he said with a grin. ¡°You can fuckin¡¯ search when sunset an¡¯ sunrise were for any day. OK, some time around nine PM. That gives us a specific time to work with when we¡¯re goin¡¯ through the video records. This ain¡¯t a guarantee, keep that in mind, but it¡¯s a start.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think we¡¯ll find something?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ someone dumped you there. You didn¡¯t have anythin¡¯. That seems like it¡¯d be on purpose,¡± he said.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t have any clothes,¡± she mumbled, eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of her.

    ¡°That ain¡¯t super surprisin¡¯. There ain¡¯t many seven foot chicks in the world. What is surprisin¡¯ is you haven¡¯t mentioned anythin¡¯ near you. No torn clothes, no jewelry or bags nearby. It¡¯s a rare day when someone walks down the street buck naked. Someone took all that off you after you turned.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I was there.¡±

    ¡°Not long if no one noticed you. Remember, the first time anyone knew you existed was when we ran into each other. An¡¯ you¡¯re pretty tough. Remember gettin¡¯ shot? I bet you were up an¡¯ runnin¡¯ in no time.¡±

    I wasn¡¯t really up. I was super scared. She didn¡¯t bother to correct him, instead asking, ¡°So when are we going to do that?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow. If tonight goes well. Don¡¯t want to just break in an¡¯ leave evidence of us everywhere. Need to plan that out a bit.¡±

    ¡°What are we doing tonight. Did you find something about the missing kid?¡±

    ¡°I did, but we got time. They¡¯re movin¡¯ someone early mornin¡¯¡± He looked over her apartment, smile wavering. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, you could come over to my place. It¡¯s smaller, but it¡¯s got runnin¡¯ water, electricity, an¡¯ a fridge with real food.¡±

    Food? ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°Wow, that didn¡¯t take much convincin¡¯.¡± Ben pushed off the wall and headed for the door. ¡°I¡¯m parked one street over. Unless you wanna hoof it for miles.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± I¡¯ve never been in a car before. ¡°I guess that¡¯s OK,¡± she said, following after him. What¡¯s wrong with flying though? Is it too far?

    True to his word, his car was only one street over, parked next to a long broken parking meter. Lights flashed on an old forest green car that had seen better days. Olivia eyed the small door opposite of where Ben entered. Wing tip first, she angled herself in, stopping halfway when she felt Ben¡¯s hand tap on her arm.

    ¡°Maybe try the back,¡± he said, leaning around her wing to look at her with a grin. ¡°Can¡¯t drive with this in my face.¡± Sorry.

    She wedged herself in the back, wings splayed to either side, head tucked nearly into her chest, and tail wrapped around her waist. Out from speakers in the front blasted a horrible noise which took her a moment to recognize as music. Oh god, it¡¯s terrible. And angry. Why is he listening to this? Why would anyone listen to this?

    To give her something else to hear, she leaned forward and said, ¡°You mentioned a Mexican emperor before.¡± That sounded interesting.

    ¡°Yeah. You still hung up on that? It¡¯s common fuckin¡¯ knowledge. How do you not know that?¡±

    Her shoulders slumped. ¡°Because I¡¯m stupid and don¡¯t know anything,¡± she mumbled.

    He laughed and said, ¡°Welcome to the club.¡±

    ¡°Could you help?¡±

    He cast her a sidelong glance over his shoulder and asked, ¡°With what?¡±

    ¡°You know stuff. I need to know stuff¡±

    ¡°Stuff is a pretty big word. I don¡¯t know all things.¡±

    ¡°No. How about just history?¡± she said, picking a subject at random.

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°I really ain¡¯t the best guy for this,¡± he said with a shake of his head.

    ¡°You know more than me.¡±

    ¡°OK, world history: Ben edition. Someone invented farmin¡¯. People built cities. Egypt, uh, existed. Some goddess popped up in Germany. Then Greeks conquered a bunch of shit. Then Romans conquered a bunch of shit. And Persians conquered a bunch of shit. Not in that order though. Some dude teleported some poor fuckin¡¯ Chinese people into the Mediterranean, an¡¯ that was the Silk Road. Maybe that was earlier, I dunno. Rome collapsed and then knights did their thing. Europe discovered the rest of the world an¡¯ decided they didn¡¯t like it. Except the Glass City, everyone gets along fine with them. They fought everythin¡¯ else, an¡¯ invented factories. An¡¯ kicked off a couple World Wars. Us an¡¯ Russia decided we hated each other. That stopped when aliens crash landed an¡¯ gave us other things to worry about. Overlord tore shit up when everybody was busy with the genocidal aliens. Some nukes were thrown, an¡¯ here we are.¡±

    That¡¯s a lot to process. Maybe too much. ¡°I don¡¯t think that helped.¡±

    Ben threw his hands up in exasperation, sending the car swerving before he regained control of the wheel. ¡°What do you want from me? That was just random bullshit I remember from history class. I spent half of that asleep.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± Smaller questions. ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned gods twice now. Who? What?¡±

    ¡°I did? Oh, yeah. So, the Mother is in smack dab the middle of Europe. She¡¯s spent thousands of years dancin¡¯ naked in the forest or some shit, I dunno. She tried purifyin¡¯ all humans or somethin¡¯, those were those World Wars I mentioned. She lost, an¡¯ she ain¡¯t done much lately, far as I know.¡±

    ¡°So she made a world war on her own?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Two, an¡¯ no, she made friends, an¡¯ then they dragged in their friends. She didn¡¯t tell them about her eugenics. Probably smart of her.¡±

    ¡°OK. The other guy?¡±

    ¡°Right. Cuauht¨¦moc, the Aztec emperor. Or Mexican, same thing. Remember when I said Europe fought everyone? Well, first thing that happened was Spain showed up an¡¯ attacked Mexico outta nowhere. Or was it Portugal? I dunno, I think they had a bunch of succession wars or somethin¡¯. Anyways, he said no.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± You can just tell an invasion no? That works?

    ¡°No, he killed a whole bunch of people. I think the empire had two civil wars after that. Disease killed everyone he knew. He¡¯s immortal, his people ain¡¯t. Thank god.¡±

    ¡°So wait, you¡¯re happy his people can die?¡± That can¡¯t be right.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said.

    Her jaw dropped. ¡°That¡¯s a horrible thing to say.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve fought like three wars with the fucker. If it weren¡¯t for that little fact we¡¯d be gettin¡¯ our hearts ripped out right now. I dunno if this is clear yet, but he ain¡¯t a nice guy.¡±

    ¡°Why hasn¡¯t he taken everything over?¡±

    ¡°Just cuz he¡¯s immortal don¡¯t mean he magically knows how taxes work. Or how to keep his toadies from gettin¡¯ murdered by the locals the second he turns his back.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s had all that time.¡± He said he was immortal, right?

    ¡°You¡¯d think so. But Mexico is held together with tape an¡¯ fear right now, an¡¯ that¡¯s cuz of him.¡±

    ¡°Are there any more gods I should know about?¡±

    ¡°Nope, just the two.¡± Oh, great. Two isn¡¯t so bad. I thought he was going to say there were seven more or something insane.

    ¡°That was a lot of war you just mentioned,¡± she pointed out.

    ¡°Yeah, everyone thinks their superpowers are the best superpowers.¡±

    Olivia shifted in her seat as the conversation lulled. Leaning to the side relieved some of the bend in her neck, though her left wing was shoved against the window.

    ¡°You mentioned a bunch of people being teleported led to the Silk Road. What does any of that mean?¡± she asked. That doesn¡¯t sound like a war.

    ¡°Some Roman dude with powers got the emperor to give him a metric fuckton of drugs to make his powers better. Or was that some British guy? Whatever. He made a portal that connected Rome an¡¯ China. Even after the portal closed, they still tried to trade. I guess that was important. Everyone kept sayin¡¯ it was.¡± Ben finished with a shrug.

    ¡°And the Glass City, what is that?¡± Maybe that will be cooler.

    ¡°A city made of glass.¡±

    Olivia took a moment to bite back a mean retort and said, ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s very helpful.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t fight in the city. Can¡¯t use weapons, long range shit doesn¡¯t work. Someone tried launchin¡¯ a missile, it just swerved away. They set up the League of Nations there. It¡¯s somewhere in Africa, I forget where.¡±

    Olivia received a slapdash lesson in world history through the fifteen minute drive. Despite his protests, Ben seemed happy just talking as fast as possible, no matter the subject matter. The conversation came to a stop once they reached his building. They slipped into his room on the third floor without incident. The building reminded Olivia of her home, dilapidated, in bad repair, and otherwise worse for wear.

    Whatever Olivia expected of Ben, the apartment wasn¡¯t it. The walls were a light grey, adorned only with a mounted tomahawk. There was a couch across from a small TV, hooked up to a cable box on a table. A tiny, clean kitchen was off to the right. To their left were doors to the bedroom and bathroom.

    ¡°Don¡¯t have to just stand there you know,¡± he said, beckoning her further inside. ¡°Go on, grab a bite to eat. I gotta check on somethin¡¯.¡± He teleported off to his bedroom.

    Food. She lumbered over to the fridge in the kitchen, claws catching on the carpet. A delicious scent immediately caught her nose once she opened the door. A barely touched package of sliced ham lay at the bottom. She opened it up and ate the entire thing in two bites. This is his food. I shouldn¡¯t take any more. She tore herself away from the fridge and wandered after Ben.

    As sparse as the living room was, Ben¡¯s bedroom was chaotic. She saw three pistols on the ground in the far corner. Two crowbars, a fire axe, and a sledgehammer leaned against each other in another. A couple movie and videogame posters covered the walls at odd angles, tacked onto with a thick grey tape. The closet was thrown open, clothes clean and dirty spilling out. This seems more like him. She approached the unmade bed next to Ben.

    Do I just sit? She walked in and sat on the edge of his bed, tail dangling off the side. Ben spun in his chair to face her directly and said, ¡°You always seem nervous. You still worryin¡¯ about everythin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I mean, I don¡¯t know what I am. I hurt people when we went into that warehouse. I almost hurt you too, I think.¡±

    He said, ¡°Well, to be fair, I just walked up to you in the middle of a fight, that was a bad call on my part.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but still, I shouldn¡¯t have done that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± then he suddenly leaned over and jabbed her in the eye.

    ¡°Ow, why?¡± she asked, holding a hand over the poked eye. What did I do?

    He considered her with a grin, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. ¡°Interestin¡¯. You see, if you were dumb monster thing, as you seem to think you are, you woulda bit me or attacked or somethin¡¯. Instead, you¡¯re makin¡¯ me feel like I just kicked a puppy. Not a classic monster trait, I¡¯ll tell you that for free. Also, I didn¡¯t getcha too hard, did I?¡±

    She blinked her eye a couple time and removed her hand, her eye was fine. ¡°I¡¯m fine, but please don¡¯t do that again.¡± He smiled and nodded, holding his hands up to as if to say ¡®I¡¯m innocent¡¯. She sighed. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Why did this have to happen? All of it, everything.¡±

    ¡°You want the short version or the long version? Never mind, I¡¯ll tell you both.¡± He grinned and settled more comfortably in his chair, leaning forward. ¡°The short reason is cuz fuck you. That¡¯s why.¡±

    She stared at him for a moment, then said, ¡°That¡¯s not a reason.¡± Why do I bother?

    He burst into laughter. ¡°OK, OK, OK. Lemme explain. Long version. You an¡¯ I an¡¯ everyone else are insignificant specks on a chunk of rock, which in turn is an insignificant speck, hurtlin¡¯ through the icy screamin¡¯ void of space. We mean nothin¡¯. Everythin¡¯ we do is ultimately meaningless. No matter what happens to you, trigger or no, means jack shit. Tha¡¯s the truth. You with me so far?¡±

    ¡°But you can¡¯t look at it like that. In spite of what I just said, people still do amazin¡¯ shit. Moon landings, pyramids, you get the picture. You may be one in a billion, but you never know what¡¯ll come outta what you do until you try. Ninety nine point nine repeating percent of all 9.7 billion people on Earth wouldn¡¯t care if I died, so why do I continue? Because I want to. Because I¡¯ve got my brothers, I¡¯ve got friends an¡¯ acquaintances, I¡¯ve got stuff I wanna do before I kick the bucket. It matters what you do more than anythin¡¯ else. So what are you gonna do? Mope about somethin¡¯ outta your control, or do somethin¡¯? I watched you eat bullets. Bullets. There¡¯s a reason we use those to kill each other, an¡¯ you just shrugged ¡®em off. You can do a lot of shit if you put your mind to it.¡±

    He leaned back and took a deep breath. Olivia barely heard him breathe during that entire tirade.

    ¡°I get what you¡¯re saying. But I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve been afraid of nearly everything for weeks now.¡± Ben started coughing at that. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Nothin¡¯. Continue.¡± He waved her off, hiding his smile with the other hand.

    Olivia was getting tired of Ben treating everything like a joke. ¡°What, you¡¯ve never been afraid that some government agency is going to swoop in and dissect you? You¡¯ve never been afraid that you were going insane because you didn¡¯t even know your own name? Never been afraid of how you¡¯re going to get by day to day, if you¡¯re ever going to get a job or fit in anywhere?¡± Her voice was raised at that point.

    Unfortunately, he still grinned. So help me, I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll do¡­ something. Ben spoke up before she could think of something suitable, ¡°You got a point. Several actually. Sorry ¡®bout that. Never really thought about it. But let me tell you this: even without the whole dragon thing goin¡¯ on, you look like you could break me in half, no problem. So it¡¯s kinda funny when you get all scared and uncertain. Kinda jarring.¡± He caught her look. ¡°Hey, hey, it¡¯s a compliment. The breaking in half part at least.¡±

    He did sound apologetic, as much as she had ever heard him before. As well, not lying seemed to be his thing. ¡°Sorry, I kind of lost my temper.¡±

    He looked incredulous. ¡°What, you lost your temper? That sounded like a normal conversation with me. You¡¯ve spent more time around me without snappin¡¯ than anyone who¡¯s not my brother. An¡¯ what the hell are you saying sorry to me for anyways? I¡¯m a jackass. My job is to hurt people. You saw me stab an¡¯ shoot people. Guess what? No moral repercussions for me. None. They had it comin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°What, you¡¯re OK with killing other people?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°How are you a good guy then?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not. My brother Rob, he¡¯s a techie, goes by Gears. He¡¯s in Pennsylvania as a freelancin¡¯ fixer. Sam never got powers, I don¡¯t think. He joined up with Lock Corp. a couple years ago when we split. Haven¡¯t heard from him in a while. But the thing is, Rob said he¡¯d go into the crime business, Sam said he¡¯d be a merc. I said I¡¯d be a vigilante, which is basically a criminal who hurts other criminals.¡± He motioned around them to the room full of weapons. ¡°Hell, I stole most of this from criminals, or bought it with money I stole from them. We do what we do because we said we would. I said nothin¡¯ about bein¡¯ a good guy.¡±

    He kills people. How did I forget? ¡°You were going to kill me if I was feral, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    Without hesitation, he said, ¡°Yep. Wouldn¡¯t have lost any sleep, either. But, you ain¡¯t a standard feral, which I don¡¯t think has been drilled into your skull quite enough yet. I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ you¡¯re bein¡¯ a bit hard on yourself. So I tell you what, we track down those kidnappers, an¡¯ murder ¡®em. Until they die, of course. How¡¯s that sound?¡±

    Olivia studied her knees instead of responding. One claw played with a worn hole on her pants. I think he wants me to say yes. I don¡¯t know. That seems like something he wants to do. But what else can I do?

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a maybe. God damn, we¡¯ve been talking for hours,¡± said Ben, bringing her back to the real world. ¡°It¡¯s time to get movin¡¯. Give me a minute to pack an¡¯ get everythin¡¯ to the car.¡±

    ¡°Do I have to be in the car?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on the far end of town. Might save you some leg work. Or wing work, whatever.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± she mumbled. But that car is so small and uncomfortable. I guess he knows what he¡¯s saying.

    Ben pulled out a duffel bag from under his bed with the butt of a long rifle sticking out of the side. ¡°Just needs some ammo,¡± he said with a grin.

 11: Alive

    Chapter 11: Alive

    The worrying rattling noise coming from Skulker¡¯s Jeep¡¯s engine vanished after two minutes of driving. Oh thank god, he thought. If it keeps getting longer I might have to do something about it. No clue what, maybe Rob can help. At an unreasonably long red light, he twisted in his seat to take check on his passenger. Olivia took up most of the back seat, neck bent at an odd angle. Each wing pressed against the windows for lack of anywhere else to go.

    He grinned and said, ¡°Get comfy, we got about forty more minutes of this. Apparently there¡¯s somethin¡¯ out east we need to see. I think it was a little airstrip out in the fields.¡±

    ¡°I thought we were in mountains,¡± she replied, voice as timid as ever.

    ¡°Nope. The city''s right at the foothills. East is just empty fuckin¡¯ corn fields, same as the rest of the Midwest.¡± The light ahead turned green, and Skulker resisted the urge to simply gun the engine into the empty intersection. ¡°This would go quicker if we were on the highway, but cops watch the fuck outta those, so we gotta take little streets. They probably don¡¯t got checkpoints set up where we¡¯re headin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°So what happened to that guy you had? Did he tell you where this was?¡± she asked.

    A chuckle escaped Skulker. I thought she was going to turn a blind eye to that. Maybe she¡¯s finally growing a spine. ¡°Me and him just had a little chat. He ain¡¯t dead, don¡¯t worry. He¡¯s got a nice prison cell right now, havin¡¯ another chat with the cops,¡± he replied.

    ¡°He went to the police? Why would he do that?¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s the thing. He knows I can do whatever I want with him. So I let him run to the cops instead, in exchange for info. They got laws. They need proof. If I just stabbed him, he¡¯d say whatever he¡¯d think I¡¯d wanna hear, not the truth.¡± He glanced at the rear-view mirror, catching a look of horror on her face at the casual mention of stabbing.

    They drove on, the screaming metal band on the radio at half volume the only sound filling the silence, until Olivia cleared her throat and asked, ¡°Why do you cuss so much?¡±

    Cuss? ¡°What? Like shit an¡¯ fuck?¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°That a problem? They¡¯re just words.¡±

    ¡°No, never mind,¡± she said, eyes fixed on the window to her right.

    Skulker gripped the steering wheel tight in frustration. God damn it. You almost had a personality there! Put some force behind your voice or something. I feel like I¡¯m talking to a bowl of oatmeal.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯ve been askin¡¯ all these questions, but I don¡¯t really know anythin¡¯ about you.¡± She shrank in her seat, shoulders hunched forward. ¡°Tell me about yourself.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied, voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I can¡¯t remember.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s just extra bullshit. Who are you? What do you do? What do you like? What opinions do you got?¡± Silence reigned for a few heartbeats. ¡°Well?¡± he prodded. These aren¡¯t hard questions.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied. ¡°I¡¯m just me.¡±

    He twisted in his seat to look her dead in the eye. ¡°What does that mean? What do you do for fun?¡±

    ¡°I like flying.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°Great! Good start. What else?¡± She stayed silent. ¡°Who are you? You just gonna sit around an¡¯ wait for the answer to fall in your lap?¡±

    ¡°I fly around,¡± she stammered out. ¡°I look for food.¡±

    ¡°That all?¡± This is like pulling teeth. ¡°You don¡¯t remember anythin¡¯, I get that. Olivia, why¡¯d you pick that as your name? You gotta remember that,¡± he said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Lazy. ¡°Think.¡±

    ¡°It sounded nice. Sorry,¡± she whispered, eyes fixed firmly on her knees.

    ¡°Less apologizin¡¯, more doin¡¯. An¡¯ don¡¯t worry, that ain¡¯t a bad reason.¡±

    Skulker let the topic drop, and they drove through the dark streets in silence as they skirted around the edge of a part of Sanchez¡¯s territory. His mask rested on the seat beside him just in case anyone happened to look through the window, though they¡¯d only come across one or two other cars in fifteen minutes. He flicked a button jury rigged to the radio, swapping out the music with the chatter of the police band. Good, it¡¯s quiet. Less chance for something stupid to happen.

    He spotted a couple of women leaning on the wall of a closed bar, phones in hand. One glanced at the car for a brief moment before returning her attention to her little glowing screen. A few minutes later, they drove past a man walking down the street, notable only because there had been no others in twenty minutes. No fear there. Something¡¯s not right. We¡¯re not driving through the heart of gangland here.

    A light turned on in the back seat, straining his night adjusted eyes for a moment. ¡°Whoa, turn that off. I can¡¯t see,¡± he called out.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Olivia fumbled around, her claws scratching at something plastic, before finally figuring out how to turn off the light. ¡°My head hit the switch,¡± she added.

    He put on the gas, eager to get out of the neighborhood. After a few minutes, a car pulled up behind them, dark blue and low to the ground. From around Olivia, he noticed a second, larger car just behind it, a split second before its high beams turn on and blinded any view behind him. Fuck.

    Skulker put on his mask in one fluid, practiced motion. ¡°Ready! This is gonna suck,¡± he shouted. He gunned the engine just as a short, unmarked truck with its lights off shot into the road in front of them. Skulker yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, feeling tires leave the pavement for a moment. Olivia, caught completely off guard, slammed into the door with a startled yelp.

    His hands desperately twisted the wheel back towards the road, the corner of his Jeep coming within inches of ramming into the curb. With a straight, empty road ahead of him, he floored the gas pedal, leaving the ambush site behind. The muscle car caught up with almost contemptuous ease. Skulker struggled with a brief glance to make out the headlights of the second car past the glare of the muscle car¡¯s high beams

    The muscle car pulled up, passenger window rolled down. I¡¯m about to get filled with lead. Just as the muscle car reached the Jeep, he hit the brakes. Two shots whipped past, one breaking his door window. He swerved into the back panel of the muscle car, sending the surprised driver spinning out. Now without high beams burning his eyes in a mirror, he could see a black SUV swerving around his friend.

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    Even it was more than a match for Skulker¡¯s old, weathered car, though the muscle car had lost precious ground. He slammed the brakes once more, twisted the steering wheel, and gunned the engine down another road. The other cars scrambled to adjust, though not far behind. My car is too shitty. We¡¯re in the middle of the city, no dirt road I can fuck them over with.

    ¡°We need to lose these guys.¡± Someone got off a couple shots, forcing him to duck, though only one hit the car. ¡°Ideas?¡± he called out. Olivia simply looked at him with fear.

    Good talk. OK. Options? Cops might make them back off, but they¡¯ll come after us too. In the rear-view mirror, he spotted a man leaning out the side of the SUV, gun in hand. Skulker faked a turn to the right, than cut hard to the left, down yet another street. It took a moment for the headlights of an oncoming car to register. It blared its horn and swerved out of the way. Glass shattered and metal shrieked as the muscle car, having taken the turn much sharper than the much higher profile vehicles it followed, collided with the oncoming car.

    Poor dude. Skulker slammed the gas pedal into the floor, keeping inches ahead of the black SUV as it swerved at him, attempting the same maneuver he¡¯d used on the muscle car. Heart racing, knuckles white on the steering wheel, he felt a wide grin split his face. This is living! He was jolted back to reality when the SUV swiped at them once more, causing him to over correct. For a split second that lasted an eternity, his car drove on two wheels before gravity helped him out. More gunshot went off. Skulker yelled to his passenger, ¡°Keep your head down!¡±

    One more car, he thought, We¡¯ve got room to maneuver. Could we just kill them?

    ¡°Can you shoot?¡± he shouted over the roar of the engine. He leaned over, one hand reaching for his handgun resting on the passenger seat beside him.

    ¡°What? No!¡± replied Olivia.

    Great. He rolled down his window, swerving to the side to keep the gunners behind them on their toes. A few bullets his the asphalt near his tires. I can¡¯t hit that shot either. Unless I do this. With the road empty and straight in front of him, he took a deep breath, and time froze.

    Everything stopped, color receded. The bleached world around him made no sound, no movement. His head pounded. He reached for his pistol and began to lean out of his car.

    One.

    Still moving, pistol and arm now out.

    Two.

    The rest of his upper body followed his arm outside. The pulse of his heart sent a lance of pain through his brain.

    Three.

    His free arm grabbed the door, steadying himself. He raised his knee to press against the unmoving steering wheel to keep it nominally under control once time resumed.

    Four.

    He took aim, directly at the driver of the SUV. He didn¡¯t bother firing, one bullet probably wouldn¡¯t get the job done, and any more would freeze in the same spot the moment they left the barrel and collide once time resumed.

    Five.

    His finger rested on the trigger, aim as good as it would get under the circumstances. Blood trickled from his nose.

    Now.

    Time resumed forward progress. Three bullets, aimed perfectly at the driver of the SUV, fired from Skulker¡¯s pistol in quick succession. Without a foot on the gas, his car began to decelerate. The SUV rear ended his car as he was halfway back into his seat, slamming his ribs into the window frame. He dropped his pistol to wrestle back control of his vehicle. The SUV slowed down as Skulker and Olivia hurdled off into the night.

    ***

    ¡°We kicked a fuckin¡¯ hornets nest. I shoulda known. Too many guns in that warehouse,¡± Skulker grumbled as they drove at exactly the speed limit down the country road.

    All windows were down, airing out the smell of sweat and adrenaline from the car. The trash bag taped over the shattered rear window fluttered in the wind. They¡¯d stopped for a few minutes to cover up the handful of bullet holes and other damage the car had taken as best they could in case they drove past a cop.

    ¡°They were watchin¡¯ for us,¡± he continued. ¡°We were already suspicious, when that light went on they probably saw you.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Olivia mumbled. She¡¯d shown the glimmer of a personality by jumping at the chance to get out of the car earlier, but now found herself crammed back in, wings bent on either side of her. As always, she¡¯d spoken up only rarely, and then only to ask clarifying questions.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t your fault, I shoulda steered us way clear of that. Thought it was just a risky shortcut. Be real fuckin¡¯ careful where you go from here on out. They¡¯re gonna be watchin¡¯ the skies too, it¡¯s hard to miss those wings.¡±

    They drove on, Skulker ignoring the new rattling sound coming somewhere from the back of the car. There¡¯s nothing dragging back there when we checked. Not much I can do about it right now. They¡¯d left the city a few minutes ago, and now drove down a deserted country road to the east of the city. Row upon row of desolate corn fields passed them by, punctuated by the occasional sleeping herd of cattle or bison.

    ¡°Hey, Ben?¡± said Olivia, breaking the silence.

    So many questions. ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°When they were chasing us, at the end, you teleported, but you didn¡¯t move that much. And your nose was bleeding. What was that?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I froze time for a few seconds,¡± he replied, ignoring the mounting pressure behind his eyes. ¡°Gonna give me a bitchin¡¯ migraine in about four hours.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really sorry,¡± she mumbled, eyes fixed on her lap. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have touched that light thing.¡±

    He snorted out a laugh and said, ¡°Hey, it was an accident. We¡¯re both in one piece. I¡¯m pissed about my car, but I¡¯ll live. Let¡¯s case this place an¡¯ go home.¡±

    After a few more minutes of driving, they finally came to the field the captured gang member had told Skulker about. The sun began its march across the sky, the weak light providing just enough to see. Beyond obvious signs of upturned dirt and tire marks, the place was devoid of any structure of any other feature. Might wanna check on whoever owns this land, he thought as he stepped out of his car. Just behind him, Olivia¡¯s foot twisted and she nearly fell flat on her face as she climbed out of the car.

    ¡°You OK?¡± he asked with a grin.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied, cheeks reddening.

    He checked his phone. ¡°This should be it. Thought it was weird he gave us lat long coordinates.¡±

    ¡°Lat long?¡± Olivia repeated.

    ¡°Latitude and longitude. It¡¯s a universal point on earth thing. I¡¯ll show you a map later, it¡¯ll make more sense. Our guy mentioned unwillin¡¯ people comin¡¯ in an¡¯ outta here.¡±

    He looked up from his phone to catch her staring off into the sky. The reptilian eyes made it hard to tell if she was focused on anything.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± he asked her.

    She paused, sniffing the air a few more times before replying, ¡°There¡¯s a weird smell here.¡±

    He took a breath through his nose himself, smelling nothing but dry grass. ¡°What smell?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s almost like oil. There¡¯s nothing else like it out here.¡±

    He thought for a moment. Of course, this is an airstrip. Why is she pointing it out? ¡°Plane fuel?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No,¡± she replied, shaking her head. ¡°The plane stuff smells similar to car stuff. This is different.¡±

    ¡°Can you track it?¡± God damn. If she can be a bloodhound too this is gonna be great!

    He followed her through the field, keeping an eye out in case anyone else happened to be out in the middle of nowhere at the crack of dawn. She led them about two hundred yards into the dirt, than stopped.

    ¡°There isn¡¯t a source,¡± she murmured. ¡°It just ends here.¡±

    A dull glint caught his eyes. He knelt down and dug up a grey bullet, still in its case with its primer intact. Not brass. Stainless steel? What is this? Oh no. The rifle cartridge had more than a few similarities to the ammo he used for the long rifle on his back.

    ¡°Fuck. The kid is gone,¡± he sighed.

    ¡°What? Why?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°This casing,¡± he said, holding it up for her to examine. ¡°Looks like unpolished stainless steel, right? It ain¡¯t. Better than brass, a quarter of the weight, same strength. See how short it is, compared to the other rifle ammo you saw in the warehouse? Less weight again, right? Powder in this is some voodoo alchemy, don¡¯t need much to make the killin¡¯ bit fly. Only Overlord uses somethin¡¯ like this.¡±

    Her head tilted to the side as she asked, ¡°Who is that?¡±

    ¡°The boogeyman. Techie. Real bad news. Probably where Sanchez got those rifles from.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we see any of these before?¡± she asked, motioning to the bullet in his hand.

    ¡°Good question. This ain¡¯t for those rifles in the warehouse. He probably just makes shit like that to make ends meet. Well, I say shit, those rifles are probably top of the line anywhere else. Shit for him. This? This is for his real guns. They probably made one to pay off some mob boss or another. Hell, maybe even Sanchez.¡±

    ¡°So what about the kid?¡±

    ¡°He could be halfway across the world by now. Overlord ain¡¯t fuckin¡¯ around.¡± He lifted his mask and spat on the ground. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. We¡¯re done.¡±

 12: State of Mind

    Chapter 12: State of Mind

    Olivia flexed her wings as she paced back and forth in her apartment. I¡¯m never getting into a car again. I¡¯m just going to fly everywhere from now on. The ache in her neck had only partially receded over the course of the day, though her gunshot bruises from the warehouse had healed over. What else do I have to do? Ben¡¯s question echoed in her mind, What do I do?

    As was becoming her ritual, she thought, I¡¯ve been stuck in the same apartment forever so no one accidentally sees me. I just sleep away the day and only come out at night. At least I¡¯m not under a microscope in some lab. She sighed. That seems like a low bar, though.

    With soft hiss as her aching joints protested, Olivia wandered over to the window. Outside, a faint brown haze hung over Westward City. In the waning daylight, the constant hum of cars from a major road reached her from two streets over. Down below, a handful of people walked along the street, all on the opposite side of where Olivia''s building stood, a far cry from the near ghost town the city turned into at night.

    What if someone looks in the window? Ben said I should keep out of sight. She shied away, then paused. Am I just going to keep doing this? Just never leaving my room because someone might see me? I can just go up to the roof, nothing is stopping me. No one can see up there. Besides, the sun is nice and warm, I should enjoy it before it goes down.

    She headed to the rooftop, stretching out her wings to catch the sun. The city had so much more color during the day. The leaves of half of the trees along the sidewalks were budding, now that winter had ended. The other half seemed dead, brittle branches blowing stiffly in the breeze.

    A car with ¡°Police¡± emblazoned on its side and a set of lights affixed to the roof pulled up to a dinghy computer repair store across the street. Olivia pulled back from the edge of the roof. The doors opened, and out of the squad car came two figures, one a bulky man, the other a short haired woman. Both wore rough and baggy grey camo pants and jackets, with pistols strapped to their belts. They walked with purpose to the storefront.

    Minutes passed, with Olivia hunched over at the edge of the roof, torn between fear and curiosity. Why are they here? They don¡¯t have a computer to fix, and they don¡¯t look like normal police officers. The ones I''ve seen always wear blue. The sun hung low in the sky by the time they came out, both looking unhappy. The male officer stared at Olivia¡¯s building, his eyes climbing higher and higher. She ducked down, holding her breath until she heard the sounds of car doors opening and closing. When she poked her head back up, she found the two talking for a few minutes. Finally, the woman started the car and drove off towards the skyscrapers to the north.

    Olivia smiled, wings slumped in relief. They¡¯re gone! They didn¡¯t see me! She gazed at the snow capped mountains in the distance, a handful of clouds cresting over their peaks. I could just go there. I can fly, I could just do that. Why am I just sitting here? Maybe I¡¯ll like mountains. Wait, I¡¯m not supposed to fly. Ben said so. But he also said I should know stuff and like stuff. And people only found us when we were driving. I won¡¯t be in a car. I¡¯ll fly really high. And it¡¯s almost night time. I¡¯ll be fine. The police didn¡¯t see me.

    She took off during a lull in the nearby foot traffic, heading west. The air grew thin and cold as she flew higher than she¡¯d ever flown before. She passed over the sounds of construction crews working on a stretch of road covered in rubble, the clinks and engine noises still reaching her high above. A handful of geese flew in a lopsided V pattern far above her, heading south. Barely half an hour of flight passed before the city gave way to the spread out houses and lawns of a suburb, and suburb to hills covered in brown grasses and scrub brush. As she passed into the mountains, she could still see a small handful of roads and trails, winding and twisting through the mountain valleys.

    Before her rose a severe mountain, one of several along the range, the trees clinging to its sides giving way to grey stone a few hundred feet below the peak. Unlike some others she¡¯d passed over, she saw no hiking trails carved into its side. She landed on a particularly large boulder, facing away from the slope. Up close, the mountain resembled more of a massive pile of rocks, rather than one of the monolithic entities they appeared to be from afar. It was quieter here. No cars or people talking or AC humming or any other one of the thousand things she constantly had to blot out in the city. A gust of wind swept by her perch, tugging at her partially folded wings.

    I¡¯m tired. Tired of not knowing what to do. Tired of being weird. Tired of being afraid. Tired of being cooped up in the same building for days. What am I doing? I still don¡¯t know who I really am. I don¡¯t know anything about where I am, or what to do. Ben is the only one helping me, but we haven¡¯t gotten anywhere yet.

    She looked out from her vantage point. Just over a tall hill, the city she¡¯d fled stood under the clear blue sky. From a distance, it looked almost pretty, dozens of silver and glass towers rising from the brown plains. Mile upon mile of housing stretched out from downtown, broken up by trees.

    Maybe I should save him the trouble. I could just live out here like a normal feral. He wouldn¡¯t mind. Right? It¡¯s not like anyone else knows or cares about me. It wouldn¡¯t be that bad. But where would I get food? And what if it rains?

    She perched on her rock until the sun finally set behind her. What am I doing?

    ***

    Nearly empty streets greeted Olivia¡¯s return, night having fallen. A familiar scent caught her nose as she stomped down the stairs back to her apartment. Oh no. Ben. He¡¯s going to know I was flying around. She froze on the staircase, unable to take the last few steps down to her floor. The claws of her feet clenched, digging into the concrete steps. What if he gets mad? He¡¯s going to know I was flying around. She cast a look over her shoulder, back up towards the roof. Maybe I should go fly somewhere else, and just wait until he leaves. But I¡¯m not supposed to fly. I should just get this over with. He¡¯s here for a reason.

    She took the last few steps down and reached the door to her apartment, taking a deep breath. Here it goes. She found Skulker lounging on the couch, boots slung over the edge of the armrest. Both his rifle and pistol were absent, and his mask rested on his chest as he drummed his fingers along its forehead.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he said with a wave. ¡°Perfect timin¡¯. Just got here a couple minutes ago.¡± She nodded, mute. He swung his legs and jumped upright. ¡°Why you lookin¡¯ so scared?¡±

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d be mad,¡± she mumbled in response, still halfway through the door. ¡°I was flying, you know, before the sun set.¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°You do you. I ain¡¯t gonna tell you it was a good idea, but I ain¡¯t gonna tell you how to live your life. What were you doin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I was just in the mountains.¡± He isn¡¯t mad?

    ¡°You never been up there before?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No,¡± she replied with a small shake of her head.

    With a laugh he said, ¡°You¡¯re a real Coloradan now. Coloradoan? However the fuck you say that.¡±

    An awkward silence filled the room. I should say something. ¡°What do you know about?¡± she asked.

    Skulker started at her for a moment. I¡¯m stupid, I should have said that better. ¡°What? About what?¡± he replied.

    ¡°What do you know about so I know what to ask you about?¡± I hope that made more sense.

    ¡°Donuts. Metal,¡± he said, holding up a finger for each thing he listed. ¡°I¡¯m a big fan of action movies. Guns an¡¯ stuff. American Military history. Yeah. That¡¯s pretty much what I got.¡± Olivia''s head tilted at the specificity of the last topic, but before she could ask about it Skulker pushed on and said, ¡°We¡¯re gettin¡¯ off topic. I was thinkin¡¯ it¡¯s high time to figure out where the fuck you came from.¡±

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°OK! We were just going to look at security cameras around here, right?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    In stores, right? Isn''t that what he said? ¡°Oh, yeah, I saw some police officers earlier this morning. No, afternoon. Sorry. It was when I woke up. They went to one of the stores nearby¡±

    The moment she mentioned the police his smile faded, and he seemed to tune out her following babbling. She flinched.

    ¡°What were they wearin¡¯?¡± he asked, voice serious.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Police stuff?¡± she replied, eyes fixed on the ground.

    ¡°What color? Grey, black, blue, tan?¡±

    ¡°Grey.¡±

    ¡°OK. Those were MHU cops. That¡¯s bad.¡±

    ¡°What are those other colors?¡±

    ¡°Blue an¡¯ tan is your standard cop or state patrol guy. Black is when they¡¯re there for killin¡¯. Grey is MHU, an¡¯ they ain¡¯t fuckin'' around. Where did you see them at?¡±

    ¡°That one store over there,¡± she replied, pointing to the computer repair shop through the window.

    ¡°OK. They weren¡¯t wearin¡¯ armor or anythin¡¯?¡± he asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a no. You¡¯d know it if you saw it,¡± he said, nodding to himself. ¡°What did they do?¡±

    ¡°They went in for a little bit, then came out and left,¡± she stammered in reply.

    ¡°How long?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied reflexively. ¡°Maybe ten minutes.¡±

    ¡°You just fly around, right? No walkin¡¯? No chance they coulda spotted you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really walk around here,¡± she replied. ¡°Because, you know, I can just glide off the roof.¡±

    He breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Great! We might have just dodged a bullet there. It don¡¯t sound like they found anythin¡¯. I¡¯m gonna take a look around, see if there¡¯s any MHU guys waitin¡¯ to bust in. You stay put. They''re lookin¡¯ for you, not me. You hear more than one person comin¡¯ in, you get the fuck out, any way you can.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± she replied, folding her wings tight against her back. But if there¡¯s bad people out there, he¡¯ll be all alone.

    Skulker teleported out without another word, leaving Olivia alone in her apartment once more. Far from the window, she paced back and forth, keeping an ear out for anyone in the building. The minutes stretched on as she thought, What if the police are here right now? Could I just get out through the window? Is Ben OK? She tensed as she heard footsteps, before realizing it was just one set. With a few teleports, Skulker jumped back in

    ¡°We¡¯re good. They wouldn''t have fucked around if they thought you were here,¡± said Skulker with a grin, flashing her a thumbs up. ¡°Damn near gave me a heart attack. Wouldn¡¯t be able to do much else but run. I ain¡¯t shootin¡¯ a cop.¡±

    Olivia nodded, mute.

    ¡°It sounds like they''re searchin¡¯ the area for you,¡± he explained. ¡°Maybe they were lookin¡¯ into somethin¡¯ else, but I don¡¯t think we should rely on a coincidence like that. I don¡¯t think I can shove you away in my apartment, too many eyes around. Keep an ear out, just in case.¡±

    Skulker teleported over to the couch and plopped down. Olivia remained standing, keeping her wings behind her and out of the way. She cast a sidelong glance at the barren walls and empty rooms. His apartment had so much stuff in it. Mine just has a couch and a pile of clothes.

    Skulker drummed his hands on his thighs as he said, ¡°I took a couple hours to scout out what¡¯s in the area this mornin¡¯. There¡¯s nothin¡¯ right next to us, but there¡¯s a couple shops that look like their security is iron bars, rather than a dude with a shotgun. We¡¯ll wanna go there, avoid murderin¡¯ anyone. Not all had cameras, either. That computer place was one of them, but if the cops came through I don¡¯t wanna go anywhere near it. If they come back they might notice somethin¡¯ wrong.¡±

    Olivia nodded. I guess that makes sense.

    ¡°Once we¡¯re in, we take a look at their camera footage. They all got a place to watch an¡¯ review it, so we don¡¯t gotta drag equipment around, but we gotta be fast. We¡¯re lookin¡¯ for any big cargo car in the minutes leadin¡¯ up to you wakin¡¯ up. Or anythin¡¯ suspicious.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°I dunno. We¡¯ll know it when we see it. Now, to be clear, this ain¡¯t legal. We¡¯re breakin¡¯ an¡¯ enterin¡¯. You OK with this?¡±

    I don¡¯t know. He seems to be OK with it. And we¡¯re not hurting anyone. ¡°I¡¯m OK.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get goin¡¯.¡±

    ***

    Skulker waved to Olivia from the roof across the road from her. She took the cue and glided over, landing on the gravel of the roof with a crunch. Skulker jumped and teleported down to the fifth store they¡¯d hit that night. She suppress a yawn as she followed. The sun should be up soon.

    Without a word, they slipped into their roles. Skulker pulled out a bit of wire, and after ten minutes and many muttered curses, finally forced the door to the shop open, while Olivia pretended like she knew how to keep watch behind him. I don¡¯t see anyone. I guess that¡¯s good enough.

    Once inside, they swiftly tracked down a dingy little room towards the back, away from where customers would be. Skulker rifled through poorly organized tapes labeled with black marker while Olivia stood behind him, pretending she knew what to look for. Sure, that tape seems right.

    Olivia bent over double behind Skulker as they watched tape after grainy tape, cars moving past on the screen in slow motion. And just like the previous four stores, they found nothing that stuck out. They watched for a half hour before she woke up, and watched the same handful of nondescript cars pass by.

    ¡°Mostly the same fuckin¡¯ cars. The church van, two motorcycles,¡± Skulker muttered under his breath, listing off the vehicles as they paraded past on screen. ¡°Two black cars, the one missin¡¯ a bumper. Fuck.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything,¡± whispered Olivia.

    ¡°Neither do I. Maybe we need to check if any stick around for too long, but that¡¯d mean we gotta steal a bunch of tapes. If there¡¯s cops sniffin¡¯ around we¡¯ll have the hammer of God comin¡¯ down on us real quick if there¡¯s missin tapes. Come on, let¡¯s get outta here. Meet me outside the donut shop¡±

    They left, Skulker doing his best to lock the door behind them, and split up, heading for the donut shop. She passed far over the neighborhood on the way. She¡¯d never walked through the area since she figured out the whole flying thing. There was precious little food to be found, and the power lines throughout the neighborhood didn¡¯t have any lights. She couldn¡¯t dodge every single one if she flew too low, though the lack of wind that night made it easier.

    She found the roof of her favorite building to overlook the donut mall. After a minute and some hollow metallic echoing sounds, Skulker climbed and teleported up to join her.

    ¡°That didn¡¯t go great, not gonna lie. Hear any sirens out there?¡± he said once he got within normal speaking distance.

    She paused. Nothing that really stands out. There¡¯s a weird little ringing sound. I can¡¯t tell where that¡¯s from, but no sirens. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡± Skulker pulled out the wallet. ¡°Do I have cash?¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°I do! Wanna get some food?¡±

    ¡°OK!¡± she replied, standing up straighter immediately. I will never say no to food.

    ¡°You can read the drive thru menu from here, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Of course I can. Those giant, bright panels outside with all the colorful pictures and words on them? How could you not?

    ¡°So read it. Make a decision. What do you want?¡±

    She leaned forward and read through a dozen similar sounding names for the same basic cheeseburger. ¡°The bacon burger thing. Triple? There¡¯s one that says double and another that says triple and the triple has more meat on it.¡± And bacon is meat, too, right?

    ¡°Anythin¡¯ else? Want a shake?¡±

    I think that¡¯s food. ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Flavor?¡±

    Olivia glanced at the menu again, finding the bright desert menu in the lower right corner. ¡°Vanilla,¡± she said, picking the first option on the list.

    ¡°Really? The most borin¡¯ shake flavor?¡±

    Boring is great. Nothing is shooting at you when things are boring. ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± With that, he teleported off, walking once he got close enough to the restaurant. He came out of the building a few minutes later carrying a large bag of food with one hand and a couple drinks in the other.

    After a minute, he rejoined her at on the rooftop. ¡°Jumpy little fry cook in there. Your plain-ass shake,¡± he said, offering her a large cup with a straw sticking out of the lid. He joined her in sitting on the edge of the roof and lifted his mask to eat, leaving it resting on the top of his head. They divided the burgers and ate.

    ¡°What do you have against vanilla?¡± asked Olivia after a moment, eyeing the shake in her hands. Did I mess up? Is it bad? Or does he just think it¡¯s boring?

    ¡°Nothin¡¯s wrong with it, I¡¯m just givin¡¯ you shit,¡± he said.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with boring,¡± she whispered to herself, taking a sip. Shakes are good! It tastes like that cinnamon thing I had earlier. But without the cinnamon. I think. I want more.

    They finished their food in silence, Olivia finishing off her food far before Skulker. At some point the light of the drive thru menu started dimming over the course of a few seconds then flickering fully back to life in a regular pattern.

    Skulker crumpled the last of his three value menu burger wrappers and threw it in the bag. ¡°I¡¯ve had just as much fast food in the past month than the rest of the year combined,¡± he commented.

    She nodded in agreement, still drinking. I can¡¯t remember ever having much healthy stuff. I guess water is healthy.

    ¡°No complaints? From a chick?¡± asked Skulker.

    What? She shrugged. I don¡¯t really mind. I mean, it¡¯s better fresh. ¡°You don¡¯t care?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Nope. Me an¡¯ my brothers are some of those infuriatin¡¯ fucks who don¡¯t gain weight no matter how much we eat.¡±

    All the streetlights died. Olivia looked around. A tiny handful of lights twinkled off in the distance; nothing near them. This is strange. She shot a look at Skulker, who just sighed. Or not?

    ¡°Come on, people!¡± he exclaimed to the sky, throwing a balled up wrapper at the half moon. ¡°I thought we got this shit sorted out last year!¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The power¡¯s been spotty since forever. But they said they got their shit together. Hell, that was part of the mayor¡¯s campaign. Or was it governor¡¯s? Whatever.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem very good.¡±

    ¡°Well, they say if New York goes four months without a blackout, the US economy is back on track. We got like a fraction of the people in New York, you¡¯d think it¡¯d be easier to keep the lights on, but no. Anythin¡¯ you wanna do while we¡¯re out?¡±

    ¡°No. Not that I can think of. And thank you. For, you know, coming.¡±

    He laughed as he put his mask back into place. ¡°No problem. See you tomorrow, we¡¯ll keep huntin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± It¡¯s too quiet out right now. Kind of dark now, too.

    He jumped and teleported down to the ground, and Olivia took flight back to her apartment. The lack of wind made the air noticeably hotter. Is that tapping I hear? She checked over her shoulder to find nothing but empty air and lights on the horizon. Weird.

 13: Nomad

    Chapter 13: Nomad

    Chris stomped into his apartment, throwing his blue bandana and keys into a dark green, homemade ceramic bowl on a stand beside the door. He stretched, popping his aching back, and headed for the kitchen. Alicia looked up from her notes and textbooks strewn about on the coffee table before her. The laugh track of some god-awful sitcom she insisted was good background noise blared from the TV.

    She mustered a weary smile and said, ¡°Hi dear! Late night again?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied. ¡°Marcus is super pissed. Me and Delta can¡¯t go five minutes without him bitching at us.¡± He grabbed a beer from the fridge and called out over his shoulder, ¡°Want anything?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s eight in the morning.¡±

    He blinked. ¡°Really?¡± He checked his watch and said, ¡°You¡¯re right. I thought it was earlier.¡± Of course our feral had to get involved in a running gun battle on the streets. How dare I get some sleep? he thought.

    ¡°You thought it was earlier? That¡¯s not better.¡± She moved over on the couch cleared a small area on the coffee table for him to rest his feet, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. ¡°You need to shave again.¡±

    ¡°I know. Gearing up for another exam?¡± he asked shooting a glance at the medical textbooks that may as well have been written in Greek to him. ¡°I thought you finished midterms.¡± She looks as tired as I feel.

    ¡°I¡¯ve still got Unnatural Diseases tomorrow,¡± she replied with a sigh. ¡°You know it¡¯s bad when the textbooks says get a mage and pray.¡±

    ¡°Maybe poke them with a stick,¡± Chris suggested.

    That got a smile out of her. ¡°They frown on that in most hospitals. Are you almost done with your craziness?¡±

    He sighed and leaned back, taking a drink. I know, I want this to be over with too. ¡°It¡¯s been almost a week and we still don¡¯t have the feral. If it hurts someone, that¡¯s on me.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s already attacked, hasn¡¯t it?¡± Alicia asked.

    ¡°No. Well, a few thugs here and there. It¡¯s only a matter of time before it runs into someone we have to care about.¡±

    ¡°Really? I¡¯d heard that it was attacking certain people already.¡±

    ¡°That is true.¡± Chris stopped for a moment, considering his words. The vigilante is a hush hush detail. ¡°It¡¯s a strange case. I¡¯ll tell you about the rest once this is over with.¡±

    ¡°Oh, cheating on me with a coworker I see,¡± she said, in the same placid tone of voice used to discuss what was for dinner.

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a torrid romance. Stolen kisses in the armory, dodging detectives in the building, all that,¡± he replied, maintaining the same deadpan expression as Alicia. It took only a moment before their facades cracked and they burst into laughter.

    She punched his shoulder and said, ¡°You¡¯re not going to be able to find it at all if you keep working fourteen hour nights.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re close. I¡¯m probably going to be heading out in a couple hours. We think it¡¯s nocturnal, and we¡¯re trying to catch it in the day when it¡¯s tired.¡±

    She nodded, settling back in the couch alongside him. They enjoyed their rare moment of quiet, the terrible sitcom with its intentionally idiotic characters forgotten on the TV. Chris let the stress of the day seep out, eyelids growing heavy. His head jerked up as someone patted him on the cheek. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes to see Alicia smiling at him.

    ¡°Alright, go get some sleep,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll have a lunch ready for you when you wake up.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he grumbled, even as he stood and headed for the bedroom.

    Hours later, he found Alicia curled up in a ball on the couch, notebook and highlighter in hand. On the kitchen counter lay a wrapped peanut butter sandwich. Oh hell yeah. He planted a light kiss on her forehead, then began the trudge back to MHU headquarters.

    ***

    Chris skirted around the wall of empty instant noodle cups around Delta¡¯s chair and tapped her shoulder. The morning shift at the MHU gave him pitying glances as he came in, but no one said anything. He sighed. His partner threw herself at every problem like it was her last, even if she had no idea how to do it. Delta waved him off, eyes still glued to something happening on the laptop in front of her. Two others lay off to the side, fans spinning faster and louder than Chris thought was healthy for a computer. He tapped her again.

    ¡°What?¡± she demanded, spinning in her chair to face him.

    ¡°Did you sleep here?¡± he asked, careful to keep his expression neutral. I get that spinning our wheels is frustrating but this is unhealthy. You are exactly where I left you six hours ago and smell like you haven¡¯t taken a shower in the last day.

    ¡°What? Yeah. It¡¯s almost done,¡± she said with a yawn, flicking a lazy finger over to the screen, as if Chris could easily decipher the code without context.

    ¡°What is?¡± he asked.

    ¡°The drone path-finding,¡± she replied. At the sight of his blank stare, she added. ¡°So we can check rooftops

    ¡°No, I got that. It took you all night to make a drone go in a grid?¡±

    ¡°No, that took thirty minutes. And it¡¯s five drones that I made prioritize certain areas based on the density of abandoned buildings on that list you made.¡±

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    ¡°Good. Did you have anything to add to that?¡±

    ¡°Only a couple things. Oh, and I removed one or two that weren¡¯t actually abandoned.¡±

    ¡°Great. Do you need me to do anything?¡± he asked. You look dead tired. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this on your own.¡±

    She beamed a smile at him. ¡°Great!¡± In a flash, she grabbed reams of paperwork and shoved them into his unsuspecting hands. ¡°Fill these out. Thanks!¡±

    With that, she returned to her computer, leaving Chris little to do but return to his own desk and pull out a pen. He settled into the familiar, if mind numbing, routine of paperwork, simply approving anything Delta wanted so long as the number didn¡¯t stick out as insanely expensive.

    Cyrus approached the desk in a hurry, his black beard longer than Chris had ever seen it before. He looked almost nervous, eyes scanning Chris¡¯ nearly unadorned desk.

    ¡°What are these?¡± he asked, eyeing the forms on Chris¡¯s desk.

    ¡°Requisition forms,¡± replied Chris. Did I do something wrong?

    ¡°Why are you doing them? These are for engineering.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Delta asked for help. You partnered us up for the feral,¡± Chris explained, apprehension filling him. How could you possibly forget that?

    Cyrus started at him for a moment, expression blank. ¡°Oh, right!¡± he said, realization dawning. You aren¡¯t old enough to have Alzheimer''s, are you? ¡°Sorry, there¡¯s too much to keep track of lately.¡± He hurried off before Chris could question him further. Oh god, my boss is losing it, he thought, leaning his head on his hand. What was he even over here for originally?

    ¡°What did he want?¡± asked a slightly lisping voice from Chris¡¯ side as two sets of footsteps approached. Jeremiah, the short haired, clean shaven man who¡¯d spoken, grabbed a nearby chair and sat down across Chris¡¯ desk. Bob beside him shoot a concerned look at the retreating back of Cyrus.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Cyrus is going insane. Delta is going to work herself to death. One day I¡¯ll get used to this job.¡±

    ¡°Techies, man. They¡¯re weird,¡± said Jeremiah with a grin. As tall as Chris, though not nearly as broad shouldered, Jeremiah was part of the same squad as Chris and Bob, serving as the second in command.

    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to lighten the load for her,¡± said Chris, motioning to the paperwork on his desk.

    ¡°Give her little tasks,¡± said Bob, his booming voice carrying through the whole office. ¡°Techies aren¡¯t used to dealing with things they can¡¯t cut through in a day.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve worked with techies before?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Yeah, a couple times,¡± replied Bob. ¡°How is you two¡¯s hunt coming along?¡±

    ¡°Slow. We¡¯re planning on checking out more of the city today. We could use the help of the rest of the squad. Just house clearing, they¡¯re probably abandoned.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense,¡± said Bob. Jeremiah nodded along behind him. ¡°I can spare a few men. Where will we be heading?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a list of locations for the rest of the squad to check out. Delta and I will be checking out everything south of Kipling.¡± Chris dug through the cabinet and handed him the list with the targets circled in marker.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get on it,¡± said Bob, taking the paper. ¡°Good hunting.¡±

    ***

    Less than an hour later, Chris watched five small black drones buzz as they took flight. If the feral was camped out on a rooftop, it would show up on their bottom mounted cameras. They rose in perfect synchronization and spread out, far above the city. It didn¡¯t take long for them to fly completely out of sight.

    ¡°Everything is green,¡± said Delta, eyes glued to her laptop.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s get to work.¡±

    They went from store to ATM to store, checking camera record after camera record in the time span they knew the feral to be active. And every time came up empty. Chris found himself forced into the role of talking, and occasionally smoothing the ruffled feathers from Delta¡¯s brusque manners. As he listened to the old owner of a computer repair shop gripe at Chris about the rudeness and moral degeneracy of his generation, his eyes wandered to the window.

    Across the street stood a huge cluster of buildings in terrible shape. Most hadn¡¯t seen work done on them in decades, and thus a perfect place for a feral to hide. And there are no homeless around. We¡¯re a good ways away from the shantytown, but this would be perfect for a little homeless community. This little shop they found themselves in, that reeked of cigarette smoke and desperation, was the only place in the area still in operation. But a little cluster of numbers caught his eye. Though he¡¯d been the one to comb through the catalogued buildings that were slated for demolition in the next century when the local government finally got around to it, the address of the shabby six story apartment building hadn¡¯t been one.

    Once Delta confirmed there was nothing to be found in the shop¡¯s records, Chris smiled and nodded to the owner as hurried her out and to their patrol car.

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s nothing here,¡± Delta grumbled.

    ¡°What about that building over there?¡± he asked, eyeing the seemingly abandoned apartment building across the street.

    ¡°What about it?¡± she asked, following his gaze.

    ¡°I went through a ton of records, and found a lot of potential hiding places around here, but not that one, even though it looks perfect for the feral. Can you find anything on it?¡±

    Delta opened up her laptop and began typing. ¡°That¡¯s bizarre,¡± she said, after a full minute of silence. ¡°It¡¯s not anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Not abandoned?¡±

    ¡°No, there are no official records of it.¡± She typed in something on her keyboard. ¡°It¡¯s apparently haunted, according to this old shitty site from twenty years ago. That¡¯s about all I can find on it. Scratch that, that¡¯s the only thing I can find on it.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s something going on there. That seems like a good place to check once we¡¯re done checking cameras.¡± Not that that¡¯s getting us anywhere. But we¡¯ve already called ahead, the store owners will complain and than Marcus will actively make us miserable.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think a feral can just delete buildings from public record.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he said. But someone did, and might have made a perfect area for a feral to hide by accident.

    ***

    Early the next day, Chris drove them back to the area around the hotel. The power to the city came back on in fits and starts, just in time for the sun to make the lights redundant. There¡¯s so many abandoned buildings here. We can¡¯t just work down a list with something like this staring at us in the face. If we keep hoping for a lucky break with cameras we¡¯re going to be too late.

    ¡°Should we start with the apartments?¡± asked Delta, still upset that the drones came back with nothing, and she¡¯d spent all night examining the footage they¡¯d come back with to discover nothing.

    ¡°No. Our feral is avoiding people, so whoever is messing with the apartment building probably spooked it off. But there are a few unsecured shops right next door that would appeal to it,¡± explained Chris, climbing out of the car and grabbing his carbine and three magazines. ¡°We¡¯ll end there, just in case.¡± He shoved a magazine into his carbine and checked that the safety was on, pocketing the other two in his grey combat uniform.

    She nodded, letting him lead the way, pistol drawn just in case. The baton at her hip, dull black metal instead of the standard hard plastic, practically reeked of techie tinkering. If their feral attacked, it would be in for a rude awakening.

    The first building they came to was a boarded up shop, the sign long ago stolen or faded away. After testing the handle to find it locked, he motioned Delta to stand back. He shifted, body and everything on him turning to a pale blue liquid blob. Now free of pain receptors, he slammed into the door, breaking the lock and shoving it open.

    Nothing but dust greeted them. Chris popped back into human form with a brief shiver and raised his carbine, keeping an eye out for any sign of life. Delta followed, pistol similarly raised. Not more than ten steps in, however, nearby popping sounds cut through the still air, in the direction of the apartment building. He and Delta exchanged worried looks.

    ¡°That was gunfire,¡± he said.

 14: Spiral

    Chapter 14: Spiral

    Every time Olivia looked out, it took her a moment to recognize the city without the lights on. While distant towns and suburbs still had power, forming patches of soft light on the horizon, darkness shrouded most of the city. She tore her view away from the view from the roof of her apartment building and craned her neck up. Hey, I can see a couple stars. They¡¯re so pretty. The constant blaring of sirens all around broke the otherwise tranquil early morning, just before daybreak. She took a deep breath of fresh air, steeling herself for a trip to a familiar fetid dumpster, and headed back down the stairs.

    In the hour since she and Skulker had gone their separate ways for the night, she¡¯d finally tackled the task of cleaning up her only recently inhabited apartment. She¡¯d tucked in chunks of carpet torn by time or her own clawed feet where she could, moving an old rug from another apartment over a massive hole where she couldn¡¯t. Years of dust filled corners of her home. Old wrappers, nearly a dozen empty plastic water bottles, and more had piled up as she tried to figure out what to do with it all. What if I need the bottles for something else? But I guess if I haven¡¯t used any of this stuff by now I may as well get rid of it. But what if I need it? Maybe keep half. With a salvaged intact garbage bag in tow, she gathered up everything she didn¡¯t need or want in her apartment and headed downstairs to toss it out.

    The dumpster smelled exactly as foul as the day she¡¯d woken up behind it. Just as she tossed her trashbag, the rumbling of multiple engines caught her ear. A series of headlights approached, screeching to a halt on the street right in front of her building. She pulled back, getting the battered door closed just in time as a car door opened.

    They aren¡¯t the police. Why are they here? She hurried away, keeping her ears focused on the outside. Footsteps and hushed voices reached her.

    ¡°You see the scratches on this door? It¡¯s here,¡± said a husky woman¡¯s voice, barely above a whisper.

    ¡°Careful, there might be someone with it,¡± replied a different, male voice. The damaged door squealed as they forced it open.

    They¡¯re looking for me, she realized. Who are they? She ran as fast as her clawed feet would allow for the stairs, back to the relative safety of her apartment.

    ¡°There!¡± someone cried out before Olivia could get her tail through the doorway.

    She scrambled up the stairs, taking steps two at a time. A sudden, low boom shook the building, enough to trip her up. She dug her claws in and got moving again as she thought, Not my apartment, just a window. Fly. More booms in rapid succession rang out, getting closer. She tore through the first exit she could, the booms right behind her. A sudden impact threw Olivia off her feet, slamming her into the nearby wall. Half of her torso shattered the wood and drywall, leaving her partially embedded. Her eyes struggled to focus, dazed from the sudden hit.

    ¡°You find it, Tod?¡± called out a man¡¯s voice from down below.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Through the blur, she spied the brick of a man who¡¯d spoken across the hallway, filling the doorway to the stairs.

    Olivia placed a hand on the ruined wall and wrenched herself free of the wall, regaining a steady foothold. Dust and small chunks of rubble rained down, forcing her to duck her head down to keep her eyes clear. A low, threatening hiss escaped her throat in a desperate attempt to warn him off.

    ¡°Whoa, it¡¯s still moving. Get up here!¡±

    Her wings tried to spread, though her right wing was sore and bent at an odd angle. ¡°Go away!¡± she roared. This is my home.

    Despite the distance between them, Tod began to wind up a lazy punch. Then, a now familiar boom rang out and he shot forward, almost too quick to see. His fist slammed into the center of Olivia¡¯s chest and sent her careening through the already ruined wall. With another hiss, she hit the floor as pulverized wall dug into her. She rolled with the blow, managing to climb back to her feet as the man followed her through the new hole in the wall.

    He stared at her for a split second. ¡°Fucking die already!¡± She took another boom and a hit before she could get free.

    This time she bounced off a solid concrete wall. Her claws rolled under her feet instead of catching solid footing, bringing her down to her hands and knees. She ducked her head down, taking the next impact on her shoulders. Without anywhere to fling her, the man was now right beside her. She didn¡¯t know who he was, but she didn¡¯t care, this was his fault. Her hand swung out and caught the edge of his leg as a boom rang out and he pulled back. The iron smell of blood filled her nostrils. Shouting echoed in from the Olivia sized hole in the wall as she forced herself back onto her feet.

    A handful of people rushed into position, heavy rifles at the ready. Go away. The first bullet went wide, hitting the wall off to her left and ricocheting off with a spark. Most hit their mark with sharp strikes that knocked the wind out of her. Stop. She covered her face with a scaly hand and rushed for a window. Four steps away the gunfire petered off. Two steps away a fist slammed into the back of her knee, bringing her down a few feet from freedom.

    I can¡¯t run. The big man drove a hard kick into her chest, tossing her away from the window as the boom shattered the glass. Two bullets snapped through the air just above her head. She rolled to a stop, lungs burning as they struggled to take in air. One hand digging into the wall, she hauled herself to her feet, bracing herself. With a now familiar boom, he shot forward, slamming into her shoulder. Rather than simply take the blow, she pushed into it.

    Something broke.

    His arm bent in the middle of the forearm as she shoved into his fist with her shoulder. Her sheer mass slammed into him, knocking him aside. With her heart pounding in her ears, she continued her charge towards the others. They reacted almost in slow motion, only a few shots hitting her before she closed the gap. Survival took over, and they abandoned their ruined wall, their few parting shots going wide.

    One man didn¡¯t dodge out of the way fast enough, blocked in the hallway by the backs of his retreating friends. Her claws dug into the side of his gut, hooking him in and slamming him against the wall. He crumpled to the ground, unmoving. With the sound of his cut-short scream, others found their nerves. The nearest man spun around, finger pulling on the trigger with wild abandon. One bullet caught her in the side of the neck, leaving her choking with a half-clogged windpipe. Another of the attackers grabbed the unmoving man by the back of his collar and began dragging him away. By the time she hacked and coughed her throat clear, all she was left with was a series of shut doors and a blood smear along the floor.

    She wiped a lock of sweaty hair out of her face with the back of her hand. Attackers were still here, hiding. She could hear them. Smell them. Someone spoke, voice hushed and frantic, behind a door at the far end of the building. The smell of fresh sweat and blood oozed from the crack below. She shoved her claws into the old wood and ripped it off its hinges, tossing it aside.

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    For her efforts she received a bullet to the shoulder and bicep, forcing her out the doorway. With a snarl she tried to push in again, only to be forced back by yet more bullets. Frustration boiled over in her with the smell of attackers so close. The third try only one bullet hit her, before the shots stopped entirely. Two attackers knelt at the far end of the room with the injured one laying behind them, fumbling with their weapons. She charged, long strides closing the distance before the attackers could do more than cry out.

    A familiar scent caught her nose as she towered over the attackers with an overhead blow. She turned and dug her claws deep into the floor, just in time to catch the boom and hit that would have sent her careening back. An uppercut caught her in the chin, sending her rocketing into the ceiling. Her wings flailed out, failing to deaden the fall as she collapsed back on the ground at the big man¡¯s feet.

    Her hand slammed into the floor just inches behind his bloody calf as he withdrew. Another attacker kicked her across the back of her head from the other side. It didn¡¯t hurt too much, so she ignored it to keep watch on the big one. He kept his distance with her eyes on him, stepping to the side while cradling his crooked left arm. Another step would take him out of her sight from her vantage point on the ground, and a second kick to the head didn¡¯t help her concentration.

    She ducked her head and rolled over, the attackers shouting something to each other. The one kicking her stumbled out of her way. She took a boom and hit on the shoulder once more and continued rising to her feet, until a metallic click caught her ear. The third attacker held a rifle at her chest point blank and fired. From five feet away they couldn¡¯t miss, and they didn¡¯t spare the trigger.

    Her hand flailed out as she spasmed in pain, a claw catching a flute in the barrel¡¯s edge. She pulled in and grabbed the rifle with a roar, shoving it in any direction other than hers. The armed attacker pushed back, the other two jumping in and throwing themselves on her other arm. She lunged forward against all of them, biting into the throat and twisting head as she withdrew. As the gun fell to the floor, her tail lashed out and caught an attacker in the hip, knocking them back.

    She turned towards the big one, hands wrapped around her arm but frozen. Her gaze jolted him into action. Her free hand shot out and her claws raked deep into his already broken arm. He pulled back before they could get too deep, though blood poured from the wound.

    Reeking of desperation, the man ducked low and to the side. As she spun towards him, he lunged forward with a boom, shoulder checking her in the gut. Instead of hitting another wall, or stumbling on clawed feet to the ground, glass shattered around her as she burst through the window he¡¯d put at her back. Wings and limbs flailed as she grabbed at air.

    The pavement knocked the breath out of her. Bits of broken glass rained down around her. Wrath pushed her through the pain and onto her feet once more, the smell of more attackers in her nostrils. Two more stood before her dressed in grey, saying something. She roared and charged the bigger one.

    Just as her hand reached him, he exploded into some strange, light blue goo, her claws carving harmlessly through. The goo flowed around her on its own accord and engulfed her head. She thrashed against the suffocation, her leg spasming as something painful thrust into it with a shock. Lungs burning, vision fading as the air ran out, she slashed at the goo, even as she lost her balance and toppled to the ground. The world went black.

    ***

    Flashing lights hit her eyes, dragging her back to consciousness. Loose gravel from the asphalt dug into the back of her skull. She hurt all over, as if people had been beating her with chains for several hours. There was a strange taste in her mouth. She could hear and smell people near, very near. She tried to roll over away from them, her movements clumsy and slow.

    They weren¡¯t shooting or hitting. Just talking, clearly and urgently. ¡°We¡¯ll give this one last try.¡±

    Where am I? Who am I? ¡°Nonononono, not again,¡± she mumbled. Not again? ¡°No, I woke up¡­ a couple weeks ago. I got food. I got some weird¡­ monster body. Some people found me. Feral. Olivia. That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s my name.¡±

    Then she remembered people talking. She looked over to the source of the voices. There stood a bulky man and a figure in grey riot gear, just watching. The earliest morning rays broke the horizon behind them.

    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Olivia, attempting to stand on wobbling limbs. The arm she was pushing up with stopped cooperating and she collapsed. The bruises covering her chest ached with every move.

    ¡°Easy, easy! Can you hear us? Can you understand us?¡± replied the man. Through clumps of sweaty hair, she focused her tired eyes on them. Both kept their distance from Olivia, hands on weapons and shoulders hunched and wary. She got herself upright, wings splayed to either side.

    ¡°Yes, I understand.¡± I can hear, I can understand, Olivia thought, more for her own benefit than theirs. ¡°What happened?¡± she repeated.

    ¡°A group of people were attacking you in there,¡± he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at a familiar apartment building. ¡°Then you took a swing at us.¡±

    Did I? Olivia stared at him blankly, then to the woman. She looked down at herself. Her hands were a muddy red. They should be green. Right? ¡°What? Who are you?¡±

    ¡°My name is Nomad,¡± replied the man, slowly and clearly despite the blue bandana covering everything below his eyes. ¡°This is Delta. We¡¯re with the MHU.¡± Nomad knelt beside her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get close,¡± said Delta, her voice hushed.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s blood on her mouth and chin.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± he replied.

    There is? She scratched at her chin with a tentative claw, feeling something flake off. How did¡­

    Nomad placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, agitating a massive bruise there. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to figure out what happened here and get this mess sorted out,¡± he said, right up to the point Olivia doubled over and vomited.

    She would have fallen over had Nomad not grabbed a hold of her. She was busy trying and failing to form some sort of coherent thought, there was only static in her mind. Eventually, other cop cars pulled up, along with a massive metal van. Out came about a dozen armored figures in grey.

    A blur of people and talking swirled past Olivia, keeping a healthy distance. Four of the cops formed a semicircle around her twenty paces away, with her back to the van. They, too, didn¡¯t shoot, though their hands never left their rifles and their eyes never left her. Delta peeled off to join the newcomers as most went into Olivia¡¯s apartment building. Nomad kept by Olivia¡¯s side the whole time talking. The words were calm, though they got lost in the haze. She pulled her knees in under her arms, keeping out of the way and out of sight as much as possible.

    Another cop, a heavyset man, approached. ¡°Nomad, that thing alright? Not giving you any problems?¡± he asked in a booming voice. One of the cops watching Olivia jumped with that voice in his ear.

    ¡°No, Bob,¡± replied Nomad.

    ¡°Good. Get over here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back,¡± he said to Olivia. He got up, brushed the dirt off his knee, and joined the man who¡¯d called him past the semicircle.

    The two retreated a good distance away. Olivia looked up, focusing on what they were saying. ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to walk me through the short version. What the fuck just happened here,¡± said the other cop, Bob.

    ¡°We were checking out a few places of interest Delta had marked. We heard shots fired, investigated, and the feral was tossed out the building. We restrained her, you got here,¡± explained Nomad.

    ¡°And why do we now have an unstable feral to deal with?¡± asked Bob, his voice a strange mix of patience and fury. Olivia pulled her limbs in tighter at the sound.

    ¡°Sir?¡±

    ¡°Do we have any way to guarantee our safety with that thing up and moving? Solid Tod was here, and he hits like a truck. It looks like he got the feral at least twice, and it¡¯s not a grease smear on the side of a wall. Do you think that van of ours can hold it if it wants to get out? And what will happen to all the squishy people in the way, us included, if that happens?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s good now.¡±

    ¡°Do you know that or do you hope that? Look me in the eye,¡± demanded Bob. ¡°What kind of guarantee can you give me we¡¯re not all in danger here? Actually, now that I think about it, why were you sitting right in claw range of the damn thing?¡±

    Nomad replied, ¡°I was talking with her. That¡¯s what you do with someone with new powers. Deescalate.¡±

    ¡°Deescalate before it rips apart two people with its bare hands. Did you go in there yet? It¡¯s a bloody massacre.¡±

    ¡°But it worked. She¡¯s just sitting there right now.¡±

    ¡°You got damn lucky. Damn lucky. For all you knew, that could have gotten your throat ripped out too.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem right,¡± said Nomad, voice quiet. ¡°To just kill her while she¡¯s out like that.¡±

    ¡°Between you and her, choose you,¡± replied Bob, the anger gone from his voice. ¡°I would choose you. Delta, Jeremiah, all of us. And it¡¯s not all about you. Without you there¡¯d have been nothing between that feral and Delta.¡± Nomad¡¯s back stiffened, and Bob raised a hand. ¡°Later. It¡¯s alive, and our job was to get it alive. Let¡¯s get out of here. You¡¯re the only one I can put close to it until we can get Cyrus on the horn.¡±

 15: USMHD

    Chapter 15: USMHD

    A shiver ran through Olivia. The cold metal of the wall of the van kept her on the edge of her bench opposite Nomad. The silence, save for the rumble of the engine, only made the piercing sourceless ringing in her ears all the more noticeable. Since the attack, nothing about her seemed to work. Moving hurt her bullet bruises, her joints ached with every jostle from the van, and her brain struggled to concentrate, buzzing between awful possibility to awful possibility.

    She snuck a glance at Nomad, the only other person she could see in the van. A dark blue bandana wrapped across his face, just below the eyes. He pulled off his grey camo cap, matching the rest of his combat fatigues, and ran a hand through sweaty blonde hair. She flinched at the sight of the short rifle on a strap across his chest.

    After a couple minutes of otherwise silent driving, one of the officers up front called out, ¡°Everything alright back there?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re good,¡± called out Nomad in response. To Olivia he asked, ¡°How are you holding up?¡±

    Olivia hugged her arms tighter around herself. Bad. Does he care? The other officer seemed mad at him for not hurting me more. ¡°I¡¯m still here,¡± mumbled Olivia, staring at her feet. She was silent for another minute, gathering her thoughts, then asked, ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

    She took a deep breath. ¡°Weren¡¯t you looking for me too? Like the guys who attacked?¡±

    His head rocked back a bit. ¡°We were looking for you, yeah. But to help, not murder you.¡±

    ¡°Help? The same police that are with animal control, hunting me down?¡± asked Olivia. Why all the guns? Wait, because I¡¯m a monster.

    Nomad focused on the hat in his hands for a moment. ¡°Have you seen someone with animal control here?¡± he asked. Only the police. After she shook her head, he continued, ¡°I won¡¯t claim I¡¯ve been exactly where you are right now, but I¡¯ve been close. You aren¡¯t the first person to get powers and panic.¡±

    ¡°Everyone is scared of me,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°People would be forgiving but you¡¯re a feral,¡± said Nomad with a weary shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but that seems wrong, dismissing someone out of hand like that.¡±

    They shifted in their seats a bit as the van slowed. She could hear sirens everywhere, though there were no windows in the back of the van to see where they were.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± called out the driver.

    Nomad put his hat back on and straightened up. ¡°Alright, there¡¯s going to be a lot of people. You¡¯ll get out first. Just stay calm, and we¡¯ll get this sorted out.¡±

    Olivia nodded, fighting back the churning feeling in her stomach. I don¡¯t have much of a choice, do I? The van came to a stop, and with a heavy metallic thunk the back doors opened. She found herself greeted by a good dozen MHU officers in the same grey camo as Nomad, watching her like hawks from a distance. Olivia ducked her head down to attract less attention.

    She found herself in a cavernous room with nearly a dozen vans, identical to the one that had brought her in, lined up down the center. A few people in rugged oil stained jumpsuits instead of the camo of the officers gawked from a wall covered in equipment on the far wall. A pair of officers broke off to coral them out of the room. Delta rejoined them as the other officers milled around in confusion.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t Processing. Why¡¯d they drop us off here?¡± asked Delta.

    ¡°Something¡¯s going on,¡± replied Nomad. He turned and called out to the van driver over the engine, ¡°Why are we in the garage?¡±

    The driver leaned out of the window and shrugged. ¡°HQ told us to. Processing is still under renovation.¡± Olivia stiffened. They keep saying that. What is Processing?

    From across the room, Olivia could hear Bob, barking into a phone, ¡°What do you mean it¡¯s still being worked on? They were supposed to finish that months ago!¡± She couldn¡¯t hear the other cop¡¯s response through the ringing in her ears, but Bob¡¯s voice boomed out, ¡°It¡¯s already over budget, what are we paying for? Fine, we¡¯ll put her in a normal room.¡±

    ¡°A normal room?¡± asked Olivia.

    Delta looked to her, then Bob, still arguing over the phone. ¡°You could hear that?¡± she asked. Olivia nodded. I guess he was too far away for her.

    ¡°He might be talking about a temporary room,¡± replied Nomad. To Olivia he said, ¡°Processing is just slang for registering a new meta-human. We¡¯ll give you a room while we file the MHD paperwork.¡± He noticed her confusion. ¡°The USMHD is the United States Meta-Human Department. It¡¯s mostly paperwork, like I said. There are a million laws you can run into with powers. We¡¯re not throwing you into a pit or anything. It¡¯s for your protection as much as ours.¡±

    Why is everyone being so vague? I¡¯m stupid, there¡¯s probably something I don¡¯t know. Olivia nodded along. I guess Nomad knows. He¡¯s OK. Bob gave a signal, and half of the officers with Nomad and Delta led her through a series of hallways. She ducked to keep her wings from smacking into the solid concrete walls and ceiling. The sheer weight and presence of the building pressed in on her, the usual noises of the city completely cut off.

    Finally, they came to an open door. Inside lay a clear, neat room, with a bed, desk, and TV built into the wall. Bob motioned for her to go in, saying, ¡°You¡¯ll wait here until we call you for questioning.¡±

    She hesitantly moved forward, then stopped in the doorway. Half turning, she asked, ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± he grunted curiously.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be sent to a lab or something, right?¡± she asked, stumbling over the words.

    Confusion briefly crossed Bob¡¯s face, but he responded, ¡°It¡¯s not for me to say.¡± With that he motioned to the room again.

    Nomad leaned in and tapped a panel on the inside of the room. ¡°Just give us a shout if you need anything. I¡¯ll see if we can find a change of clothes that will fit you.¡±

    The door slid closed behind her with a deep, metallic clunk. Now alone, Olivia let out a shaky breath, tension she didn¡¯t realize was there releasing from her shoulders. The lack of dust in the new room caught her off guard. The bed, the desk, everything was clean and neat, like nothing she¡¯d seen before. Despite that, she couldn¡¯t help but notice the lack of windows, or the locked door behind her. On autopilot, Olivia headed in the direction of the walled off section to find a small bathroom with a shower. The smell of cleaning chemicals in a confined space made her eyes water, but the mirror above the sink gave her a good look at herself.

    Bullet holes riddled her shirt, with the occasional splatter of dried reddish-brown blood. She poked at an isolated hole on her side, and flinched when she aggravated an ugly black and blue bruise on her rib. The shirt was originally plain green with some small company logo on it, but was now a mixture of green and blood, and her mouth¡­ She dry heaved in the direction of the toilet, but managed to keep it down. She grabbed a towel, soaked it in the sink, and scrubbed with all her strength, not daring to look at the mirror again until finished.

    I should get clean. Get everything clean. Olivia spat out a few strands of towel caught on her shark teeth, then stripped off her ruined clothes and stumbled into the shower. After poking at the unfamiliar controls and getting a blast of ice water to the chest for her troubles, she got the thing working and warm. Streaks of brown ran into the drain as weeks of grime washed off of her.

    Now what? Something gnawed at the pit of her stomach, far worse than when she had stolen food and clothes. Who did I kill? Did they deserve it? How could I even do something like that? She leaned against the wall with her shoulder with her head hanging low, in part to get her hair wet, in part out of lack of energy. Why am I not crying? I should be crying, shouldn¡¯t I? Is something else wrong with me?

    It only dawned on Olivia to exit the shower once a tingling sensation spread under the scales on her hands and feet. After drying off, she lifted her bloodied rag of a shirt. I don¡¯t want to wear this again. She wrapped the towel around herself as best she could and poked her head into the main room. A soft green light shone above a panel set into a wall near the door. Inside the panel she found a t-shirt and khaki pants, which after cutting managed to be both too wide and too short, but beat the towel.

    According to the small digital clock on the stand next to the bed, she wound up waiting about an hour. At one point she tried to stretch her wings, only to smack against the walls halfway through. The soft clean bed did have appeal, but the strange chemical and oil smell of the cell kept her pacing and agitated. What are they going to do? What¡¯s Ben doing? Am I going to a lab? Maybe that would be better for everyone. I wouldn¡¯t be able to hurt anyone there.

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    She jumped at the sound of a beep from over the door. It opened a few moments later to reveal three armored officers, including Nomad. He¡¯d removed his bandana, revealing a square jaw that completed a blocky head. He gave her a nod and asked, ¡°Feeling better?

    What am I supposed to say? She nodded back. That¡¯s what he does. I guess that seems right.

    Once it became clear she had nothing to add, he asked, ¡°Would you come with us? We¡¯d like a record of your time in the city so far.¡±

    She mutely complied. They led her through the maze once more. At some point, the concrete walls opened a bit, looming less and allowing her to walk without stooping over to accommodate her wings. They came to a stop in a well lit concrete room with a metal table in the center, with two chairs on either side. A black glass window took up the wall to the left. They indicated she should take the far seat, then two of the officers left, leaving Nomad standing at the door.

    Five minutes passed in awkward silence. Olivia fidgeted nervously on the edge of her seat. Stupid backrest. She could hear faint murmurs from outside the room, occasionally rising in volume, then falling again. Finally, the door opened and in walked a tan, middle aged man with a long dark beard. Her brow furrowed as something made her hackles rise.

    He introduced himself as he sat across from her, ¡°Good afternoon. My name is Cyrus. I¡¯m here to ask you some questions. For the record, please state your name.¡± He opened a folder on the table before them and pulled out a few sheets of paper.

    ¡°Olivia.¡± He seemed to be waiting for something else. She fixed her eyes on the desk in front of him. ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± It took her a moment to recognize what felt off about him. After the whirlwind of the last few hours, the calm he radiated struck her. His heart beat slowly, regularly, his breathing the same. Maybe I just haven¡¯t met anyone who is calm. Everyone is always moving and shouting. Why is he so weird though? He smells normal.

    He nodded and said, ¡°We would like your account of the events this morning.¡±

    I killed people. ¡°Um, OK,¡± she said, thinking of what to say. She mumbled out what she could remember, as best she could. Cyrus listened without reaction, interrupting only to ask short clarifying questions.

    ¡°What were you doing in that building in the first place?¡± he asked, once she stammered to a halt.

    ¡°I lived there.¡±

    He pulled out a piece of paper from the back of his folder and started at it for a moment. As the silence stretched on, Olivia glanced at Nomad, who let a brief look of confusion cross his face at Cyrus. Finally, he asked, ¡°Are you familiar with the experiments of the Italian?¡± She blinked. What? ¡°I can¡¯t seem to remember his name, never mind. Of all places in the city, why live there?¡±

    Once Olivia recovered from the whiplash from the first nonsense question, she replied, ¡°It was there.¡± He paused, eyes narrowing. Did I say something wrong? ¡°I mean, when I woke up,¡± she added.

    He nodded, accepting her explanation. Olivia flinched slightly, eyes still firmly planted on the desk. After a quick glance at his papers, he asked, ¡°You woke up there. How long ago do you remember? We know some strange things happen to feral minds.¡±

    He ran through a battery of questions with her, most the same as the ones Skulker had done a few days ago. No, I don¡¯t remember anything. No, not even names and faces or anything else. Yes, I got my name from a newspaper. Sorry.

    ¡°No. I kind of¡­ learned everything from scratch. Or relearned, I guess,¡± she said. I know, I¡¯m weird.

    ¡°Why hide, instead of trying to find help?¡±

    Because look at me. She managed to mumble, ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know. I didn¡¯t¡­didn¡¯t know what¡­was going on.¡± Why am I stammering so much? ¡°I don¡¯t want¡­to be dissected or anything.¡± Shut up, I should just shut up.

    ¡°Have you ever been to the Balkans?¡±

    Previous thoughts cast aside, she looked up and asked, ¡°What?¡±

    He nodded, as if the question and her answer made an ounce of sense. ¡°That¡¯s right, no. Good. You weren¡¯t completely by yourself though. I¡¯m given to understand that you had an accomplice, correct? Someone else with you?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Be-¡± she cut herself off. I shouldn¡¯t tell them his name, right? ¡°I mean, Skulker was there, sometimes.¡±

    ¡°Would you mind explaining who that is.¡±

    ¡°Um, a vigilante?¡± That¡¯s the word he used, right?

    ¡°What were you doing with him?¡±

    ¡°He said¡­ said that there was a bad guy, and I could help him, Skulker, stop him, the bad guy.¡±

    ¡°And you just did?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ don¡¯t know. I thought it was, you know, the right thing to do.¡± They were trying to hurt people.

    ¡°Are you aware that your attackers from this morning were part of that gang?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± I guess that makes sense though. They got angry.

    ¡°Did any of your attackers have any powers?¡± he asked. ¡°Any abilities out of the ordinary?¡± Why is he talking weird and formal?

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Could you describe them?¡±

    ¡°I told someone this already. Right?¡±

    ¡°We already have Nomad¡¯s testimony. We need a record from you, though.¡±

    Record? It¡¯s the same thing. He probably said it better, too. ¡°OK. Um¡­the Tod guy. He hit me a couple times. He moved really fast when he did. I think I hit him back though.¡± And he screamed and, no, no.

    ¡°Solid Tod hit you?¡± asked Cyrus, bringing her back to reality.

    ¡°A couple of times,¡± she replied. ¡°Um¡­three or four times, I think. It hurt.¡±

    ¡°Could you describe him? If you saw a picture of him could you identify him?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t remember it too well.¡±

    Cyrus remained silent for a moment. I messed up something didn¡¯t I? Olivia looked around, but found nothing helpful in the featureless walls of the interrogation room. Nomad shifted around since Cyrus¡¯ nonsense questions, though he¡¯d remained completely silent the whole time. Does he want to say something?

    Olivia took a deep breath, readying herself. ¡°Um, excuse me, um, Cyrus?¡±

    She waited until he said, ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°What¡­ exactly, is going to happen now?¡±

    Cyrus seemed to consider his words. ¡°I will advise that you receive no charges, you fall under current USMHD guidance despite the nature of your power. You will need to register in their system, but I''ll confess I have no idea what forms will be applicable to you.¡±

    OK, that¡¯s not so bad.

    He continued, ¡°You will be sent to the feral institute in Houston.¡± Nononononono. ¡°There you can receive medical care, safety, and education.¡± Institute? Isn¡¯t that a fancy lab?

    It took Olivia a moment to find her voice. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± What if they get angry? ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡­ I would like that.¡±

    ¡°The Department helps new meta-humans test their powers. Additionally, you would be well cared for. No squatting in an abandoned old apartment. We might be able to figure out your past and real name.¡±

    But it doesn¡¯t sound like he¡¯s giving me a choice. She glanced at the door. I don¡¯t want to get shot again. ¡°OK,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°Good. I believe we are done here, if you have no more questions for me.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Nomad will see you back to your room.¡± With that, Cyrus rose and exited the room.

    Olivia followed Nomad out with heavy footsteps. What am I doing? The two other officers from before followed after them. I¡¯m going to a lab.

    ¡°Nomad, you stay here,¡± called out a curt voice from around the corner.

    Nomad grunted softly. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you when I get that over with. It¡¯s not as bad as it sounds.¡± He hurried off, leaving Olivia with her two guards. She trudged after them. I¡¯m going to a lab. The hallways twisted and turned, leading her deeper into the tomb. They returned to her room, a cell for all intents and purposes.

    ¡°Here you go,¡± said one of the officers.

    A thud shook Olivia and her guards, the solid walls of the building vibrating from some impact. The air tugged at her wings, half outstretched from surprise. A dull roar built up in her ears, growing closer and closer. She dug in and covered her face just in time for a wall of air to slam into them. The guards were thrown off their feet and sent tumbling ten feet down the hallway. Olivia found herself forced to take a step to keep her balance.

    One of the guards groaned and rolled over. What was that? Olivia looked at them and the open cell door. I don¡¯t want to go to a lab. The other struggled to get back to his feet. What do I do? What if they get mad? The one on the ground coughed out some of the dust that the air had kicked up. I need to do something.

    ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡± The guards noticed her line of sight as they got their bearings. ¡°Fuck! Stop!¡± they yelled out as she took off. She thundered through the halls, heedless of her wings smacking into walls and an unfortunate fire extinguisher. A gunshot went off right as she rounded a corner, sending a bullet ricocheting off the walls and away. They¡¯re mad.

    She sniffed the air once she got some distance from the guards, following the smell of fresh air. Shouts and alarms filled the air. Another rumble filled the building, though this time not accompanied by a shockwave. She backtracked as best she could from where they¡¯d brought her in from, though she took more than one turn into a dead end. At one point, she found a shattered window with a set of bars she couldn''t budge. Finally, she burst through a door and found herself in the vehicle bay where the van had brought her in.

    The bay was nearly abandoned, save for a van idling near the one open garage door. The sirens shrieked louder here. On the other end of the room, the double doors burst open. Olivia and Nomad stared at each other, the panic on his face mirroring her own.

    ¡°Get in!¡± yelled Delta, leaning out of the open window of the idling van and waving to Nomad. She¡¯s here too? Why is she here? What¡¯s going on?

    Nomad didn¡¯t hesitate, sprinting for the back of the van. Olivia followed a moment later. They piled in, Nomad slamming the door shut behind them. He scrambled up to the front of the van and rammed his fist on the panel in the front. It slid down to reveal Delta in the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Go!¡± yelled Nomad.

    Delta jumped at the sight of Olivia. ¡°Is she going to try to kill us?¡±

    No! Nomad glanced at Olivia. ¡°No.¡±

    Delta shrugged and gunned the engine, pulling out of the garage doors. Nomad groaned as he leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his hair. ¡°Marcus shot Cyrus in the head. He was coming for me next.¡± Oh god.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± said Delta.

    Nomad stared at the back of her head, jaw slack and eyes distant. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. He got back up.¡±

    ¡°Cyrus?¡± asked Delta.

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°You just said he got shot in the head,¡± she replied, bewildered. Olivia tucked in her tail and wings as best she could, head whipping back and forth between the two cops as they spoke.

    ¡°I know. He did. He got back up.¡±

    Delta took her eyes off the road to face Nomad. ¡°He just controls air. He doesn¡¯t have a freaky resurrection power.¡± Air? Did he do that to the building? He didn¡¯t seem worried about me.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. Jeremiah yelled out something about resisting. I didn¡¯t get a good look, they were putting me in cuffs too. I turned around and saw Cyrus get up with half his skull missing. He told everyone to run and I didn¡¯t argue.¡±

    ¡°He said something was going to go down when we came back, and that I should keep a van ready. I didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be shot. He didn¡¯t say anything about Marcus going off the deep end.¡±

    Delta nodded. ¡°He said that would happen. Marcus freaking out, I mean.¡±

    ¡°They were yelling about you,¡± said Nomad.

    ¡°I bet,¡± replied Delta. Instead of elaborating further, she said, ¡°I¡¯ve got a place we can go.¡±

    ¡°Did you do it?¡± Nomad asked, voice dead serious. Olivia felt her hands open, revealing claws. What is going on? With everything? Why is the crazy guy dead? And not dead? And Delta is here? Why was he crazy? He seemed important, how does someone crazy get important?

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°They said you were leaking info. That you were messing with HQ computers.¡±

    ¡°No and yes. I wiped my workstation when Cyrus tipped me off and-¡±

    A bright flash struck the front of the van, leaving it a molten crater. Someone screamed, or perhaps all of them, as Delta lost control of the van and it flipped.

 16: This Just In

    Chapter 16: This Just In

    Delta tossed her belt on the desk and slumped in her workshop chair with an exhausted sigh. The temptation to steal some sleep weighed on her, though events with the brand new schizophrenic feral they¡¯d just brought in would pass her by if she did. Nomad had left to keep the feral calm, leaving Delta alone to fill out MHU paperwork. She¡¯d given her verbal report as soon as they¡¯d come back, all that was left was to see what the powers on high would decide. I can¡¯t wait for this to be over with.

    The whole situation reeked of strange-ness. Sanchez¡¯s gang somehow beat them to the feral. The feral went from berserk to curling into a terrified ball after a quick nap. The MHU had no prepared cell or anything to deal with the feral once they got it, despite dealing with powers being their sole reason to exist. We¡¯re missing something. Or I¡¯m missing something, and someone else is keeping it from me.

    A curt knock on the door grabbed her attention. Cyrus walked in uninvited as Delta spun in her chair. ¡°Back from your feral hunt. How are you doing?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Good,¡± she replied, not bothering with anything more. The whole MHU meandered in confusion, the head had to take blame at some point. Instead of taking charge here he was, wasting time on a techie only barely related to the feral in the building.

    ¡°Were you aware that Lock Corp. has opened a new office in Westward? Only a block away, in fact.¡± Delta froze, thinking, Wait, when the fuck did this happen? Cyrus gave her a look, fully noticing her reaction. ¡°I know that it is a bit of a personal matter, but it would be remiss of me not to let you know.¡±

    Admit nothing. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°You doubt the word of the head of the city¡¯s MHU?¡± He gave her a small, rueful smile. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be the first. Or has that not happened yet? Regardless, there is a reason I¡¯m telling you this.¡±

    ¡°I have nothing to do with Lock Corp. What are you-¡±

    He leaned forward. ¡°Miss Lafitte, we have precious little time. I am trying to help you, unless you simply play coy.¡±

    Delta leaned back in her chair, considering her options. Her baton lay on the desk attached to her belt, a mere foot away from her tense hand. I can¡¯t just zap him and dump his body somewhere. Her eyes briefly flickered towards the door, though Cyrus blocked the way, intentionally or not. I can¡¯t run and I¡¯m flying blind. ¡°You knew,¡± she probed.

    ¡°Recently learned,¡± he corrected. ¡°As did Marcus and the quartermaster. And that is the problem.¡±

    Something about his word choice struck her. ¡°Not me?¡± she asked.

    ¡°No. Though Marcus very much thinks it is.¡±

    ¡°What does Marcus have to do with this?¡± asked Delta.

    ¡°A little bird, is that the phrase? A little bird told me a warrant will be out for your arrest from a judge today, for espionage for Lock Corp. against the MHU and US government. Marcus fully intends to carry it out.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insane.¡± I have gone out of my way to avoid doing exactly that. It¡¯s an arrest warrant, not a death penalty, but they¡¯ve already started digging. Is this why everything is confused?

    ¡°Is it? Why were Sanchez¡¯ men exactly where you thought the feral would be? That, and you are constantly disgruntled,¡± replied Cyrus. Delta studied his serene face as best she could, seeing nothing other than placid anticipation of her answer. Is he trying to drag me down with him? Fuck it, I¡¯ve got to get out of here anyways. If he knows, others can figure it out.

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I would be rather disappointed if you didn¡¯t have a contingency for this exact situation.¡± Of course he knows. How much can I give away? She nodded, volunteering nothing else. ¡°I believe there will be a few other scapegoats. Gather them in the garage, if we scatter we are doomed.¡± With that, he strode out of the room.

    Delta found herself sweating in a corner of the garage, pretending to look busy for the pair of mechanics also in the room. Nope, I¡¯m not suspicious at all. Just an engineer, doing engineer things. The fact that I just nuked my workshop is not suspicious. Nope, nope, nope.

    She and Cyrus had agreed on no signal, no hidden communication of any kind. The entire headquarters shaking from a shockwave of air and everyone running for cover did, however, tip her off to get moving. With keys to a van she¡¯d grabbed, she pulled up to an open garage door and waited, hands locked onto the wheel. Hurry up, whoever you are, I don¡¯t want to be here a nanosecond longer than I have to.

    The double doors to the garage shot open as Nomad charged in like a demon was chasing him. Huh, he looks like what Cyrus was talking about. Of course it was the new hires who got blamed. Delta leaned out of the window, grabbing his attention from something across the room. ¡°Get in!¡± He jumped in the back, followed by a second set of footsteps. Who is that?

    The sound of a metallic thud rang out as Nomad slammed into the panel separating Delta from the back of the van. She twisted around, nearly jumping out of her skin when she noticed the feral also in the back alongside him, sitting down as if this were the most normal thing in the world. ¡°Go!¡± he yelled.

    ¡°Is she going to try to kill us?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he replied as the feral flinched away. Fine, whatever. Does she even have a name? I don¡¯t think she¡¯s ever said anything to me.

    Delta gunned the engine, peeling up the ramp and out of HQ. Nomad filled her in on what happened in her absence, the feral sitting in silence in the back. Cyrus got himself shot but shrugged it off. Marcus smelled a rat and went scorched earth.

    Without warning, a bright flash struck the front of the van. The wheel spun in Delta¡¯s hands, and the van flipped as she lost control. She slammed against the door as her whole world spun, the shriek of metal drowning all else out. It took her eyes to adjust once movement stopped. Blood rushed to her head, and the late afternoon sun appeared below what should have been the horizon. She released her seat-belt, ignoring the rapidly forming bruise on her hip and shoulder where it yanked at her through her armor, and checked on the others in the back.

    Light blue greeted her eyes. Nomad had burst into goo, saving him from the tumble. A pounding on the door next to her pulled her back.

    ¡°Hey, wanna talk to you,¡± barked out a voice outside the van. Fuck. Now what? Delta wrestled with gravity, trying to free her baton. ¡°Don¡¯t try it.¡± Delta found herself face to face with a leering, grinning mask of gunmetal grey, along with a pistol aimed at her chest. Delta froze. Smiley mask. Skulker, I think. Vigilante. ¡°You know anythin¡¯ about a feral? Big girl? Quiet? Y¡¯all brought her in this mornin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she replied.

    They both paused at the sound of rumbling hissing. The van jostled as metal shrieked and broke. Is the feral going insane again?

    ¡°That was easy.¡± Skulker leaned up, out of Delta¡¯s view, and called out, ¡°Hey, Olivia, havin¡¯ a day?¡±

    The feral, Olivia, finally spoke in something other than incoherent hissing or whispers, ¡°What?¡± Delta got back to freeing her baton. Skulker couldn¡¯t see her at the moment, but she could see his gun, now pointed at the ground in front of her. When he convulses, his hand will clench, pulling the trigger. I¡¯ll have five to ten seconds to move.

    ¡°What¡¯cha doin¡¯? Let him go an¡¯ let¡¯s get outta here.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s hurt. They¡¯re helping me.¡± Delta adjusted herself, readying the shock baton and getting out of the way of the gun.

    ¡°Really? You sure?¡± he asked.

    Delta struck, thrusting the tip of the shock baton into his thigh. He let out a choked shout as every one of his muscles tensed. His pistol fired, the bullet slamming into the asphalt. Delta jumped half out of the broken van window as Skulker fell, diving on his gun hand. Just as she began prying it from his stiff fingers, something sharp grabbed her by the collar and lifted her off Skulker and the ground.

    ¡°Stop!¡± said Olivia placing herself between Delta and the vigilante. She wore what looked like old, extra large MHU fatigues, a trade up from the bloody rags when Delta had seen her last.

    This lunatic tried to kill us! Delta reached in vain for her baton, dropped so she could wrestle with the gun now on the ground beside Skulker. Nomad appeared beside Olivia. ¡°Put her down. Everyone, stop,¡± he said. ¡°You too, Delta.¡±

    With a groan, Skulker climbed back to his feet. To Nomad¡¯s credit, he¡¯d put his foot on the loose gun, instead of assuming everyone would just listen. Delta didn¡¯t immediately dive for her baton the moment Olivia set her gently down.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he asked the vigilante.

    ¡°Lookin¡¯ for her. She seems alright though,¡± replied Skulker. ¡°Fuck that sucked,¡± he grumbled under his breath, rubbing his thigh.

    ¡°Great. We¡¯re in broad daylight, so maybe we should all stop fighting out here before the MHU catches up to us,¡± explained Nomad. Delta looked around, spotting a couple parked cars down the street, their drivers looking out at them with phones out.

    ¡°Only reason we ain¡¯t gettin¡¯ swamped already is cuz they look busy.¡± Skulker pointed back at HQ. A column of dust drifted in the air, towering above the cracked concrete dome of the building. Did Cyrus do that? ¡°I¡¯ve got a ride if we got a place to be.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Delta looked over their van. Skulker had, somehow, reduced the engine block to a molten, twisted crater. This isn¡¯t going anywhere. ¡°I¡¯ve got a place we can lay low,¡± said Delta. I guess we were heading there anyways.

    Skulker led them off through a side alley to an old green jeep. Delta squeezed in the back, pressed between Olivia and the door. Olivia noticed her wing shoved in her face and twisted, giving her some room. The jeep started with a rattle, and Skulker drove them to Delta¡¯s safe house. They skirted around the street with their ruined van, then headed west, toward the mountains.

    Olivia leaned forward after a minute. ¡°Um, Be-, I mean, Skulker, how did you find us?¡± she asked, her voice barely audible over the engine.

    ¡°Cops put out a presser. Said they caught you,¡± replied Skulker. His accent sounded vaguely mid-Atlantic, though with how fast he talked Delta couldn¡¯t tell for certain.

    ¡°So you were just going to attack the MHU?¡± asked Delta, incredulous. ¡°Also, your turn is up here.¡±

    ¡°Fuck no! Lookin¡¯ for opportunities,¡± replied Skulker, spinning the steering wheel. ¡°Like a van tearin¡¯ outta HQ for some weird reason.¡±

    Nomad took a break from staring out the window to ask, ¡°How do you two know each other?¡±

    ¡°Ran into each other,¡± replied Skulker. ¡°Decided to help each other out.¡± Delta leaned forward to get around the wing, catching Olivia¡¯s attention for confirmation. It took a few awkward seconds for Olivia to get the unasked question, but she nodded.

    OK, there¡¯s got to be more to it than that. ¡°What were you doing when this happened?¡± asked Delta.

    Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but Skulker beat her to the punch, saying, ¡°Fuckin¡¯ with Sanchez.¡±

    ¡°Did you even know who that was?¡± Delta asked Olivia.

    ¡°A bad guy?¡± replied Olivia. Delta nodded, thinking, That¡¯s it, huh? You had no idea what you were doing, did you.

    They pulled into a light industrial park. Two single floor off white buildings ran in parallel to each other, each a row of offices and attached warehouses half a block long. A battered old ¡°FOR SALE¡± sign fluttered in the breeze near the roof alongside one of the broken cords that had kept it in place. A single dead tree stood out in a bleak landscape of concrete and asphalt, the parking lots completely empty save a few cars at the far end of the park.

    ¡°My unit is over here. Park in the back, it¡¯s out of the way,¡± said Delta.

    It had been one of her uncle¡¯s auto shops, until he died of a heart attack a few years ago and it summarily closed for lack of business. She doubted anyone remembered it, or cared, so she borrowed the keys indefinitely. In bits and pieces over the year since she¡¯d moved to the city, she¡¯d turned it into her own safe house off the grid.

    ¡°You sure? Looks like there might be another Olivia lurkin¡¯ around in here,¡± said Skulker.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Olivia

    ¡°You don¡¯t live here. Know if this place has been broken into while you¡¯re away?¡±

    ¡°I made a special security system for this myself. I would have installed it in my MHU workshop too, if Cyrus would have let me.¡± Nomad snorted out a reluctant laugh.

    As they approached, Delta hit a button on her key chain. With a happy beep, the lock on the steel door disengaged, letting them into the main workshop area. The automatic lights flickered alive.

    The shop wasn¡¯t big, with room for only six cars, and a small office space connected to it out front. Oil and grease stained the concrete floor. She¡¯d left the office empty, keeping up the appearance that the shop was abandoned. The city grid didn¡¯t officially connect to the building. Unofficially, Delta had tapped into it anyways. She even paid utilities under a ghost address to reduce the likelihood of questions being asked by some accountant somewhere. She had shoved the remaining automotive equipment into a corner when she¡¯d moved in, constantly forgetting to sell it off when she had free time. Joke¡¯s on me, I never have free time.

    ¡°Looks like you were ready for this,¡± observed Skulker.

    ¡°Seems like it,¡± replied Delta.

    ¡°Why the fuck does a cop do somethin¡¯ like this?¡±

    She shrugged, unable to muster the energy to argue further. ¡°Who knows?¡± Olivia swayed on her feet. Nomad stared off into the distance when he thought no one watched, eyes tight with worry. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting guests. I¡¯ve only got a cot for myself. I¡¯ll see what I¡¯ve got stored away for you two.¡±

    ***

    They slept like the dead for twelve hours. Skulker left them alone after they got settled, promising to be back later. Delta was the first to wake up to a blessedly silent shop. She got her backup workshop organized, at a loss for anything else to do. I could run, I guess. I don¡¯t think the new identity trick is going to work twice, the MHU busted me once already. Nomad and Olivia woke up a little later. Both said little to nothing, beyond bare necessities. What are we going to do? Is there even a we? I guess we have to figure out what¡¯s going on.

    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re on the news,¡± Delta called out to the others. She turned up the volume of her computer speakers so the others could hear.

    Delta only had one chair, the one she currently occupied, and there was no other furniture beyond the desks she had covered with various electronic devices. Most everything that had been in the shop before her had been sold off after her uncle¡¯s death. The monitor she had displayed the news on, the largest she had, rested on an old toolbox. I should make sure there¡¯s nothing important in there at some point.

    ¡°Recovery efforts continue at the Westward City Meta-Human Unit headquarters this morning,¡± began an attractive blond anchor for the morning news of one of the local channels, shuffling her papers and maintaining a plastic smile. ¡°The damage left by Cyrus, formerly the head of the MHU, is extensive. Thankfully, the unit has reported no casualties, and the damage to the headquarters will be repaired within a month. Marcus Vandeberg has stepped in as acting head in the meantime.¡±

    Her older male co-anchor, plastered with a similar smile, continued, ¡°Also at large are Cyrus¡¯ accomplices, Amanda Broussard, also known as Delta, and Christopher Smith, also known as Nomad. These two are meta-humans and former officers of the MHU.¡± Pictures of Delta and Nomad appeared on screen. ¡°The two appear to be in possession of the feral spotted several times in the city, taken into custody by the MHU just yesterday.¡± The picture of Olivia in her bed sheet popped up.

    ¡°After the clash, the suspects fled the scene. The suspects are believed to be working with a vigilante known as Skulker. Representatives from both the MHU and city hall declined to comment.¡±

    A hotline number appeared at the bottom of the screen. ¡°If you have any information regarding these four, please contact this number provided by the USMHD.¡± They changed camera angles, moving on to the next news story. ¡°Is your teen truly safe from drugs? The answer, of course, is no. A concerning trend is rising among high school students, called Getting Fucked Up, where they smoke all of the drugs at once, while drunk.¡±

    Delta exited the window the news was opened in and turned to the others. Nomad lay on his back on the floor, using a lumpy bag as a pillow. He checked his phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. I need to talk with him about that. The moment he walks out of here they might ping us. Olivia sat nearby, arms wrapped around her knees.

    ¡°Well, everyone knows our names now, if they didn¡¯t know before,¡± Delta said.

    ¡°Did they say you owned me?¡± That was from Olivia, who hadn¡¯t spoken a word since waking.

    Delta hesitated, as did Nomad. Oh well, she¡¯ll hear it eventually. Delta said, ¡°I think, like, by law, you aren¡¯t a person. Somewhere in between animal and person, in terms of rights at least. So, you know, feral fighting rings are illegal, no torturing them for fun, and so on, but I don¡¯t think voting is in your future. Or taxes! See? Silver linings.¡± What the hell am I babbling about? Taxes? You just told her another way she¡¯s getting screwed. But Olivia smiled slightly at the tax thing, though she looked at the ground, and didn¡¯t raise further comments, so Delta was willing to let it lie. ¡®Possession¡¯. Poor girl.

    Three knocks on the back door caught their attention. They froze. The next three knocks cut the tension in the room. Skulker had bothered to come back, instead of leaving them out to dry.

    ¡°Hey! Got food,¡± he said as Nomad opened the door. Plastic bags rustled as he walked in. He looked around as he unloaded. ¡°Sad an¡¯ quiet today, are we?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± replied Delta, helping herself to a bagel. Skulker laughed, tossing what looked like a plate sized cut of ham towards Olivia. They stirred to life, the need for food cutting through depression induced stupor.

    Skulker sauntered up to Delta once they¡¯d finished. ¡°Hey hon, my rifle¡¯s been real banged up lately. Got time to take a look at it? I think Overlord made it. Not sure, those mercs weren''t the sharin¡¯ type.¡± Crude innuendo and resulting fury came to mind, before he slung a giant rifle off his shoulder and offered it to her. Oh, it is just a rifle.

    Delta stopped herself from reflexively saying no. Overlord? How in the hell did you get a hand on that? Even if Overlord himself hadn¡¯t touched it, his undercover research companies based everything on his technology, which was some of, if not the most advanced created by man. Learning is power. She hadn¡¯t known how a circuit board worked as a child, but her power went haywire the first time she experimented with the insides of a computer when she was twelve.

    ¡°Gimme,¡± she said, turning around and extending her hands. If he¡¯s lying I¡¯ll figure out real quick.

    ¡°You¡¯re a real techie after all. Just say Overlord an¡¯ they all perk right up,¡± he said, handing over the rifle and heading over to Olivia.

    ¡°Uh huh.¡± Delta set down the rifle on the desk and began disassembling. Let¡¯s see here. This has got to have a crazy power source. Tracing this back here¡­no. This? Yeah. Holy¡­ She stared at the power source. She continued to stare, until she was dragged back to reality by a hesitant tap on her shoulder.

    She jerked a bit and turned. There stood a concerned Olivia and an amused Skulker. ¡°Are you OK?¡± asked Olivia, while Skulker craned his neck to get a look at his rifle.

    ¡°Are you gonna put it back together?¡± he asked. ¡°Been starin¡¯ at it for fifteen minutes now. Can¡¯t shoot anythin¡¯ with it like that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sorry,¡± said Delta. Nomad paid them no mind, still glued to his phone. Ungh, headache coming on. But if this puts out the power I¡¯m thinking it does, it has some insane heat sinks or something. Dissipated energy has to go somewhere. She continued, confirming her suspicions with various devices along the barrel. If I could put these on a large scale, I am one step closer to my own set of power armor. This is definitely what melted our van.

    Delta could cover the electronics of a suit just fine, but there was so much more. She wasn¡¯t a mechanical engineer, so the joints, strength enhancement, and overall design were beyond her. She could develop a power source just fine, but thermodynamics had been her stumbling block, at least until now. Got to keep the pilot from being roasted alive, after all. While a staple of front line engineers, sets of power armor were few and far between. There were a limited number who could afford to build and maintain them.

    She checked over the rest of the rifle, rerouting the few wires a little further away from the barrel, and reassembled it. Skulker and Olivia might have talked to her at that point, she didn¡¯t really pay attention.

    She practically shoved the rifle back at Skulker before wheeling over on her chair to her main computer to start writing down all the different ideas her power provided her. Skulker led Olivia away, and she was blessedly alone with her thoughts once more. She couldn¡¯t remember it all on her own, and just letting it simmer in her mind would bring the headache to full force. She lost track of time again. She would prefer to bounce some of the ideas off of some other engineers, see if they had any insight she had not considered. Wait a minute, all the ones I know think I¡¯m a traitor. Damn you, Marcus.

    ¡°What are we doing?¡± asked Nomad, his voice bringing Delta back to reality once more. He¡¯d put down his phone and now paced back and forth in the shop. ¡°We can¡¯t just sit here.¡± Looks like he finally woke up.

    ¡°I¡¯m just here in case anythin¡¯ interesting¡¯ happens,¡± replied Skulker.

    ¡°I¡¯m being serious,¡± replied Nomad, his face betraying no hint of annoyance.

    ¡°So am I,¡± said Skulker with a shrug.

    ¡°Wish granted. We can¡¯t sit here. What are we doing? Or are we just going to scatter and hope for the best?¡± Olivia flinched at the mention of scattering.

    ¡°Marcus is who got us into this mess,¡± said Delta.

    ¡°Marcus is a bit out of our reach,¡± pointed out Nomad. ¡°And I really doubt this was all just him.¡±

    ¡°Sanchez probably wants all us dead,¡± said Skulker. ¡°Definitely wants me and ¡®liv¡¯.¡± Liv? Oh, Olivia.

    ¡°Cyrus seemed to think Sanchez had a rat in the MHU,¡± said Nomad.

    ¡°Not the only thing he¡¯s doin¡¯,¡± added Skulker. ¡°Movin¡¯ stuff for Overlord, too.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to figure out how to deal with him. That will probably put us back in people¡¯s good graces, prove that we aren¡¯t working with him. We¡¯ll get vigilante or mercenary status, better than arrest on sight. Are we all on board with this?¡±

    ¡°All of us?¡± asked Delta.

    ¡°Divided we fall,¡± said Nomad. ¡°I¡¯m not sure who else I can trust. Do you?¡±

 17: Assemblage

    Chapter 17: Assemblage

    Olivia looked from side to side, uncertain what she should say, or even if she should say anything. I guess this is what me and Ben were doing before. Does this mean we keep fighting? Their group of four spread around the dim workshop, half the lights on the high ceiling not even giving off so much as a flicker when they¡¯d first turned them on. The whole place smelled like the dust of her own abandoned apartment mixed with certain hints of car. Not exhaust, but of chemicals and oil that gave her a light headache.

    Ben slouched off to the side. He¡¯d taken off his mask around the other two to eat, and didn¡¯t bother to put it back on. No one seems like they¡¯re keeping a secret. I guess we¡¯re all kind of shoved together now. Olivia finally got a look at the police who¡¯d been with her over the last day. Nomad rubbed the stubble on his square chin, a small frown tugging at the corners of his lips. Square described his whole face, from chin to furrowed brow.

    Olivia didn¡¯t have to crane her neck as far down with Nomad as she did with most people. Delta, however, stood shorter than anyone Olivia had ever met, not that she had met more than a handful. She leaned back in a swiveling office chair, a set of metal rods with handles arrayed behind her. Her short, dark hair didn¡¯t seem to get in her eyes or mouth like Olivia¡¯s sometimes did.

    ¡°We find the rat, work our way up, clear our names,¡± said Nomad. ¡°I have a life I¡¯d like to live, and it doesn¡¯t involve having a warrant out for my arrest for forever.¡±

    ¡°No one¡¯s heard from Cyrus since we escaped, have we?¡± said Delta.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a day already. I wouldn¡¯t turn down his help, but we can¡¯t just sit around and wait for him to throw holy water at whatever we do.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that about Cyrus?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°He helped us escape. He got shot in the head, but got better.¡±

    Ben blinked. ¡°Sure, why not? What do we got here besides our fine selves? Guns?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± replied Delta.

    Nomad leaned forward, confused. ¡°You¡¯re wearing the same clothes you were yesterday. You didn¡¯t pack any clothes? Any supplies? Anything at all in a safehouse?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got important stuff.¡± She waved her hand towards a sleek black tower that came up to Olivia¡¯s knee. Several fans hummed within. ¡°I¡¯ve got a back door into MHU servers from here. I¡¯ve got access to my own private bank accounts. I¡¯ve got enough components to put together anything we need. This place is signal proof. I¡¯ve got plenty of stuff here.¡±

    ¡°To be clear,¡± said Nomad, locking eyes with Delta. ¡°You stocked this place with a full soldering set up, computers worth three months of my salary, and some crazy signal blocking thing. But you didn¡¯t include food, guns, or a change of clothes.¡±

    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ techies,¡± said Ben with a laugh.

    ¡°Tell me you¡¯re not leaving the building and using your phone,¡± said Delta, her face paling. ¡°They can track that.¡± How? It¡¯s just a phone, right?

    ¡°I know. I haven¡¯t. Back to the original question,¡± replied Nomad.

    ¡°That stuff is easy to get,¡± said Delta. ¡°I¡¯ve got money for everything.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Nomad.

    ¡°Sold cool shit,¡± said Ben.

    Delta rolled her eyes at him. ¡°I¡¯m an electrical engineer with a power. I sold three patents a couple years ago so I¡¯d have a fall back in case everything went bad. And everything has gone pretty bad, hasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°How can we use this money? Our faces are plastered all over the news so we can¡¯t just go out and get it. Are we just going to have stuff delivered to this empty warehouse?¡±

    Delta frowned, without a response. Nomad turned to Ben. ¡°It turns out we don¡¯t have anything. If you don¡¯t feel like donating it, we don¡¯t have it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a minimum wage slave, I don¡¯t got donations,¡± replied Ben.

    ¡°Wait, what? Why would you bother with that?¡± asked Delta.

    ¡°If you¡¯re lookin¡¯ for a vigilante, you got time to go through every minimum wage schmuck like me, just goin¡¯ through life? Dime a dozen. Also means I don¡¯t gotta fake paperwork. But I do know how we can piss off Sanchez some more, an¡¯ get everyone armed an¡¯ supplied. Just gotta find his people¡±

    ¡°Finding people is that easy, huh?¡± asked Delta, in a tone that Olivia took a second to recognize as sarcasm. ¡°Fuck, all the MHU has to do is listen to you.¡± Why is everyone being so mean? We¡¯re all helping, aren¡¯t we?

    ¡°Look, computers an¡¯ headquarters are great, but you wanna find someone, you talk to his friends,¡± replied Ben. ¡°Everyone¡¯s got ¡®em. Way more fuckin¡¯ consistent than putting numbers in a screen or whatever y¡¯all were doin¡¯. One of his guys, me an¡¯ ¡®liv¡¯ got him a couple days ago, just got out on bail. Dumb enough to keep his real driver¡¯s license on him when I went through his pockets, I know where he is.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t talk to us in the MHU, why will he talk to us now?¡± asked Nomad, doubt written across his face.

    Skulker grinned wider and jerked a thumb at Olivia. ¡°We got a scary feral to sic on him. We got no pesky laws between us an¡¯ him. We follow him for a while an¡¯ tag his friends. We home invade. You ain¡¯t cops anymore, we got all sorts of options.¡± I¡¯m not that scary, am I? Those people are way scarier.

    Nomad nodded, considering. ¡°If we can¡¯t use our phones, how will we coordinate? Any ideas? Or are we all just going to be in shouting range of each other at all times?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got parts,¡± replied Delta. ¡°I can get us all some secure push to talk radios. I¡¯ll just have to put them together. Won¡¯t take more than a few hours.¡±

    ¡°Just like that?¡±

    Delta snorted. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯ll be a little earpiece, a mic, and a little thing you can clip to your belt. I¡¯ve got the band hopping and encryption set up already, it¡¯ll take like two minutes to install. I can fine tune the range and power once we know what kind of range we¡¯ll be operating in. It¡¯ll be mostly undetectable, and if they do find it they¡¯ll get nothing but gibberish. Basic stuff.¡± What?

    Nomad sat upright with a smile, straightened his shoulders, and addressed the room, ¡°Then we¡¯ll be busy tonight. Delta can get to work on those comms. Skulker, you want to go through the back with me and figure out what we do have? After that we¡¯ll map out where we¡¯ll hit tonight.¡± At least he sounds like he knows what¡¯s going on.

    ¡°Sure.¡± Without fanfare, Ben teleported to the door, leaving Nomad to catch up.

    What about me? Should I help with something? Olivia looked around the cavernous room again. Equipment, shoved into a sloppy pile in the corner, caught her eye. Could I organize that? I don¡¯t know what any of that stuff is. What if I break something? She stepped over their beds, little more than a threadbare blanket on the ground for her and Nomad, to join Delta.

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    Delta had her helmet before her on a wooden table with a blue rubber mat on top. A panel on the back of the helmet was open, and she fiddled with something within. She looked up for a moment at Olivia¡¯s approach, but otherwise remained focused on her work. Olivia sat down on the edge of a second chair, trying to make sure her wing didn¡¯t accidentally get in Delta¡¯s way. Olivia took a minute to consider what to say.

    ¡°So, what are you working on, Delta?¡± asked Olivia. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Delta¡¯s eye twitch. Did I say something wrong?

    ¡°You can call me Amanda. And what I¡¯m working on,¡± she trailed off as she concentrated. Olivia heard a zap, and smelled a whiff of something burnt. ¡°Is getting ready to install one of those comms. There we go!¡± Something else made a strange noise from the helmet. ¡°Getting ready to install a comm in my helmet.¡±

    ¡°Do you need any help?¡± Wait, no, I have no idea what to do.

    ¡°What can you do?¡± asked Delta. Wait, her real name is Amanda. That sounds nice.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I can hear and see really well.¡±

    ¡°Hold on a second,¡± said Amanda. ¡°You¡¯re basically half dragon, right?¡± Olivia looked up and nodded cautiously. I guess? ¡°Can you breathe fire?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I could try but that doesn¡¯t seem like a good idea in here.¡± I¡¯ve never tried that before.

    ¡°You seem bored. A lot of my stuff is really delicate on the inside, I¡¯m probably the only one here who can work with it without breaking it. Excuse me a second,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± said Olivia, moving out of the way as Amanda hopped up from her chair to a clear spot on the table, getting closer to eye level with her. Olivia remained sitting, tapping the side of a claw against her folded forearm. ¡°I just kind of miss flying. It¡¯s quiet up there.¡±

    ¡°Quiet?¡± Amanda prodded.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Olivia. ¡°There¡¯s a lot going on here and everywhere else. It¡¯s kind of a headache to deal with all the time. Not when I¡¯m up high though.¡±

    ¡°What do you hear right now?¡±

    ¡°Uh, well, this place creaks a lot. The fans of the computers are kind of loud, and so is the air heater thing. There are cars on the street. I hear all that, and it¡¯s all the time. I hear heartbeats and breathing if there¡¯s nothing else.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s, like, some really good hearing. If you have a problem with that you can just tell us, you know.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I know. I¡¯m really sorry. I didn¡¯t¡­ didn¡¯t know what to say. And¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt anything you were doing or anything.¡±

    Amanda cut her off. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s fine. Now that I think about it, why did you hide all this time?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I was scared. I didn¡¯t know what was going on, and Skulker mentioned something about a lab. I was hoping to just stay out of the way, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Skulker, huh?¡± said Amanda with a slow nod. ¡°You don¡¯t have to hide.¡±

    Sorry. ¡°OK,¡± Olivia mumbled, eyes glued to her feet.

    ¡°Something else you want to talk about?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡­um¡­well¡­¡± Olivia trailed off again. She closed her eyes for a moment. Why am I so bad at talking? Just say something. ¡°I might not be so helpful for this,¡± she said in a rush.

    ¡°Why is that?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Do you remember that fight where you and Nomad found me?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. That was only yesterday.¡±

    ¡°I forgot stuff,¡± Olivia mumbled. She dared not look up, to see a look of disgust or fear or loathing on Amanda¡¯s face.

    ¡°What do you mean? Like what happened or something?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Olivia, the words coming easier. ¡°I forgot names. I know people said stuff, but I didn¡¯t understand what they said. I forgot how to talk. Everything I did wasn¡¯t thinking. And it was angry and violent. I was honestly trying to kill them. Like, screaming to myself to kill them. I think I did. And I don¡¯t want to hurt or kill anyone, especially not you guys, and I might forget everything again and attack you guys again and I want to help and keep you guys from getting hurt and I¡¯m more trouble for you guys than I¡¯m worth and I don¡¯t know what to do.¡±

    The silence, though it only lasted for two seconds at most, dragged on for an eternity. Olivia flinched as Amanda took in a breath. ¡°Have you ever been angry before?¡± she asked.

    The question took Olivia by surprise. Maybe? Probably annoyed. Not like that. Not that strong. Or intense. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°That might be it. You¡¯re a feral. You¡¯re in uncharted territory. I won¡¯t know how you¡¯ll react to everything. But now you know how to recognize it, and to avoid it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m really scared that I¡¯m going to do something bad to one of you guys for some reason, or you guys get hurt because I¡¯m not able to do something.¡± In the silence that followed, a thought struck Olivia. ¡°I killed someone. Is something wrong with me?¡± It seems wrong.

    ¡°That feeling is human empathy. It¡¯s not something wrong, it¡¯s good that you have it,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°No. I get that. But I killed someone. Why don¡¯t I feel worse?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Olivia paused for a moment, struggling to find the words. ¡°It¡¯s bad, but I¡¯m still just going. I¡¯m just eating and sleeping like normal. It¡¯s like it should be worse? I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t being crazy. They were trying to kill you,¡± Amanda pointed out.

    ¡°Yeah. But, I¡¯m me,¡± replied Olivia, spreading her wings out a few inches to demonstrate.

    ¡°Olivia!¡± She flinched back at the tone of disappointment and outrage. Sorry. ¡°Don¡¯t think like that. You do not deserve to curl up and die just because of who you are. Those attackers. Do you know who they were?¡±

    ¡°Sanchez? Or, you know, people who worked for him?¡±

    ¡°Do you know who that is?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°A bad guy?¡±

    ¡°And how do you know that?¡±

    ¡°Ben, oh, Skulker said so.¡±

    ¡°He seems to have adopted you. Have you told him any of this?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°You know you can talk to the rest of us, right? We¡¯re not going to laugh at you or anything. Well, maybe Skulker.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t want to waste your time or anything.¡±

    Amanda failed to repress a sigh. Sorry. She said, ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid to mess up, Olivia. There¡¯s a good balance to be struck between shyness and outgoing-ness, and right now you¡¯re in the painfully shy category. Bottling everything up isn¡¯t healthy.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± said Olivia quietly.

    Amanda nudged her with a smile on her lips. ¡°Is anything going to come out of that OK, or is that ¡®OK, make the talking stop¡¯?¡±

    Olivia smiled slightly, saying, ¡°No, not that. I guess you¡¯re right. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Nothing to be sorry about,¡± said Amanda, giving her a brief one armed hug. Olivia leaned in a little, reluctant to accidentally knock her off the table.

    Ben, from the entrance to the shop, called out, ¡°Have a nice heart to heart? Or you still freakin¡¯ out, ¡®liv¡¯?¡± When did you come back? ¡°Oh, yeah, Delta, can me an¡¯ Chris use those tool boxes in the back? Or those super special to you or somethin¡¯?¡±

    Something hardened in Amanda¡¯s eyes. She hopped off the table and marched up to him. ¡°You lunatic. You dragged a scared, unarmed, untrained girl into firefights?¡± she hissed, jabbing a finger into Ben¡¯s chest.

    He shrugged. ¡°I asked her.¡± Amanda¡¯s head rocked back. ¡°What? I kept askin¡¯, she kept sayin¡¯ yes. Did you when you dragged her into a cell?¡±

    ¡°How was she supposed to know? Instead of telling her anything you fed her some lie about mad scientists.¡±

    ¡°An¡¯ you were gonna throw her in a lab an¡¯ forget about her.¡±

    ¡°Paranoid nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Was I wrong?¡±

    ¡°Yes! She doesn¡¯t know anything else and you dragged her into fights that could have gotten her killed. Did you tell her anything about what she was walking into? A bunch of people tried to murder her because of you.¡±

    ¡°Look at her! What else she gonna do? She coulda backed out, any time.¡±

    ¡°You know what? You are just the worst asshole I¡¯ve ever met,¡± Amanda burst, hands forming fists. ¡°You are an idiotic, dishonest psychopath who can¡¯t keep his mouth shut.¡±

    ¡°Dishonest? From a cop? Hon, you keep talkin¡¯ like that, I slit your throat.¡± Olivia couldn¡¯t see one of his hands.

    No. Olivia took a deep breath. Amanda and Ben were more focused on each other, about a foot from each other¡¯s faces. They did not notice her until she placed a hand on each of their shoulders and gently separated the two of them, fully extending her arms.

    ¡°I really can¡¯t thank either of you enough. You¡¯ve really helped me out. And I will throw you both through opposite walls before you two try to hurt each other. Do you understand me?¡± Olivia spoke slowly and softly, making sure there was no opportunity for any misunderstanding to occur. Please listen. Please listen. Please just listen.

    Ben shot her a strange look, almost surprised. ¡°Look, cops, journalists, an¡¯ politicians will knife you the moment they can.¡±

    ¡°No. She helped,¡± replied Olivia.

    ¡°He used you as a bullet sponge!¡± burst Amanda, halfway through waving her hands in exasperation.

    ¡°He still came to help me. Please stop, both of you.¡±

    She looked to Amanda, busy glaring at Ben, then to Ben, who said, ¡°I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ it¡¯d be best if we all took a step back.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± said Amanda through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Olivia said, releasing both. She watched carefully as Amanda returned to her workbench and Ben retreated to the other side of the shop. Then a thought struck her. ¡°You two aren¡¯t going to attack each other when my back is turned are you?¡±

    ¡°Not unless they start it,¡± said Ben and Amanda simultaneously.

    Olivia¡¯s shoulders slumped the moment their backs were turned, a tension she didn¡¯t know she had released. Exhaustion set in, though she¡¯d barely done more than wake up, eat, and talk. Will they be mad at me? She looked down at her scaled hands. Shouldn''t they be sweaty? It feels like they should be. Why does it feel like that? She jumped when Amanda called her over.

    ¡°Tonight, do you want to come with us?¡± asked Amanda.

    I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t just do nothing. What if you guys get hurt? ¡°I want to help,¡± replied Olivia.

    Amanda locked eyes with her. ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°You know people will probably try to kill us. We might have to do the same.¡±

    I don¡¯t want you guys to get hurt. ¡°Yes.¡±

    She gave her a small nod. ¡°OK. If that¡¯s what you want.¡±

 18 Spit, Glue, and Tape

    Chapter 18: Spit, Glue, and Tape

    A flurry of activity and chaos shoved Miya into a corner in the days since her arrival at Sanchez''s gang. They housed her in a small room in the building she¡¯d arrived in, unsure of what to do with her. The boredom beat sedatives and surgery any day, and they fed her real food instead of nutrient paste from a robot. The building seemed to actually house a real construction company as well, though she never saw any regular employees come to the upper floors where Sanchez and the other bigwigs worked. The rumble of heavy machinery couldn¡¯t be masked, even from eight stories up.

    They didn¡¯t bother to lock her up at least, not that they needed to. She couldn¡¯t get too far from her controller, or Overlord¡¯s failsafes would kick in and kill her. Grabbing the damn thing would also kill her, or so she¡¯d been told. I¡¯m not calling that bluff. Sanchez only came to quiz her once, before getting called away with shouting about the MHU headquarters blowing up. His annoying wife came in every now and then, more to gossip and give her opinions to her husband than anything business related. That and drink. She still insisted on being there for any big meetings, including the one where Sanchez introduced Miya to their organization.

    Miya sat on her bed, in a shirt and pants both several sizes too large for her. The old TV in her room played some awful late afternoon soap opera she¡¯d never heard of before, but didn¡¯t demand any brain power from her. She¡¯d slept like a rock for days, whatever Overlord¡¯s doctors had used to keep her out hadn¡¯t translated to actual rest. The food and sleep did wonders to get herself back together, even if she didn¡¯t exactly know where she stood in the mob racket she found herself in.

    Just as she considered getting up and stretching her legs, maybe listening in on the latest comings and goings, a heavy hand knocked on the door. She opened it to find Sanchez, in a dark t-shirt and heavy work pants, instead of the suit he usually favored. A few wood shavings clung to his forearms. He carried a heavy folder and Miya¡¯s controller. She gritted her teeth in preparation. Don¡¯t give him reason to use that.

    The chair in the corner of her room creaked as he sat down, thumbing through the folder. ¡°Bone attenuation, huh?¡± asked Sanchez. She¡¯d never heard anyone use his first name, not even his wife.

    Miya nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±

    He locked eyes with her. ¡°That means you can work with pretty much any living matter, it¡¯s only strongest in bones. Correct?¡±

    He did his homework. ¡°For the most part. That¡¯s not common knowledge,¡± she said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to be where I am by being an idiot. Solid Tod is in need of healing, or he¡¯s going to lose his arm. The bone is fractured, but that¡¯s not all. Can you keep it in one piece?¡±

    Miya gave him a tired shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s been a while.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m feeding you out of my own pocket, I¡¯m going to need something more than that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I can. I¡¯d have to see it first.¡± Jackass.

    ¡°Follow.¡±

    He walked off, leaving her to scramble after him as he headed towards the elevator. One floor down, he took her to a makeshift hospital room. Solid Tod leaned back in his bed, left arm wrapped in bandages. Miya skirted around a heavy office desk shoved to the side to get a closer look. The room reeked of blood.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he said in greeting as Sanchez walked in. ¡°Oh yeah, the mage girl.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll see what she can do.¡± Sanchez turned to her. ¡°Won''t we.¡± Miya ignored the lightly veiled threat and peeled off the bandages.

    ¡°Shit hurts. Been told to lay off the morphine,¡± said Tod through gritted teeth.

    Four deep gouges in his bicep lay under the bandages. The top two cut halfway through an old tattoo of a pinup girl. ¡°What the hell did this?¡± she asked. ¡°Did you fight a tiger or something?¡±

    ¡°Feral,¡± replied Sanchez curtly. Oh yeah, he was the one going hunting.

    ¡°Did he kill it?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± snarled Tod. I¡¯ll take that as a no.

    ¡°Focus. Both of you,¡± said Sanchez.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need my magic if you want me to do anything,¡± she replied, motioning to the controller in his pocket.

    Sanchez opened the folder, leaning it out of Miya¡¯s sight. Oh god what does that thing say? To make the mage dance, press 1? After nearly a minute of reading, he pulled the controller from his pocket.

    ¡°This should work,¡± he murmured. Tod leaned away from Miya.

    Sanchez clicked the button. The three of them waited for a moment, then two, Miya bracing for something to hurt. All that for one button?

    ¡°Is that it?¡± asked Sanchez.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Miya replied. ¡°What were you expecting?¡±

    ¡°Magic,¡± he replied, as if it were obvious.

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different."

    "Did you hit the right button?¡± asked Tod.

    Without waiting for an answer, Miya closed her eyes and focused. Before, reaching for magic had been intuitive for her. Now the sense came sluggish and slow, but came it did. The room dimmed at the edges of her vision. Magic, ribbons of deep ashen red to her, twisted and wound through everything, from the broad thick streams in her own body to tiny tendrils woven like the fabric of the blanket they were part of. It had been too long since she could do this of her own volition. With a smile she announced, ¡°That did it.¡±

    She laid her hand on Tod. Her magic traveled through bone and flesh, not air. The streams slid into the flesh without a mark or pain. She could sense the physical fracture of the bone as clear as day. The rest of the arm was more opaque. Blood rushed where it shouldn¡¯t have, the flesh feverish. Something else, not human, burrowed its way through. She felt aches throughout her back and head, like cuts that hadn''t fully closed.

    ¡°That¡¯s bad,¡± she said.

    ¡°Define bad,¡± demanded Sanchez.

    ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you medical definitions and crap like that.¡±

    ¡°Can you fix it?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± His own body will do half the work anyways. ¡°I can fix the fracture just fine on my own, I need more for the flesh.¡± She frowned as she examined Tod¡¯s gouged arm again. ¡° I¡¯ll need some blood, freely given.¡±

    ¡°Not bone?¡±

    ¡°Blood comes from bone marrow,¡± replied Miya as she got ready. She laid out a few strips of bandage side by side. She motioned for a metal tray with a few medical tools on it. ¡°They¡¯re more connected than you¡¯d think. And I¡¯m mostly not fixing his bones. There¡¯s a rot that¡¯s set in, and a lot of muscle and nerve damage even if that weren¡¯t the case. To fix flesh and blood, I need flesh and blood.¡±

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Fine.¡± Sanchez reached down into his boot and pulled out a knife.

    ¡°There¡¯s always a cost. It hurts if you try to get cute with it. Intent matters.¡± If this backfires you¡¯ll kill me. He¡¯d nearly taken the knife to his elbow, but stopped himself as he heard her last sentence. He considered for a moment, then slashed his palm. He picked that up fast. She directed his hand over the clean tray, giving her about ten drops of blood before she waved him off.

    As Sanchez cleaned and bandaged his palm, Miya got to work. She dipped a finger into the still warm blood and began to draw on the bandages, tracing the route the magic would weave into. She drew on herself, on the blood, on the world, and it answered. The edges of her vision dimmed once more as she set up the streams. Through long trial and error she had found how her own will, her own magic, would act and react to what she told it to and what it found. A simple stream would mend the fracture, more woven around it to burn out the infection, and the blood to restore the flesh.

    ¡°Where¡¯d it go?¡± asked Tod.

    ¡°Non-mages can¡¯t see magic,¡± said Sanchez, letting Miya concentrate.

    ¡°No shit. Blood isn¡¯t magic, it¡¯s blood,¡± replied Tod.

    ¡°Shut up or lose your arm,¡± snapped Miya. I really need to focus here. Sanchez cut short Tod¡¯s response with a light punch to his good shoulder and a curt shake of his head.

    She lay one hand on Tod, the other an inch over her blood bandage. He flinched. The finished braid of magic, woven through the blood of those who gave a damn, flowed through her. Let scientists squabble about ¡®possible¡¯. Let them all, Overlord and Sanchez and Tod, doubt, doubt what they cannot measure or control. I say this arm should be fixed. Let it be so. Miya''s vision surfaced from a sea of blood red back to the real world, the streams of magic dispersed having served their purpose.

    Tod and Sanchez may not have been able to see magic, but they could definitely see Tod¡¯s arm, whole and healthy. She couldn¡¯t help the tattoo though, or the four white scars streaking across the bicep. Miya crashed on the chair, exhausted. That felt wrong. What did Overlord do?

    Tod leaned forward, waving and flexing his arm. ¡°Great! That it?¡±

    Miya took a moment to adjust her position on the chair, sitting up a little straighter, before replying, ¡°You should eat some steak sometime soon.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°You need protein.¡±

    ¡°Sold. Best doctor I¡¯ve ever had,¡± he said with a laugh. Now you change your tune.

    Sanchez grinned and laid a hand on Miya and Tod¡¯s shoulders. He hid the wince from the impact on his cut hand well. ¡°Let¡¯s celebrate! We¡¯ve got some fights down at the Arena. You¡¯ll get dinner and a show. Both of you.¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah,¡± said Tod, pulling the IV needle out of his other arm. Shouldn¡¯t you have a nurse or something do that? Why fuck around with needles? ¡°Let me get dressed.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s meet up in ten at the garage,¡± said Sanchez. He raised an expectant eyebrow at Miya, Tod already climbing out of bed.

    Do I have to? We¡¯re not friends. But it''s this or a bad soap opera. ¡°Alright,¡± she said. ¡°But I need to be near you though, remember.¡±

    ¡°Right. Elevator then.¡±

    Miya parted ways with the two of them to head to the bathroom. A spasm ran through her hands as she cleaned the blood off. Magic is gone. Sanchez turned it off. She locked eyes with herself in the mirror. Stubble still covered her head, at least no longer patchy and irregular at least. The acne scarring along her temples and chin hadn¡¯t faded even after months in a sterile lab. She grabbed a towel, soaked it, and washed her face off to no real effect. Fuck it. Good enough. I don¡¯t have any other clothes, I¡¯m not sure what he¡¯s expecting of me here.

    ***

    Sanchez, now back in his customary tailored suit, insisted on driving the SUV himself, waving away an underling who brought the car to them. Miya had the backseat all to herself. Tod and Sanchez ignored her, instead catching up on business that Tod missed while out of commission. Miya finally got a chance to see Westward City from a different view than from a random construction office. Not that the shanty town vibe got any better on the street level, though eventually it faded to a normal city, albeit one with a wall of mountains to the west. Finally, they pulled up to a fancy and expensive steakhouse. Didn¡¯t you call this place the Arena?

    They drove around back. Sanchez lowered the tinted window and gave a look to the restaurant employee loitering in the back. It took Miya a moment to realize said employee packed a pistol under his waistband. Sanchez has to own this place. He waved them through a garage door without hesitation.

    The mustachioed man she¡¯d met in the first meeting greeted them as they climbed out of the car. ¡°Sanchez! And good to see you in one piece, Tod!¡± He led them to a heavy steel door with an obvious guard to either side.

    ¡°Damn straight,¡± replied Tod with a cocky grin. You just sat there.

    ¡°Otto! Wasn¡¯t sure if you¡¯d be here. How¡¯s your cousin?¡± asked Sanchez.

    Otto¡¯s eyes ran past Miya without registering her presence. Though far thinner than either Tod or Sanchez, he took their back pats without so much as budging. ¡°He comes and goes. Same as always, I suppose.¡±

    He led them to a secluded dinner table set for four overlooking the Arena. About the area of a basketball court, movable fences closed off a smaller area in the center. Bright spotlights rigged overhead lit the square. Seats circled the whole thing, already filling with people. How the hell is this thing hidden below a goddamn restaurant?

    ¡°Tod here needs a steak. Doctor¡¯s orders,¡± said Sanchez as they took their seats.

    ¡°Of course,¡± said Otto with a thin smile, finally deigning to notice Miya. She returned the false smile with one of her own. He motioned to a waiter standing off in the corner.

    The conversation drifted on as they debated old fights and fighters they¡¯d hosted, until the waiter returned some time later with a steak for each. Miya eyed the porterhouse the size of her head. I don¡¯t think I can finish this. This is just a waste of good food. She carved off a piece and took a bite. Really really good food.

    ¡°So I hope you gave that feral as good as you got,¡± Otto said to Tod, gesturing to his scarred arm.

    ¡°Shot it out a window. Pretty sure it¡¯s not dead though,¡± replied Tod.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how you keep ours in control,¡± confessed Sanchez.

    ¡°You have no idea,¡± replied Otto with a shake of his head. ¡°I had a heart attack when I heard about the new one. Gave the boys a call before I figured out it wasn''t ours.¡±

    ¡°Is it fighting today?¡± asked Tod. ¡°I want to see how they stack up.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s recovering. We¡¯ve got several dog fights scheduled. The main show tonight is a bout between Omar and McPhearson.¡±

    ¡°Rules?¡±

    ¡°Boxing. No hold barred. The bookies have them at even odds, but my money is on Mickey. He¡¯s got a keen eye.¡±

    ¡°Omar¡¯s a mean son of a bitch, I¡¯ll take that bet,¡± replied Tod. Isn¡¯t Omar the guy who¡¯s supposed to find me a surgeon to get the Overlord crap out of me? Is he just fucking around, boxing for fun?

    Sanchez elbowed Tod. ¡°Oh yeah, apparently no one has been in contact with one of your men at the warehouse, Michael. Once he was out on bail he vanished. I was going to take a look at it for you before you recovered.¡±

    ¡°Michael? Warehouse? Yeah, joined up six months ago. Payed off his debts and kept working. Had an ugly breakup last month.¡± Tod waved a dismissive hand. ¡°The man had a feral running at him, then spent a few days getting grilled by cops. He probably found some sweet thing to take the load off. Let me know if he doesn¡¯t turn up tomorrow.¡± You know all that about a random dude working for you off-hand?

    ¡°Was it that bad?¡± asked Sanchez.

    ¡°That thing was big and fast, man. Wouldn¡¯t go down. It¡¯ll make you feel like a caveman staring down a sabre tooth.¡±

    An announcer¡¯s voice over the speakers caught their attention, hyping up the first of the dog fights being set up in the arena below them. Sanchez and Otto turned, chatting about business once the din faded. Barking caught Miya¡¯s attention, from either corner of the arena. Two giant mutts glared death at each other. She looked away as the cage doors opened and the crowd cheered. Miya saw the hints of exhaustion in Tod¡¯s eyes, though they vanished whenever Sanchez turned to him. He caught her gaze and leaned in.

    ¡°Was that Aztec magic stuff or regular magic stuff?¡± he asked her. ¡°With all the blood and stuff¡±

    ¡°Just my regular magic stuff.¡±

    ¡°Why are you fucking around here? Why don¡¯t you just get that crap out of you yourself?¡± asked Tod.

    ¡°It¡¯s all cased in iron,¡± she replied. ¡°I can¡¯t get through.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯ll do it. Hey, why does magic bounce off of iron anyways?¡±

    ¡°Iron is, I don¡¯t know how to put it. It¡¯s like space or something. A vacuum? Isn¡¯t that what space is?¡± Tod shrugged. ¡°It''s like trying to drink space.¡±

    ¡°Magic is when the universe considers and changes itself. Iron is too stable,¡± cut in Sanchez, though it sounded like he quoted something.

    ¡°Huh?¡± said Tod and Miya simultaneously. I¡¯ve never heard it put that way.

    ¡°How do you know that?¡± asked Tod.

    ¡°You should read a book every now and then,¡± said Sanchez. ¡°You might learn something.¡±

    ¡°I ain¡¯t an egghead,¡± grumbled Tod in response. ¡°Oh shit, it¡¯s starting.¡±

    With the blood and bits from the previous dog fights cleaned up, two men squared off in the Arena. With nothing more than a pair of boxing shorts and mouth-guards, they tapped each other''s knuckles and the fight began. At some point Miya¡¯s eyes glazed over. The others watched and dissected minutiae of boxing technique that she couldn¡¯t see. OK. Bored now.

    She leaned in as another round started, ignoring the sudden pain in a surgical scar along her back. ¡°Has Omar made any progress on finding someone to get Overlord¡¯s stuff out of me?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re working on it,¡± said Sanchez, cutting her off before she could say anything else. By his sharp tone, the conversation was over before it could even begin.

    There isn¡¯t anything stopping him from screwing me over, she thought, as Omar landed a monster blow to the side of his opponent''s head, diving on him as his guard dropped and bashing his skull over and over. The crowd went wild.

 19: Hide and Seek

    Chapter 19: Hide and Seek

    ¡°Keep an eye out, it¡¯d be real funny if we get busted by a patrol car or somethin¡¯. I¡¯ll be back in a sec.¡±

    Ben teleported out before anyone could respond, leaving Olivia, Amanda, and Nomad clustered around his old forest green Jeep. Olivia spotted the other two squint as they peered out into the night, only a bare handful of the surrounding streetlights functioning. They weren¡¯t missing much. Three old buildings walled off the isolated back lot Ben had parked them in. The last side of the lot faced a tall retaining wall, with no one walking on the sidewalk above. Olivia splayed her wings and leaned back against the Jeep, careful not to squish the base of her tail against it.

    ¡°He just runs off. We¡¯re so fucked,¡± Delta grumbled under her breath from the other side of the car.

    ¡°Do you have a better option?¡± Nomad asked her, voice low. ¡°I¡¯m being dead serious. I¡¯d love to hear one that isn¡¯t just running away.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re following the word of a murdering lunatic. Or vigilante, same thing,¡± replied Amanda.

    ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that? Do you have a better option?¡± Nomad repeated. They''re not going to leave, are they?

    ¡°No,¡± she admitted after a moment.

    Ben teleported back with two hops, cutting off their conversation. ¡°Spotted him. Chattin¡¯ with the lady out front. Puttin¡¯ his jacket on, about ready to leave.¡±

    ¡°Olivia, are you ready?¡± asked Nomad.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Olivia, trundling in from around his car.

    ¡°Like we talked about,¡± said Ben, just slow enough to be intelligible. ¡°If he¡¯s watchin¡¯ for cars followin¡¯ him, an¡¯ he should, we can¡¯t be too obvious. He ain¡¯t gonna look up into the night an¡¯ see you. We¡¯ll follow outta sight.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll do fine,¡± added Amanda for encouragement. Olivia gave her a small smile and took off into the cloudless night sky with a leap and a pump of her wings. I get to fly again!

    The cool breeze blew into her face as she gained altitude. She found going into the wind better if she needed to go up instead of fast, and the massage parlor their target loitered in was only separated from them by a building and a two lane street. Soon enough, the front door opened and Olivia tracked a mop of blond hair to a blue car.

    How does this work again? I just press the little button in my pocket, right? Or was it on the microphone? No, pocket. She looked up from her aerial fumbling and realized she¡¯d lost the car, now no longer parked. After a long moment, heart pounding, she caught sight of him again, further ahead than where she expected. ¡°There he is,¡± she said, a little louder and faster than she intended, into the little mic on her shirt collar. ¡°Uh, it¡¯s blue. It went west.¡±

    ¡°Stay calm. Let us know when he starts moving,¡± said Nomad. Olivia had to keep herself from jumping at the sound of a voice in her ear.

    ¡°OK,¡± she replied. I guess I sounded panicked. I definitely was.

    She climbed to get a better view, directing the others as best she could on the turns. At their ungodly hour of the night, she only had a tiny number of cars to filter out to keep track of their target. I don¡¯t think I could do this early on a Friday night. They only had a short drive, maybe fifteen minutes, before they pulled into a residential zone of small houses. Eventually, he pulled up onto a driveway of a house. On Olivia¡¯s signal, Ben parked them a ways down the street to take stock.

    ¡°No garage, no other cars. Looks like it¡¯s just him. Olivia, anythin¡¯ out back?¡± asked Ben. I can hear him grinning.

    She wheeled around, getting a view of the back of the little house. Aside from a patchy lawn and a dead tree in the corner, she couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary from her vantage on high. ¡°No. I mean, there¡¯s nothing there. You know¡­¡± Why am I so stupid?

    ¡°We¡¯re bringing up the car. Olivia, stay up there and keep an eye out. Let us know if there¡¯s anyone approaching,¡± came the far more reserved voice of Nomad.

    ¡°OK.¡± I can do that. Hang on. ¡°What if someone does?¡±

    ¡°Just let us know. We¡¯ll figure it out from there.¡±

    Olivia circled as they parked a few doors down across the street. No lights came on in the surrounding houses. They hustled through the fence and over to the back door. Olivia couldn''t catch what they did from her angle, but the next pass the backyard lay empty. This isn¡¯t so bad. Everyone is asleep. It¡¯s just like before.

    ¡°Could use your help in here,¡± said Ben over the comms, breaking Olivia¡¯s train of thought. His head poked out the back door.

    She dove, pulling up with a pump of her wings to keep from slamming her legs into the ground. ¡°What do you need?¡± she asked.

    Ben reached up to pat her on the shoulder. ¡°Come in. Just gotta look scary. Got nothin¡¯ to be afraid of with this guy.¡±

    He led her through the screen door in the back of the house, passing through a small dining table with a single chair. The claws of her feet clicked as they hit the grimy linoleum floor with every step. Olivia glanced at a few pictures hung up on the walls as they headed to the basement, as well as a flag she didn¡¯t recognize. The ambient sounds of the city dimmed when they reached the unfinished basement, impassive concrete making up all the floors and walls. Delta leaned against a few rugged plastic boxes shoved into a corner.

    A familiar scent caught her nose, strong enough now she could place it. Does he have a gun? Is he going to attack again? Olivia spread her wings halfway out and let out a low hiss. Concrete cracked as she dug her feet in, ready to push forward.

    ¡°Jesus! What the fuck?¡± They had a blond man tied up in the center of the basement, tied tight to a chair that matched the one in the kitchen. He struggled against the cords holding him, heavily favoring one arm.

    ¡°You see what I¡¯m sayin¡¯?¡± said Ben with a laugh. ¡°She wants to walk over here, not much you or I can do about it. I might be able to persuade her, but you gotta give me a reason to.¡±

    ¡°Easy, easy.¡± It took her a moment to realize Nomad had joined her at the base of the steps, and was talking to her instead of Michael. Oh, yeah, I was supposed to look scary, she thought, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Was I angry instead?

    ¡°Well, how about it? Not askin¡¯ for everythin¡¯ you know. Just keep in mind she ain¡¯t exactly your friend,¡± said Ben, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Olivia. She kept her eyes locked on him, making absolutely certain he wouldn¡¯t try to attack any of them.

    ¡°You can stop growling under your breath,¡± Nomad murmured to her as Ben leaned in, demanding Michael¡¯s attention.

    ¡°What?¡± Olivia replied.

    ¡°He got the message. You might make him panic and do something dumb.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she mumbled. She pulled her wings back and hid her clawed hands behind her back.

    ¡°I don''t know much, I¡¯m just a delivery guy,¡± said Michael to Ben.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± prodded Ben. ¡°Spit it out.¡±

    ¡°The Arena. You might catch someone important there.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°I dunno,¡± replied Michael, before Ben even finished his question.

    Ben looked over his shoulder to Olivia. ¡°I think he¡¯s lyin¡¯ to you.¡± Olivia frowned. What? We¡¯re all here. Why me specifically?

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Michael twisted in his chair. ¡°Wait, wait. It¡¯s under a fancy steakhouse outside the shantytown. I¡¯ve only been there a couple times for a show myself.¡±

    Once he spat out the address, Ben ruffled his hair. ¡°Thank you very much. Gimme a sec.¡±

    He teleported over and motioned everyone out of the room, save Nomad who kept watch. Are we done?

    ¡°Need anythin¡¯ else outta him? I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll give up much else,¡± Ben asked under his breath.

    ¡°That location looks promising,¡± said Delta, her voice masked by her helmet. ¡°I¡¯m looking at it now, something is off about it.¡±

    ¡°Good. You two wanna get the car ready?¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± replied Delta. She led Olivia out and to their car, Nomad and Ben following soon after. She saw no sign of Michael inside the house as they left.

    ***

    They pulled back into their auto shop and climbed out of Ben¡¯s car. Olivia stretched her wings and tail the moment she got free. Stupid chairs. And cars, for having chairs. Amanda unlocked the back door for them, the heavy lock letting out a metallic clunk as it withdrew. They spread out once inside, stripping off holsters and shoes.

    ¡°Arena. You two know what he was talkin¡¯ about, right?¡± asked Ben, continuing the conversation that had started during their drive.

    ¡°We¡¯ve heard of it,¡± replied Nomad, laying down his belt on top of a faded plastic box lid.

    ¡°We have?¡± muttered Amanda beside him.

    ¡°Yeah. Did you pay attention to the briefings?¡±

    ¡°I guess not,¡± she replied with a shrug.

    ¡°The basement of a restaurant seems a bit small for what the Arena should be. At least, what we¡¯ve heard of it,¡± said Nomad with a shake of his head. Wait, what exactly is it? ¡°Is he sending us on a wild goose chase?¡±

    Ben shrugged. ¡°Probably not. Seemed too scared for that. They coulda expanded the basement. Or maybe it¡¯s just a tunnel to somewhere else. Maybe it¡¯s just a bunch of TV¡¯s and hot chicks serving drinks.¡±

    ¡°If I can keep us hidden, other people can do the same for whatever they¡¯re doing,¡± Amanda pointed out. ¡°It¡¯s not completely ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s TV¡¯s. That seems less visceral than its reputation would suggest,¡± said Nomad.

    ¡°Just throwin¡¯ out ideas.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Delta, is there any way to scan into the ground in some way, figure out what we¡¯ll be dealing with?¡± asked Nomad.

    She stared at him for a moment, as if he suggested she sprout wings and fly. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Alright, sorry I asked,¡± replied Nomad, holding his hands up in mock surrender at her tone.

    ¡°Let me rephrase. I could get it set up in a month, not a day. I¡¯ve been meaning to get a GPR system up and running for the challenge of it, but most of the time people just want above ground stuff.¡±

    Olivia took a seat on an empty section of table as they talked, tail hanging off the side. Amanda took a chair near her, opening up the laptop set up beside her.

    ¡°GPR?¡± Olivia leaned over and whispered. I hope that''s not a dumb question.

    ¡°Ground penetrating radar,¡± replied Amanda.

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna be guarded no matter what. It¡¯s close to the shantytown. Any place expensive is gonna need security. I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ I¡¯ll take a drive or two past, get some eyes on it.¡±

    ¡°Could I come with you?¡± asked Amanda, after a moment¡¯s hesitation. Hey! You asked Ben a question without being mean! Will he also not be mean? ¡°I want to see what my gear can pick up.¡±

    ¡°Sure¡± he replied. ¡°Wanna wait for mornin¡¯ so there¡¯s other cars on the road to blend in with?¡± Yay!

    ¡°Makes sense. That sounds good.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got to move fast,¡± explained Nomad. ¡°If they figure out what happened to Michael we might be walking into an ambush. We¡¯re not the cops, they won¡¯t be afraid of overwhelming force from us.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°We probably don¡¯t have enough time before sun up tonight.¡±

    Nomad nodded in agreement. ¡°Tomorrow night.¡±

    Four hours passed by in a blur for Olivia. She found herself unable to take a moment to herself. With three other people around instead of just herself, there was always something. Talking, clicking, breathing, all around her constantly. The effort to keep herself from doing something stupid at all times weighed her down more and more as the hours ticked by.

    Sitting and doing nothing while everyone else worked struck her as wrong on a moral, fundamental level, so she found herself pacing in an out of the way corner of the abandoned auto shop they now called home. Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted Ben loading a few magazines for his pistol. We¡¯re just going to keep doing this, aren¡¯t we? If I¡¯m going to help, I might as well do it more on my terms. Something stopped her. What if this is a stupid question though? I don¡¯t want to waste his time. But I can¡¯t just keep sitting here. She forced herself to walk up to him after a few minutes of gathering her courage.

    ¡°Um, Ben?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± he replied, popping out another bullet from its cardboard box.

    ¡°How do you deal with someone?¡±

    ¡°Deal with? You mean killin¡¯ ¡®em? Guns work,¡± he replied with a shrug. He smacked the last bullet into the magazine with the palm of his hand.

    ¡°No! No, not kill. Just, you know, stop them.¡± Am I not making sense?

    ¡°Killin¡¯ stops.¡±

    Amanda, across the room and hunched over her work, called out, ¡°That¡¯s not what she means, jackass. She wants to help.¡± Thank you. You could not be mean though.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to fight,¡± Olivia mumbled.

    He grinned. ¡°You got claws. Those¡¯ll work. Fuck, you already use ¡®em just fine.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to claw people. There¡¯s a better way, right?¡±

    ¡°Alright, I think I got¡¯cha. Help me clear this out,¡± he said, gesturing to a few boxes around a clearing in the workshop.

    See? I listened, Amanda. Amanda met her eyes, gave her a quick thumbs up, then returned to routing cables. Ben and Olivia shoved a half full pallet covered in boxes out of the way, and cleaned up a few old, rusty tools Nomad had left scattered. Apparently one of the toilets didn¡¯t work, despite Amanda doing her voodoo magic to ensure the building was connected to the city¡¯s utility grid. Ben squared up, undaunted by the fact he only came up to her shoulder. Olivia copied his stance as best she could without putting too much weight on her heel claws.

    ¡°Know anythin¡¯ at all about fightin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get started!¡± he said with a laugh. ¡°Basics first. Gotta get control. Pain is a fantastic way to do that if you want someone down. Works on you, too, keep that in mind. Throwin¡¯ a punch an¡¯ breakin¡¯ your hand is a bad way to fight.¡±

    Ben walked her through where to hit, and how. Elbows didn¡¯t feel as much as palms, as he demonstrated by smacking hers. Notions of mercy or fair play were tossed aside before she could voice them.

    ¡°Good. Now twist. Like that,¡± said Ben as Olivia held his arm in a joint lock. ¡°Keep twisting until-yeah! There!¡±

    Oops. ¡°Sorry,¡± said Olivia, letting his arm go.

    ¡°No, don¡¯t let go,¡± said Ben. ¡°You gotta learn how far you can go before serious shit starts to break, not stop when they yell out or somethin¡¯. Let¡¯s try again.¡±

    I don¡¯t want to hurt you though. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not good at this,¡± Olivia mumbled.

    He said, ¡°The hell you talkin¡¯ about? You got reach, an¡¯ are faster than you look. You can use that. Also, you could treat someone hittin¡¯ you like a light breeze, so that''s good too. We¡¯ve been doin¡¯ this for about twenty minutes, just gotta practice.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. OK.¡±

    ¡°¡®liv¡¯, if they throw a punch, they mean it. What you do to ¡®em, they¡¯ll happily do to you,¡± said Ben. ¡°Hey, you wanna know how to get someone down without killin¡¯ ¡®em, you gotta have self-control. Remember, it¡¯s all about control. You coulda ripped my arm off if you wanted to there. But I think you need to learn to shoot.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Olivia.

    Ben replied, ¡°Cuz they¡¯re gonna be shootin¡¯ at you. I would, if I had to fight you for real. The reason we use guns is cuz you can kill somethin¡¯ without gettin¡¯ next to it. Any person, alien, or animal can fight up close. I say it¡¯d be good if you knew how, instead of just sittin¡¯ there lookin¡¯ sad an¡¯ scared. Pity will only get you so far.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± said Olivia quietly. I¡¯m still not OK with it.

    They continued for a while, until Amanda called Ben over to help load and hide her equipment in the back of his car. Nomad waved Olivia over as they seperated. ¡°Skulker giving you a hard time?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No. And why do you call him Skulker? His real name is Ben, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t know him that well though. It seems professional.¡±

    ¡°You guys are the only people I know. What¡¯s your name?¡± I don¡¯t want to keep calling you Nomad. That just seems impersonal.

    ¡°Chris. And if you know him, are you sure Skulker¡¯s not just putting you through some song and dance routine?¡±

    ¡°No. I asked him to show me stuff.¡± She leaned up against the wall next to him. Her wings pushed into her back, though standing right back up would look weird.

    ¡°Stuff?¡± he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into the beginnings of a smile.

    ¡°You know,¡± she replied. ¡°I was hoping there was a way to stop people. But without killing them.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good to learn. That¡¯s very good. It takes a bigger person to go with the harder route.¡±

    ¡°Big?¡± I know I¡¯m kind of tall. What does that have to do with it?

    ¡°Let me think of how to put that.¡± He paused, staring off into the distance. Olivia tracked his gaze only to find an unadorned wall on the other side of the room. The silence stretched on, until Olivia considered saying something to break it. ¡°My foster father taught me that to be a big man,¡± he cut himself off again. ¡°Well, I guess that works for you too. Big isn¡¯t just physical, though it¡¯s part of it.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°If you tell someone to fuck off, you have the means to make that happen. You are bigger and stronger than almost everyone else. Like Skulker said, you have a hundred pounds and over a foot of reach on him. If you want him gone, you can make him gone, and there¡¯s not much he can do about it. People will know this. Don¡¯t throw around threats idly, or people will hate you for it.¡±

    ¡°But I don¡¯t do that!¡± Olivia protested.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying you do, or should. It¡¯s an example. I guess I¡¯m not wording this right. Don¡¯t throw obvious power around? For us at least. Don¡¯t let that little episode with Michael fool you, being intimidating is rarely the way to go.¡±

    ¡°For them too?¡± asked Olivia, motioning to Amanda and Ben across the shop.

    ¡°They¡¯re different. Amanda is too clever for her own good. I¡¯ve only known Skulker for a day but I can already tell you he¡¯s weird. The point I¡¯m trying to make here is if you say something, be able and willing to back it up. And if you tell someone to fuck off, and the only way you have to do that at your disposal is to rip their throat out...¡± He trailed off, letting her fill in the blank.

    ¡°Choice is good.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Footsteps caught Olivia¡¯s attention as Amanda approached Chris. Their conversation trailed off.

    ¡°If you really need to make a call, use this,¡± she said without preamble. Call? What call? Is this something they both knew about? She passed Chris an old brick of a phone. He flipped it open with a hefty click. ¡°The feds will be able to hear this conversation. It¡¯s not a question of if. They will.¡±

    ¡°OK. Thank you.¡± With a nod, Amanda returned to her station.

    ¡°Who are you calling?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°My girlfriend.¡± Chris let out a mirthless laugh. ¡°Maybe ex. I¡¯m about to find out. If you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d rather not have an audience for this. Go get some sleep, we¡¯ll need everyone at the top of their game tonight.¡±

 20: Dragon

    Chapter 20: Dragon

    Olivia looked down on the steakhouse below, breathing in deep through her nose. That place smells good. That place smells really really good. Despite being surrounded by a cinder block fence with broken glass spread along the top, the restaurant otherwise appeared sleek and modern. The floor to ceiling windows taking up a full wall offered a phenomenal view of the mountains to the west while the sun was up. Two men lounged near the delivery entrance, far from the view of the parking lot. One professional looking man in sunglasses and a suit stood off to the side of the main entrance.

    ¡°Is everyone ready?¡± asked Olivia. She kept her eyes on the back entrance, nervous that something would happen if she broke sight for even a minute.

    ¡°We cool,¡± responded Ben, on the ground with Amanda and Chris.

    ¡°Alright, Olivia. Start us off,¡± said Chris. She shot him a concerned look at the sound of his calmer than usual voice. His earlier call with his girlfriend sounded heated, at least before Olivia reminded herself to stop being weird and eavesdropping on other people.

    ¡°OK.¡± Deep breath.

    She dove off the side of her building with wings spread and climbed into the air, too high for anyone on the ground to see. Are there four guys down there? No, just three. Her view, far clearer than the satellite image Amanda had shown her of the area, brought her to where Amanda expected the blind spot on the roof cameras to be. She dropped straight down, pulling up at the last moment and pumping her wings to land as light as possible on the roof.

    ¡°Did that work?¡± Olivia asked into her comm after a silent moment.

    ¡°No alarm we can see. Set up the jammer, we¡¯ll see you on the ground,¡± said Amanda.

    Olivia pulled a blunt spike from a cavernous pocket on her pants and extended the three legs on the tapered end. Her clawed fingertips slipped against the metal exterior a few times before she managed to pull the telescoping antenna from the top. She flicked the switch on the spike just like Amanda had shown her. OK. Now that means that there are no signals going through here, including ours. I think. I kind of stopped paying attention when she said ¡®destructive interference¡¯ and ¡®hard line¡¯. She took flight once more, gliding to the back delivery entrance with its two guards.

    Chris, in liquid form, slid harmlessly over the glass on the wall to the side, signaling her next part. She tucked in her wings and dove once more. At the last moment, Olivia snapped her wings out, cutting her fall. She let her feet carry forward, landing behind the man. She spotted the radio on one hip, gun at the other. Before he could turn around at the sound of her hitting the ground, she wrapped one arm around his neck, her free hand ripping the pistol and holster from his belt.

    The man thrashed momentarily, then drove an elbow into her rib while grabbing at her arm. She blinked. Wait, how did Ben say how to do this? Is it the air or the blood you cut off? He tugged more urgently at her arm, gasping out something incomprehensible. Blood. I think the windpipe can be crushed? That sounds bad. After nearly slipping and letting him go twice, she applied pressure to the side of the man¡¯s neck until he stopped thrashing. Still breathing? Yes. Good. That¡¯s way better than claws. To the side, liquid Chris set down his own unconscious target and reverted to human, shivering for a moment.

    ¡°Good work,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s get this door open while Skulker and Delta climb.¡±

    It took them only a moment to find the button to open the garage door as the other two joined them. They jogged down the concrete driveway to a mostly empty parking lot. Now underground and out of where they could scout, they only had guesswork to go on to find any information of value. Thankfully, of the two exits they could see, one was labeled elevator maintenance. After a few tries, Olivia rammed down the other set of double doors across the lot with her shoulder. She found herself in an empty waiting room with cushioned benches lining the walls. One large window led to a room lined with coat hangers, its lights dim.

    ¡°They¡¯ll figure out somethin¡¯s fucky real quick,¡± said Ben. He pulled out his pistol and led the way before Olivia could say anything. You¡¯d better not get shot for this.

    They made their way through the carpeted hall ahead, past framed posters of various hosted fighters and advertisements. I hear some machines humming. Not many people though. Muffled urgent talking reached her from the left side of the T intersection just ahead. I spoke too soon.

    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Chris, spinning around as Olivia trailed to a stop.

    ¡°Up ahead, on the left. They¡¯re heading towards us.¡± I think.

    ¡°What? Who¡¯s not responding? ¡­ Got it, boss. Wait, you just said¡­¡± she heard a man say through the door. They¡¯re trying to figure out what¡¯s going on.

    ¡°They sound worried,¡± she added.

    Ben knelt down at the edge of the wall and poked his head around the corner. ¡°No one yet,¡± he said, voice hushed. ¡°We attackin¡¯ or goin¡¯ the other way?¡±

    ¡°Other way,¡± replied Chris, without hesitation. We¡¯re here for stuff, not a fight.

    They rushed down the slowly curving hallway to a series of doors. The one straight ahead labeled VIP smelled of steak, though Olivia could only see tables stacked with overturned chairs through the window. That left them with a door to a staircase leading down, with landings leading out into the Arena beyond.

    Olivia looked out on the way down, doing a double take. The subterranean arena, even only partially lit, spread out as far as she could see. Seats circled the sunken square in the center. The air in the cavern brought with it a strong hint of blood. More voices, more urgent, reached her from far across the Arena.

    After several dead ends and useless rooms, they finally ran into something guarded. Olivia heard murmurs and breathing ahead and pulled the group to a stop. After a moment¡¯s pause, she realized the guards weren''t moving.

    ¡°They know we¡¯re here,¡± she whispered to the others. ¡°They¡¯re standing by something.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s fuck ¡®em up,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Bulletproof people first,¡± said Chris, nodding to Olivia. They still hurt!

    Ben shrugged. ¡°Must be nice. Let¡¯s do this.¡± Chris and Olivia rounded the corner.

    The expansive room had several large aquariums, taking up the whole wall to either side and stocked with colorful fish. On the other side stood the two guards. Too far to run without getting shot a lot. And I don¡¯t think Ben can teleport quite that far. One guard had his head down, hand to his ear. The other looked around nervously, Olivia could see sweat bead up on his forehead. His head snapped to them the moment they came into view, his rifle coming up.

    ¡°Fuck, intruders,¡± he yelled. His fellow guard jumped.

    Chris fired a few shots, hitting one. The return fire from the other guard forced him into liquid form, the bullets plunging into his amorphous light blue form. Two more caught Olivia in the side. Before she could rush him, Ben teleported to the other end of the room and fired, bringing the other guard down. Ow. Ringing is back. Very loud ringing. Ow.

    ¡°Must be nice, not dyin¡¯ when shot,¡± he said, teleporting over and nudging Olivia in her non-shot side. She forced herself not to look at the bodies as they passed. At least I didn''t do that.

    They found themselves in what looked to be a richly decorated office. A computer monitor stood on the desk, alongside a whisky bottle and an empty glass. Filing cabinets lined the walls behind the high backed chair.

    ¡°This looks promising,¡± said Amanda, pulling a cable from her armor and plugging it into the computer. She examined a sticky note at the bottom of the monitor. ¡°Ah, old computer illiterate people, never change.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go through the papers and watch her back,¡± said Chris, letting his rifle rest against his chest on its sling. ¡°You two get us time. See if you can keep our route out of here clear.¡±

    We¡¯re splitting up? Before Olivia could respond, Ben replied, ¡°You got it.¡± I guess if Ben thinks it¡¯s OK¡­

    The guards had finally mustered in force as Olivia and Ben retraced their steps. Several had taken cover behind what appeared to be a concession stand built into the wall, its metal shutter pulled halfway up. Bullets filled the air the moment Olivia rounded the corner, several smacking her in the chest and doubling her over until Ben bodily hauled her around the corner.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Olivia said, ¡°I can¡¯t get through all that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep shootin¡¯ at them here, you go around,¡± he barked, blindly returning fire with his pistol.

    Good. I was really hoping he wouldn¡¯t have me just go forward, towards the shooting guys again. I¡¯m tired of getting shot.

    She backed up as a few more bullets hit Ben¡¯s door frame. She turned around and ran, looking for a door to her left that would lead her around. Every room was a dead end. Third room, no. Fourth room, no. Wasting time. Olivia came to a stop. No. How¡­ More gunshots. I¡¯m wasting time. She considered retracing her steps. I need a way through. The longer I take, the longer Ben¡¯s getting shot at. Wait, through.

    She turned to face where she estimated the guard shooting at the others. She lowered her shoulder and rammed through the wall, heedless of whatever lay on the other side.

    A mop handle smacked her in the face as she wound up in a storage closet. This isn¡¯t where I need to be.

    She repeated the process in the same direction, this time pushing through some pipes as well as drywall and wooden framing. A bathroom. Tile clattered to the floor as she thought, come on. What next? Come on!

    She hissed and slashed at the wall out of frustration, removing a decent sized chunk of it. With a roar she rammed through a wall with underlying pipes.

    That got Olivia through. Her vision oriented to the guards turning towards her entrance with horror. They stared at each other for a split second as she shrugged a bit of wood from her shoulder. She rushed forward, hitting the first guard with the back of her hand instead of her claws like Ben had shown her. He staggered back a few steps and dropped, the rest of his fellows either shooting or running.

    In the confusion, Ben teleported in behind them, bringing down the runners as Olivia waded through dwindling gunfire. Ow, ow, ow. Once the gunfire died down completely, she picked up the sounds of the last one running full speed away on the opposite side of the hallway.

    ¡°Fuck this shit,¡± she heard over his panting.

    Ben teleported in front of her, joining her in pursuit. They found themselves in a room full of cages, most empty. The rest, however, had large dogs, now barking their heads off at the noise. Cage doors rattled as some smacked into them, some trying to escape, some just turning and spinning.

    ¡°Come on. You want to play with ferals?¡± muttered the guard in front of the panel of an enormous steel cage thing.

    Ben stopped at the door, grabbing the frame with one hand to stop himself, aiming with the other. He squeezed off a couple shots, and the guard screamed something. Olivia finally caught up a few moments later. The cage door began to open, as well as another on the opposite side of the room, opening to the Arena. Some thumps shook the floor. Now what?

    She looked to the opening cage. The enormous green thing halfway out of it was hard to miss.

    ¡°Umm¡­¡± What¡­ what is that?

    Ben chuckled. ¡°Olivia,¡± he said, pointing. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty standard feral.¡±

    The only remaining vestiges of humanity left in it that Olivia could make out appeared to be the face and limbs. Two mandibles tore through the stretched cheeks of the disturbingly human face of the mantis thing on the front of the head fused to the rest of the body. If forced to guess, Olivia would have to say the face belonged to a male, though the pincers and the very wide gap between the bulging compound eyes made it hard to tell.

    Slabs of mottled green and brown chitin armor covered the main body, as long as two people put together. A ridge broke the otherwise smooth plate over the spine. Two arms extended from between the chest and back chitin plates of the upper half. Jagged spines jutted out from beneath the skin of the forearm of the otherwise normal, human sized arm on the right.

    The left arm gave Olivia a pause for thought. With the base segment easily as thick as her leg, and covered in the same chitin armor as the main body, the extra third segment of the arm in place of a hand folded back towards the forearm. More unevenly distributed spikes covered the interior inside the second and third segments.

    Four legs on the lower half of the body supported the feral, each a different conglomeration of human and insect leg. Three ended in a gigantic, somewhat human foot, the last just sort of stopped with a strange stick thing at the end.

    Ew. He smells awful, too. Like¡­ I don¡¯t even know what. Something¡¯s rotting, though, I know that much.

    It made a few clicks as its mandibles twitched, advancing a few slow steps and letting out a dry hiss of air through its ruined mouth, ignoring the dying guard to its side at the controls for the cage. He¡¯s taller than me. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met someone taller than me.

    ¡°You know, funny thing,¡± said Ben, backing up a pace or so. ¡°Bugs like praying mantises can¡¯t get that big, cuz they don¡¯t got lungs or somethin¡¯. Looks like that one¡¯s got human lungs. Also, it¡¯s gonna eat us if it gets half the chance. Just sayin¡¯.¡± He aimed and fired. Praying mantis. And it¡¯ll eat you and me. OK.

    The feral gave an approximation of a snarl and rushed forward, three bullets lodged in its chest plate. Olivia stepped forward, feet digging into the floor and bracing herself. You stay away from him. The insect arm flashed as he bore down on her, faster than she could see, and suddenly Olivia was yanked off her feet.

    Ow. Wing. Its momentum carried two of them forward, bursting them through the door frame and into the Arena proper. The arm had caught her by the wing, catching the bone. The feral thrashed her a bit, she had no leverage to fight back with, then threw her on the ground, released her wing, and stomped on her shoulder to pin her down.

    She grabbed at the offending leg, claws driving into the flesh of the calf under the randomly distributed flecks of chitin embedded in the skin. She pulled and rolled on the floor as best she could, ducking her head down as the arm flashed again towards her head. She felt the thud as it hit the ground, pulling some of her hair with it. OW.

    She tore a chunk of leg off, the feral reared back because that shit hurts, and then she was free. It collided with the hallway wall, leaving a rather large dent.

    Ben fired more shots as Olivia struggled to her feet, back to the feral. Bad idea. And everything smells all coppery now. Other than the occasional wheeze of air and click, the feral remained silent.

    Olivia spun around just in time for the feral to ram into her with its chest, knocking her back a few paces as her weight rocked back on her solitary heel claws. I hate my feet.

    The feral tried the same tactic again, going with its forward momentum. This time, Olivia was ready. She dug in and grabbed its torso. Shoving forwards and upwards, she lifted it off its front two legs. She advanced two paces, then twisted it and slammed it down to its right as hard as she could. The arena floor groaned and shattered.

    A hole began to open up. The feral scrambled at the expanding edge. The stick foot caught, the other slipped and the feral tumbled down.

    She jumped down after it, landing feet first on its back as it stood up again. She bent her legs slightly on impact, and threw her hand down close to its head. It thrashed, slamming her into a wall, trying to dislodge her, partially succeeding. Another slam finished the job.

    What is that wall made of?

    ¡°Fuck off!¡± said Ben from the floor above.

    Ben teleported down and onto its back. With a laugh he hacked down with a long knife into the central chink in the armor, the one allowing it to maintain an upright posture with all the hard chitin plates covering it.

    The feral reacted, bucking and trying to twist in his direction. He brought the knife down again, and again making contact with something squishy below the armor, then threw himself backwards before its human arm could grab him. He rolled with the impact to the ground, past Olivia and out of her field of view.

    Before the feral could turn its attention fully to him, Olivia pulled herself from the wall and grabbed something metal. She swung it, hitting the flank of the feral with a sizable length of pipe. It began to turn towards her.

    You¡¯re not too focused.

    She let go, the pipe bent too far out of shape to be used again and dug partially into the feral anyways, and ducked to the side and away from the grabbing pincer arm thing.

    ¡°Move outta the way!¡± yelled Ben. Huh?

    Something hit her neck, and her feet lifted off the floor again. The feral¡¯s arm wrapped around her throat, spikes digging into her windpipe. The other arm grabbed for her eyes.

    She intercepted the human arm with her closest hand, the other to the mantis arm crushing her throat. She held a tight grip on the struggling human arm, pulling hard on the mantis one. Air!

    She made progress, slow progress but progress nonetheless, on the strangling arm. It lifted her so they were face to face, mandibles nearly brushing her face. There was something rotting in that mouth. Stop it. Kill him.

    A gunshot. This time the feral reacted, flinching away from Ben. Another gunshot. More coppery smell.

    Olivia wrenched herself free, still holding on to the human arm. She growled and slashed at the elbow with her free hand, pulling simultaneously. The forearm came free, and the feral let out a rasp as its brand new stump leaked brown, copper smelling blood.

    Another gunshot, and thick chitin shattered where the bullet hit it in the flank. A trickle of the same brownish blood oozed out. The feral backed up. Come here. She tossed the severed arm to the side.

    She roared as she threw herself forward at the reeling feral, striking down on its chest, resulting in four satisfying bloody gouges in the chest plate. She hit again with the same result as the feral backed up some more.

    Its remaining arm shot out and arrested her motion as she came in for a third swing. No. She reached up, wrestling past the mantis arm and driving her thumb claw into one of its eyes. It released her arm as its limbs spasmed.

    She dove to the side, wrapping a hand around its front leg. She drove a hand into the side of the knee. It shattered. The feral stumbled with another rasp. She pushed through the debris to latch on to the side and bring her hand down hard on the chitin plate. Her claws dug in, and she yanked. Something inside tore, and the feral thrashed, trying to make his tormentor stop.

    She tugged her embedded claws out, the segment hanging a lot looser than it had before. The feral let out another rasp, and the mantis arm struck out in a chopping motion. Now with the feral weakened, the arm moved slow enough for her to block it, to keep it from lifting her off her feet once again. She batted it aside, and grabbed for the gouge she¡¯d made earlier, deepening the wound.

    She rushed forward, grabbing as she¡¯d done earlier, this time not stopping until she¡¯d lifted the feral up and crunched its spine against the ground.

    She considered it for a moment. Dead? Something appeared at her side. She jumped, nearly swinging her clawed hand into it out of reflex. Now what? Oh, it¡¯s Ben.

    ¡°Well that panned out quite nicely. Is it dead?¡± he asked, pistol at the ready.

    She looked back down at the feral. Two legs twitched, and the arm began feebly pushing upwards. Still alive? Ben took aim, exhaled, and fired into its head. Movement stopped.

    ¡°There we go. You all right?¡±

    I¡¯m breathing. Wing, throat, and shoulder kind of hurt. Nothing too bad. She nodded.

    ¡°Cool! Let¡¯s get up there an¡¯ check on the others, make sure they haven¡¯t shot their own feet off or somethin¡¯.¡± He put away his gun and teleported back up to the edge of the arena. Olivia followed.

    That was¡­ intense. And why would Ben say something like that? That¡¯s not funny.

 21: Black and White

    Chapter 21: Black and White

    With the main group of guards dealt with, along with their pet feral, Olivia and Ben held their ground at the main stairwell leading out of the Arena. Only a few more gang members probed at them, in ones and twos who quickly backpedaled once they realized the situation. Chris and Amanda didn¡¯t take long, hurrying up to meet them with a backpack full of documents and drives. They retraced their steps out of the Arena, though their pace slowed at the sight of the feral sized hole Olivia left in the middle of the cavern. They froze at the entrance to the garage.

    ¡°Trap?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°We haven¡¯t seen anyone in a while.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± said Chris, turning liquid and poking a lump of himself around the corner. He snapped back a moment later. ¡°Clear.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t there be sirens?¡± asked Olivia, as they stepped into the night air. That always seems to happen when we get into fights. I do hear a lot of engines around though.

    ¡°You think a gang is gonna call the cops?¡± asked Ben, incredulous. ¡°You think anyone heard those guns when we¡¯re underground like that?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± she replied with a slump of her shoulders. Why am I so stupid? At least that mantis guy didn¡¯t look like he was worrying about anything at all. Is that what I¡¯m supposed to be?

    ¡°Why the fuck you apologizin¡¯?¡±

    Before Olivia could think of a reply, Amanda snapped, ¡°Leave her alone.¡± Ben shrugged as he ran, but kept quiet. How could I answer that question? Olivia frowned. I¡¯m tired of never being able to answer questions. Why did I apologize?

    As the others reached the concrete wall covered in broken glass that ringed the steakhouse, Olivia took flight once more. She circled a few times, no longer caring about whether cameras might see her. The sound of engines in the night stood out to her, approaching fast. She disassembled the signal blocker she¡¯d set up on the roof and pushed the button on her mic once the airwaves were clear.

    ¡°Can you guys hear me?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Yeah. How are we looking?¡± replied Chris.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything, but there are a lot of cars approaching pretty quick,¡± replied Olivia.

    ¡°From our car?¡±

    ¡°Um, maybe? I don¡¯t think I understood.¡± Why would they be coming from our car? They have their own.

    ¡°The direction they are coming from. Will we run into them when we get to our car?¡± clarified Chris, the pace of his voice picking up as he talked. Right, talk faster.

    ¡°No.¡± Sorry, I¡¯m stupid.

    ¡°Alright, meet us over the wall, let¡¯s get out of here.¡±

    Olivia glided off the edge of the steakhouse and over the wall, joining the others in their dash to their escape. Ben teleported ahead with the keys. They dove into a jeep already started, if rattling horribly, and ready to go. Soon enough, they left the steakhouse behind as Ben took them on a winding route through the city.

    They drove north through the dark streets in silence, passing no other cars. Olivia shifted nervously in her seat, resisting the urge to puff out her wings. We¡¯re kind of sticking out. If anyone looks into the windows they might see me. It feels like we¡¯re being watched. The others left their faces bare for that exact reason. Ben had a scanner built into the car¡¯s radio to listen in on the police band. They definitely noticed something at the steakhouse, but no one called in about them specifically.

    As the jeep rounded a corner, they came face to face with a pair of trucks parked in the street, leaving only one car width between them. The moment they came into view, someone in black stepped out of the second truck. Olivia caught sight of an image of a white eye on the masked man¡¯s shoulder as he raised his hand, motioning them to stop.

    ¡°Fuck that!¡± said Ben with a laugh. He put on his mask in one fluid motion, Chris pulled up his bandana, and Amanda fumbled with her helmet.

    Ben spun the wheel as hard as he could and gunned the engine. The jeep hit the curb, jolting the occupants, and drove along the sidewalk, refusing to be stuck where the eye people wanted them to be. The trucks roared to life just behind them.

    Amanda called out, ¡°What, these guys aren¡¯t just unmarked?¡±

    ¡°No, they¡¯re the Watch,¡± replied Chris. Olivia heard guns going off and Chris yelled, ¡°Keep your head down.¡± Easy for him to say.

    ¡°Who?¡± Olivia asked Amanda beside her.

    ¡°Organized vigilantes,¡± she replied back, voice now projected by the helmet. A bullet snapped past. ¡°Basically a militia.¡± I don¡¯t know what that means.

    They tore away from the trucks, who naturally had no problem closing the gap with their rattling old ride. An orange beam of light passed by them, narrowly missing Ben¡¯s door. What was that? Olivia eyed the door handle next to her, her wings bent and aching. She shuddered a bit. I¡¯m not going to abandon everyone just to save myself. She winced as they came within two inches of being hit by a pursuing truck again. Though not being in here would be great. She was jolted back to reality when the truck made contact, causing Ben to almost lose control.

    Olivia doubled over at the sharp sound of the impact, metal shrieking and snapping. Oh, this is going to be a recurring thing isn¡¯t it? Painful, painful noises. She gritted her teeth and forced herself upright. Gotta get used to it.

    Another laser lanced out from behind them, striking the wheel just in front of Ben, melting it into slag. Ben lost control, and the car flipped and rolled, coming to a stop on its own roof.

    It took a few moments for Olivia to regain her bearings. She wasn¡¯t hurt, but she wasn¡¯t sure of the others. She smelled blood, not her own. Chris had turned into goo before impact, he was reforming, albeit slower than she had seen before. Liquid Chris had no blood, so by process of elimination that left Ben and Amanda. He hung there by his seat belt, the airbag had deployed and filled the majority of the space up front. Amanda groaned, shifting in her own seat belt and jostling Olivia¡¯s right wing, still sore from the thrashing the mantis feral had given it.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    She could still hear a heart beating and lungs drawing in breath from Ben, so at least he was still alive. She could also hear the trucks drive up, the click of weapons and the impact of boots on the asphalt. We need to get out of here. She punched a claw through the buckle of her seat belt, releasing her and sending her curling into the roof below her. With footsteps fast approaching, she twisted to get herself back upright as much as possible. She kicked at the door beside her, sending it flying off its hinges. Oops. Oh well, Ben needs a new car at this point anyways.

    She crawled out and froze. Nearly a dozen armed members of the Watch, all with that eye insignia on their right shoulder, began to form a semicircle around the upside down jeep. She saw Chris, still in liquid form, flow out of the broken window on his side. Ben and Amanda began to stir, pulling themselves out.

    Olivia looked back at the Watch members. A woman called out ¡°Come out with your hands up. Don¡¯t make this harder than it has to be.¡± In a normal voice she said, ¡°Blackout, Whiteout, you focus on the feral.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t sound good.

    Then, suddenly, everything went black. A complete absence of light. She could see nothing. The only thing she heard was herself. Wait, are those my organs? There was absolutely no other sound. She moved forward, immediately bumping into something. It had no texture, perfectly smooth and spherical. Her shoved in wings and tail pushed out with no success. I hate tight spaces. I¡¯m going to go insane if I can¡¯t get out of here.

    She braced herself and rammed her shoulder into the offending wall. Nothing. It was getting hotter, her breath getting shorter. And louder. What¡¯s going on out there? She hit it again, putting all of her desperate strength behind it. Nothing. A third time, and it shattered.

    ¡°Breaking through. Shoot it! Shoot it!¡± said the masked man she stumbled into, knocking him on his back. She came upright next to another masked man on her right in the process of pointing a pistol at her.

    She dodged to her left. Suddenly she was encased in the blackness again, no light or sound. She froze, her tail was extended somewhat, it hadn¡¯t been shoved inward like it had before. Three rounds suddenly struck her in the gut. She screamed, partially out of surprise, partially out of pain. She hadn¡¯t heard anything coming. These guys really want to kill me. Ow, that hurt. Just leave us alone.

    She hunched over and rushed forward again, towards the last place she¡¯d seen the man. Light and sound returned with a couple steps. Blackout was dressed identically to the rest of the Watch, the masks, or lack thereof, being the only difference between the individual members Olivia could spot. Narrowed eyes stared at her through the holes of a pure black featureless mask covering his entire face. Instead of enveloping her, the next black bubble covered up the man, leaving her charging at nothing.

    She heard the man she¡¯d knocked down start to get up behind her, well within range of her tail. She whipped it towards him. Her tail met something smooth and unyielding. She snarled in frustration, then spun and lunged at who she presumed to be Whiteout. He looked the same as Blackout, only with a pure white mask.

    Blackout managed one stray shot at Olivia¡¯s back, striking her shoulder and shoving her forward. Two separate black bubbles engulfed her, but she ignored them, as well as a white orb meant to trip up her charge while her vision was blocked. A few long strides brought her right up to Whiteout, and she brought down her open hand to slash, when a white orb appeared between her hand and Whiteout.

    She hissed in frustration as her claws scraped against the bubble without finding purchase and everything went black again. Her wings, half outstretched as she fought, pushed against her back as a solid bubble engulfed her. Leave us alone! She broke through with far more ease than before, and was again greeted with pistol fire, though this time she barely felt it.

    Black and white bubbles met her every time she tried to advance, but the two kept moving, keeping her from ever seeing more than one at a time. She roared as she slapped aside a bubble that she nearly ran her nose into.

    A familiar voice shouted out over the shouting and gunfire. ¡°Olivia! Stop!¡±

    Olivia froze, out in the middle of the street. Who? What? Behind her, Chris and Amanda had taken cover behind the engine block of the jeep and fired over it. Where is Ben? The other Watch members fanned out behind their own cars, three working their way around the flank opposite Olivia. Both groups took potshots at each other, more keeping each other pinned than filling the air with lead. There were sirens in the air, and Olivia heard the sounds of an approaching helicopter.

    A woman in a dark blue mask with one eye hole and three diagonal orange stripes across it launched an orange laser from her hand at Chris. The air shimmered around the beam, and the car melted where the laser made contact. Blackout and Whiteout bubbled her once more.

    Right. Leave them, help friends. With two slams she broke out, running to the others. She bulled through the bubbles meant to trip her up. A few bullets hit her partially outstretched wings, bouncing off the skin instead of anything substantial.

    Blackout yelled, ¡°Ryan, she¡¯s running!¡±

    A mask-less guy, the closest of the Watch shooting at the others, turned and withdrew something from one of his many pockets. Before Olivia reached the overturned jeep, he clicked a button on the side of a small grey box. A piercing whine, impossibly high pitched, brought Olivia skidding to her knees. Her screams couldn¡¯t drown out the noise of a gunshot, drawn out forever.

    She managed to look up at Ryan as she pressed her palms to her ears, scales digging into skin. He called out to the others, ¡°Got her! It worked.¡± He walked out from behind the truck, getting the box closer towards her. Pain scrambled all thought.

    Blackout and Whiteout both relaxed as they flanked Olivia, other members of the Watch keeping Chris or Amanda from reaching her with gunfire. None else seemed to even hear the noise. ¡°Fuck, we should have started with that.¡±

    Ben teleported up to Ryan, grabbing the box with one hand over Ryan¡¯s and stabbing a knife into his wrist with the other. Ryan cried out and dropped the box, but had enough presence of mind to pull back as Ben ripped out the knife. The next slash went wide, nicking Ryan¡¯s skull instead of his throat.

    The box had fallen to the ground, Olivia could see it through her tears. Ryan managed to free his bloody hand from Ben, who gave him a hard kick to the groin for his efforts. Ryan went down with a strangled cry, and Ben took the opportunity to stomp on the fallen box. Just like that, the noise stopped. Several members of the Watch turned, and a laser lanced out at Ben. He ducked and teleported over to Olivia.

    Ben yelled out, ¡°Gotta get outta here, now.¡± The sirens were much louder, and the helicopters were almost upon them. He helped Olivia haul herself to her feet. Liquid Chris covered Amanda as they began to sprint away from the wreck of the jeep. Olivia felt a few more bullets hit her wings and back as she lumbered after Ben, ears still echoing with the box¡¯s shriek.

    ***

    Olivia landed ahead of Chris, the next fastest of the group. Flight had spared her a night of running and hiding across miles of city. Ben and Amanda leaned on each other as they rounded the corner of the building, too exhausted to snipe at each other. Without a word, they crawled back into their shop.

    It¡¯s OK. We¡¯re OK. We¡¯re safe and OK. Olivia collapsed on her mattress, feet, tail, and wings hanging off the edges. Her back ached after constant flying back and forth to scout. A couple dive bombs kept the Watch from following too closely until they could lose them entirely, along with their injured members. No one followed. I made sure. We¡¯re OK.

    ¡°Was that at least worth it?¡± asked Ben after they caught their breath, peeling off his sweat soaked hoodie to reveal an even more sweat soaked tank top.

    Amanda took a moment to rouse herself from her customary chair. She set her helmet down on the desk and replied, ¡°It looked like it. Whoever¡¯s office that was, they were pretty high up in the food chain.¡±

    ¡°Says you,¡± he grumbled under his breath. ¡°I miss my car.¡±

    ¡°Gonna fix this,¡± murmured Chris under his breath, so low Olivia second guessed that she¡¯d even heard it. Out loud, in a far more forceful tone, he said to the group at large, ¡°I know all of us had our doubts today, but that was damn fine work we did. It came close, but we got what we needed and out in one piece.¡± Oh! If he says it was good, then that must be what good looks like. ¡°Amanda, do you think we can start sifting through what we got?¡±

    She gave him a curious look before replying, ¡°Right now?¡± We just spent hours just running. Olivia took a deep breath, getting ready to haul herself up. I¡¯m not sure what I can help with, but I guess she¡¯ll need it.

    ¡°Time isn¡¯t our friend.¡±

    ¡°No. Not right now. We¡¯re too exhausted, it will be a waste of time.¡±

    Chris considered for a moment, then gave a curt nod. ¡°Alright. Good point. We can pick this up once we¡¯ve recovered.¡±Olivia slumped back down on her bed. OK. Good idea.

 22: Patchwork

    Chapter 22: Patchwork

    Chris grunted as he slow-walked over to the overstuffed mini fridge they kept in one of the front offices. His stiff legs burned, even a full day after their desperate, cross city run. Silence reigned over the shop, even with all four of them technically up and moving. I shouldn¡¯t have pushed Amanda last night, he thought to himself as he grabbed a pop. We¡¯re still in no shape to do much of anything. Even if we find something in all that paperwork and info we got, there¡¯s not much we¡¯ll be able to do with it in this state. I¡¯ve got to make this right, though.

    ¡°Hey! Blondie, pass me one?¡± Chris fought back the urge to jump at the sudden sound of Ben¡¯s voice. He looked over his shoulder just in time to spot Ben slouch against the door frame.

    ¡°Here,¡± said Chris, handing him a second can and keeping the surprise from his voice. The last few cans in the near empty fridge clattered as the door closed. If he doesn¡¯t get a rise out of me, he¡¯ll get bored and stop. ¡°Blondie? Is that going to be my nickname?¡± he asked, tone even.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re blond. Easier to say,¡± answered Ben, a wide grin splitting his face. He cracked the top of the can, shying back a little as a bit of spray came out.

    ¡°Chris is one syllable.¡±

    ¡°You know what I mean.¡±

    Chris folded his arms, setting his half finished drink on top of the fridge. Though garbled, he finally caught wind of a Baltimore accent in Ben¡¯s rapid speech. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that I do. Besides, it¡¯s too obvious for a nickname.¡±

    ¡°What? It¡¯s quick, gets to the point. You knew exactly who I was talkin¡¯ about.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the only other person in this room. Come on, get clever with it at least.¡± Maybe he¡¯ll be less annoying if he has something to chew on.

    ¡°Clever? Come on now, everythin¡¯ about you is blond. Tall midwestern lookin¡¯ white guy with blue eyes? I¡¯d be shocked if you weren''t blonde. Even your scruffy-ass beard is blond.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know,¡± replied Chris, scratching at his cheek. ¡°We don¡¯t have any razors here.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, I forgot about that. I never really need that shit. I just get a little pedo ¡®stache after a month.¡± Chris winced in sympathy. ¡°I always wanted to grow one of those long bushy beards that go down your chest when I was a kid, you know?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Chris. Those things look like nightmares to keep clean.

    ¡°Cuz it¡¯d be funny.¡±

    Whatever you say, dude. Chris resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ¡°We are starting to run low on everything, again. Do you think you can make another supply run?¡±

    Ben chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t got a car at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Walk. I¡¯ll join and help you carry, if you want to risk someone recognizing me.¡±

    Ben teleported over to the fridge, checking inside. ¡°Fair enough, might take you up on that. Fuck, ¡®liv¡¯ eats a lot. Wanna check in on the chicks, see if they can think of anythin¡¯ to pick up? Shit, think they need razors? Chicks shave their legs, right?¡±

    Chris paused, considering him. You¡¯ve never mentioned a girlfriend, have you? ¡°You¡¯re welcome to ask them.¡±

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯m bored.¡± Ben pushed off the wall and teleported out.

    Chris followed after him to the main shop. For all his confident talk, Ben walked with legs just as stiff as Chris'', relying far more on teleports than usual. Olivia poked her head around one of the makeshift walls they¡¯d set up around their beds, in truth little more than a curtain held up with a metal rod they¡¯d found and balanced between two stacks of boxes. Amanda hunched over what appeared to be half of an old, brick shaped flip phone, her workbenches now lining the wall directly next to the door. A giant magnifying glass clamped to the bench lit up the phone¡¯s innards as she poked at something with a gloved finger.

    ¡°Hey, runnin¡¯ down to the store. Need anythin¡¯?¡± Ben announced to the two of them.

    ¡°You¡¯re going out? Are we sure no one tracked us to this area? The Watch? Sanchez?¡± asked Amanda, looking up from her workbench.

    ¡°Olivia was up in the air the whole time back. If she couldn¡¯t see or hear them, they weren¡¯t there,¡± replied Chris. Olivia walked up to stand beside Ben, which translated to looming over him.

    ¡°Fuck that¡¯s helpful. I wanna fly,¡± said Ben, elbowing Olivia in the hip with a grin. Forgot all about those razors, didn''t you?

    ¡°It¡¯s fun,¡± she replied, cracking a small smile.

    ¡°So we¡¯re using her as a spy drone now too, great,¡± muttered Amanda. She moved aside her magnifying glass and spun her chair, facing the rest of the group.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Olivia asked her, head tilting to the side by an inch.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, I feel bad,¡± said Amanda with a shrug. You had a problem? Why didn¡¯t you speak up?

    ¡°Why?¡± asked Olivia, beating Chris to the punch.

    ¡°We¡¯re using you as a wrecking ball! You walked through a wall and mauled five armed men last night. What we just walked into would have been suicide if you hadn¡¯t just bulldozed everything we pointed you at.¡± It wasn¡¯t that bad. We pulled through.

    ¡°I was just trying to help,¡± murmured Olivia.

    ¡°The whole wall thing was kinda crazy. I loved it!¡± said Ben with a grin.

    ¡°It¡¯s kind of scary, watching you go from you to a predator,¡± said Amanda, ignoring him. ¡°I¡¯m a little worried for you when you do that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that scary,¡± whispered Olivia, more to herself than the others. ¡°They¡¯re way scarier.¡±

    ¡°Remember Michael?¡± explained Amanda. ¡°You were making this low rumbling in your chest, I thought it was an engine outside somewhere.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a twenty foot wingspan too, you pretty much filled the room by yourself,¡± Chris pointed out. She''s not coming out of nowhere with this.

    ¡°You were starin¡¯ at the bastard like you wanted to kill ¡®em,¡± added Ben with a laugh. Olivia shrank back as each of them spoke, her posture seeming to collapse in on herself.

    ¡°Speaking of which, what was up with that?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°What did he ever do to you?¡±

    Olivia remained silent for a moment. Chris kicked Ben in the shin as he grinned and took in a breath. Let her think. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Before Chris could offer a suggestion, she continued, ¡°I sort of recognized him. His smell. Like he was a danger before.¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Smell?¡± asked Amanda, a concerned frown on her face as she gazed up at Olivia.

    ¡°I know, I¡¯m weird,¡± Olivia mumbled in response, head hanging. I didn¡¯t know her nose was that sensitive. She said her hearing was good, too.

    ¡°Wait, what the hell? Come down here,¡± said Amanda, standing to meet Olivia halfway and motioning her down. Olivia hesitated for a moment before she figured out what she was asking. Amanda parted some of her brown hair. ¡°Olivia, your hair is all matted. When¡¯s the last time you cleaned this?¡±

    ¡°Um, I don¡¯t know,¡± Olivia replied. Her eyes remained glued to the floor, even as Amanda released her hair and she stood upright once more.

    ¡°Does that mean never?¡±

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Olivia mumbled after a moment. ¡°I did when I was in that cell.¡± Chris kept quiet, hair care being beyond his ken.

    ¡°What exactly did you do?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°I just bent down and let water run over it,¡± mumbled Olivia. Her wings rustled, pulling in tight behind her back.

    ¡°Wait, bent down?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± broke in Chris. ¡°Half the showerheads I come across come up to my face. It''s a pain in the ass.¡± He eyed Olivia for a moment. ¡°And she¡¯s got about six or seven inches on me.¡± Though it¡¯s kind of hard to tell when she¡¯s hunching over.

    Amanda returned her attention to Olivia and exclaimed, ¡°Your hair can¡¯t be comfortable like that.¡±

    Olivia shrugged. ¡°I guess not.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡± demanded Amanda.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to get in the way or anything.¡±

    ¡°Who cares?¡± cut in Ben. ¡°Just hair.¡± Why is everyone talking about hair today? This is the second conversation about it.

    ¡°There is something to be said for putting at least a little bit of care into your appearance,¡± replied Amanda, shooting him a look of scorn.

    Ben leaned in and grinned. ¡°What happened to don¡¯t judge a book by its cover?¡± Chris frowned in thought. Ben had a sort of ruthless intelligence, selectively applied. Is he fucking with us intentionally to amuse himself, or is he just not bothering to think and genuinely asking?

    ¡°That¡¯s for little children, not grown ass adults,¡± replied Chris.

    ¡°Y¡¯all turn your noses up at me, were damn close to throwin¡¯ ¡®liv¡¯ in a concrete coffin. Seems like grown ass adults ain¡¯t on the right track here.¡±

    Chris looked Ben dead in the eye and said, ¡°It took us about two minutes to decide to make contact with Olivia instead of going in guns blazing. And when have I ever turned my nose up at you?¡± Ben pointed to Amanda without breaking eye contact. ¡°Granted, but I am not her.¡±

    Ben nudged Olivia again. ¡°You should argue more. Ain¡¯t had this much fun since me an¡¯ my brothers split.¡± She just looked confused.

    ¡°Brothers?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Yeah, triplets.¡±

    ¡°Oh god there¡¯s three of you,¡± said Amanda with dawning horror as Ben cackled in amusement. ¡°Your poor mother.¡±

    Let¡¯s get back on track. ¡°So, Amanda,¡± said Chris, raising his voice to be heard over the cross talk. Everyone snapped to attention as his voice echoed through the shop. ¡°Can you think of anything Ben can pick up from the store?¡±

    Amanda snapped her ringers at Olivia. ¡°Right. You, bathroom, I¡¯ll get you cleaned up. You,¡± she said, snapping her fingers at Ben. ¡°Grab a hairbrush while you¡¯re out. And some deodorant. And a toothbrush.¡±

    ¡°Already grabbed a toothbrush for her,¡± said Chris in a normal voice.

    Amanda considered Olivia for a moment. ¡°Have you been using it?¡± she asked her.

    ¡°I think so?¡±

    Amanda simply grunted in response, leading a befuddled Olivia out of the shops and to the bathrooms. Alright, I guess that¡¯s taken care of.

    ¡°Need a hand?¡± Chris asked Ben.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll suck it up. Keep outta sight.¡± Ben grabbed a jacket and teleported out, leaving Chris alone in a cavernous empty shop. I wonder if I can install a shower in here. We¡¯re not using half this space.

    ***

    An hour later, Olivia walked back into the shop. Chris looked up from the website of a local hardware store and gave her a nod as he leaned back in his chair. What am I doing? This is never going to happen. I¡¯m either getting back to normal with Alice or dying. He put away his phone as clawed feet approached.

    Olivia handed him his forgotten and half finished pop, damp hair now somewhat organized and tied into a ponytail with a rubber band. She gnawed on what appeared to be the last of their beef jerky.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± he said, taking a polite sip of now lukewarm soda and placing it on the table. ¡°Feeling better?¡± he asked, gesturing to her hair.

    ¡°It¡¯s not getting into my face anymore!¡± she said with a smile. ¡°I didn¡¯t think about it before. It¡¯s so nice.¡±

    How old are you? Is that a question I¡¯m not supposed to ask? ¡°Good to hear.¡± Amanda entered, hands damp and disgruntled look on her face unchanged. I should probably deal with that at some point. Angry teammates are a time bomb waiting to happen. She marched over to her workbench, drying off her hands with a paper towel. Later. Techies hate being interrupted too much.

    ¡°Are you OK?¡± asked Olivia, breaking his train of thought.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m fine. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°You seem worried.¡±

    ¡°I guess I am. I don¡¯t want to mess this up. My girlfriend, Alice, she¡¯s not really happy about all this. She sounded really mad, actually, when I talked with her yesterday. Sorry, I¡¯m rambling.¡±

    ¡°Why are you apologizing?¡±

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have to worry about me.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± He glanced to the side at her, seeing nothing but an earnest question.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m supposed to be dependable.¡± He stared off into space, as if he would be judged for the admission. ¡°She was nervous about me being a cop, you know? She made her peace with it because I¡¯m not the kind of guy to go off and do something stupid and impulsive, like exactly what we¡¯re doing now. It¡¯s almost like I¡¯m betraying that trust, you know?¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re trying to make it right. Right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s that. We¡¯ll see.¡± He took a deep breath, feeling a weight off of his shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re speaking up more,¡± he said, changing the topic.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she replied. Now it was her turn to avoid eye contact, reptilian eyes lost in the distance. ¡°That other feral, he couldn''t talk.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the mantis one?¡± He¡¯d caught a quick glimpse of it as they¡¯d fled the Arena; a car sized feral covered in insect chitin plates.

    ¡°Yeah. He couldn¡¯t talk, I don¡¯t think. And with what you guys said earlier, I don¡¯t want to be like him. I don¡¯t want to be a dumb thing sitting in a corner.¡±

    Ben burst in through the back door, plastic bags rustling as he angled them through. ¡°Hey, party people!¡± he called out into the shop. Goodbye, peace and quiet. It was nice having you for almost a full hour. Chris gave Olivia a reassuring pat on the elbow as he got up from his chair to help Ben.

    They unpacked and gathered around Amanda¡¯s desk, fresh food and activity breaking them out of their tired haze. Chris spread out the papers they¡¯d stolen from the office in the Arena as Amanda set up three different sized spare monitors to display files and pictures. The three of them read through their own pile of documents, occasionally looking over each other¡¯s shoulder for clarification or comparison. Olivia looked over shoulders, asking the occasional clarifying question but otherwise keeping out of the way.

    ¡°Hold up, hold up,¡± said Ben, smile gone for once. ¡°I recognize that address.¡± He pointed to what appeared to be the picture of a medical record.

    ¡°What about it?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Been there. Kid was taken, tryin¡¯ to track him down with ¡®liv¡¯.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Gone.¡±

    Chris squinted at the paper. ¡°I¡¯m no expert, but it looks like something to do with magic? Magical aptitude?¡±

    ¡°Kid was a mage?¡± said Ben.

    ¡°It looks like they just figured it out,¡± replied Chris, eyeing the date in the bottom right corner, in horrible doctor scribble.

    ¡°Sanchez had him grabbed, passed him off to Overlord."

    ¡°He¡¯s branched into human trafficking now? That¡¯s new,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°Wait, we¡¯re fucking with Overlord?¡± demanded Amanda, face pale.

    ¡°Yeah. Oh shit, never did compare notes, did we? Yeah, me an¡¯ ¡®liv¡¯ found some Overlord guns for Sanchez. This checks out. Might¡¯ve been payment, now that I think about it. Money¡¯s easier to track than guns you keep hidden anyways.¡±

    ¡°Why not both?¡±

    Ben shrugged. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°OK, so Overlord is using Sanchez to acquire people, mages by the look of it,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t do that himself?¡± asked Ben.

    Chris looked at Amanda. You¡¯re the techie. Overlord is your wheelhouse. She shook her head vigorously. ¡°No idea. Techies don¡¯t research Overlord himself unless they want a visit from him or a government black ops team. I¡¯ll take a look at gear, but I''m staying as far away from him as possible.¡±

    ¡°Mages don¡¯t exactly grow on trees. Magic frustrates almost any scientific explanation,¡± said Chris. Amanda nodded in agreement. ¡°We can sit here and guess about Overlord¡¯s motivations all day long, but that will get us nowhere. Let¡¯s keep that in the back of our mind, but Sanchez is our current target. Who built that place we raided?¡±

    Ben nodded and grinned in agreement. ¡°You don¡¯t build a giant fuck off cave like that with shovels.¡±

    ¡°Overlord?¡± asked Olivia. That¡¯s a good point.

    Amanda shrugged. ¡°Maybe. He keeps a low profile, and he certainly has the resources and technical know-how to pull off something like that. Would he go through all that effort for Sanchez though?¡± Ben shook his head.

    ¡°Not what I meant. We¡¯re focusing too much on the shady part. Who made the building topside?¡± asked Chris. ¡°A legitimate business needs legitimate paperwork.¡±

    Amanda frowned as she sifted through the files. ¡°Here we go. This is an invoice from Lehman Construction. There¡¯s a few more. And an engineering report. Yeah, these guys are all over it. Blood drained from Chris¡¯s face. That name is familiar. ¡°Weren¡¯t they doing the renovations at MHU headquarters?¡± he asked. ¡°The ones that are late and over budget?¡±

 23: Momentum

    Chapter 23: Momentum

    Olivia flexed her wings after nearly two days cooped up inside after their attack on the Arena. The ache in her back muscles vanished after a few hours, but the others spent an entire day recovering from two back to back fights and a run across a city. They at least managed to get a few more leads on Sanchez, not that Olivia could have helped much. She let out a yawn. Since the fight with the Watch, her ears picked up a faint sourceless ringing. Without the weight of exhaustion, it kept her from getting a full night sleep as it oscillated between ignorable and obnoxious. It forced her awake early, before everyone save Amanda, and she wandered up to the roof to get some space.

    The rising sun rose over the plains city to the east, bringing it to life. Garish neon lights from about three quarters of the skyscrapers faded in the golden light, though never vanished. Why are a bunch of them always dark? They look abandoned. Why build them if they¡¯re not used? The day promised to be a clear one, with only a bare handful of clouds in the sky on the horizon, far to the north. I wish I could fly during the day more. I bet I could see forever when the sun is up.

    With a sigh, she prepared to rise from her seat on an inert AC unit and head towards the back door to their shop. People still used one of the units at the far end of the building, there would be no mistaking her wings if they looked her way. Apparently I look even scarier than I thought. I didn¡¯t know I looked and sounded like a roaring monster. I should have known. At least I look a little better now. She ran a claw through her now clean hair, making sure the loose ponytail over her shoulder stayed at least somewhat straight.

    Why do I like it? It¡¯s like why I¡¯m saying sorry. Why? It looks better, but that¡¯s not it. Not all of it. I barely look at myself. It feels better. It¡¯s not getting in my face and doesn¡¯t feel like a shell of crap. Maybe it is looks. I look less scary. Less wild. But why do I like looking less scary? Because then I don¡¯t scare people. Why is that good? Like Chris said, scary things look like they might hurt people. I don¡¯t want people to think I¡¯m going to hurt them.

    Why why why? Olivia spread her wings and dove off the edge of the roof, gliding to the ground a few stories beneath her. Her clawed feet dug into the old, crumbling asphalt of the strip of pavement behind their building. Old piles of trash, some covered in tarps or broken furniture, clustered around long abandoned dumpsters. The smell, thankfully, had long rotted away to a mere annoying undercurrent.

    Amanda twisted around in her chair at the sound of Olivia opening the steel door. ¡°Olivia, can you come here for a minute?¡± she called out from her workbench.

    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Olivia, once she reached her.

    ¡°I have a phone for you,¡± said Amanda, passing the phone to Olivia. Though small in Olivia¡¯s hand, the hard plastic brick seemed solid enough.

    ¡°Am I supposed to call someone?¡± That¡¯s what Chris did with his, right? This isn¡¯t that phone though.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s yours to keep. Give it a try,¡± said Amanda.

    She spotted a hinge at the top and flipped open the phone. The screen flickered to life and read ¡°Yes or No¡±.

    Nothing more appeared. But what¡¯s the question? There¡¯s no question. Maybe I¡¯m just missing something. She considered the tiny buttons on the lower half of the phone, hovering a sharp claw tip over a button. I don''t want to break it. She curled her finger and maneuvered the outer tip of her hooked claw to the button and pressed ¡°Yes¡±.

    ¡°Error¡±.

    ¡°Yes or No¡± reappeared.

    She pressed ¡°No¡±.

    ¡°Error¡±. But... but... what?

    ¡°Need some help?¡± asked Amanda, catching on to her confusion.

    ¡°Um.¡± Olivia showed her the screen. ¡°I don¡¯t think it works.¡±

    Amanda repeated the same song and dance as Olivia. ¡°Damn it. That shouldn¡¯t happen. It worked before. Let me fix this.¡± Amanda took the cellphone back and plugged it into a computer.

    Olivia watched over her shoulder as Amanda flew through several different windows on her computer. Lines of either text or code, she had no idea which was which, scrolled by. I hope all this makes sense to you. Amanda grumbled under her breath. After a few minutes, and checking one box that had been unchecked, Amanda tried the phone again.

    ¡°There we go. Try it again.¡±

    Olivia flipped open her new phone once more and found a pleasant blue on the screen, with several icons she didn¡¯t recognize. ¡°Cool. Now what?¡± I don¡¯t know any numbers I can call.

    ¡°So here you can check the weather for the next week; daily highs and lows, chance of precipitation, et cetera,¡± said Amanda as Olivia sat on the edge of a cot, tail curled to the other side. She pressed a few more buttons. ¡°You can set an alarm here, change the time, and use it as a stopwatch. This is the default browser, an internet assessor thingy. If you feel like getting another one from the app store, they should be compatible.¡±

    Listening to her makes the ringing go away. That¡¯s weird.

    Amanda flipped the phone closed and passed it to Olivia. ¡°Those are the basics. Oh.¡± She spun in her chair, grabbing a cord from her desk and spinning around to face Olivia again. ¡°Here¡¯s the charger. Kind of important.¡±

    Olivia took both. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°No problem. Ask me if you have any questions. And you might want to go through the settings and change it how you like.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± Cool. I thought you just called people with phones. Olivia slipped it into her pocket for later. Wait. ¡°Is this what you¡¯ve been working on all last night?¡±

    ¡°Mostly. What did you do last night?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I couldn¡¯t fly, so I just walked around on the roof for a little bit, and read a book.¡± I may or may not have been looking for something to do. Though there was this one guy I saw across the street¡­ maybe? It was kind of hard to tell.

    Amanda smiled. ¡°Oh? Which one?¡±

    ¡°Ben gave me a Calvin and Hobbes book yesterday. He said it was his favorite.¡±

    ¡°A comic book? Ben has a favorite book?¡±

    Olivia shrugged. ¡°I liked it. The book, I mean. I got the humor, so that was a plus.¡±

    Amanda¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°If you want, I could probably put an audio book reader on your phone, too. There¡¯s actually a neat little trick I use to boost the memory of a computer. For your specific phone it¡¯s all on the sim chip.¡± You lost me there. Sim chip? Amanda picked up on her confusion. ¡°Hold on, can I see your phone again?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Sure.¡± She passed it to Amanda, who flipped it over and opened a panel in the back. She pulled a small white chip out.

    ¡°Sim chip. The rest of your phone itself is dumb. This is the brain of it, so to speak. I take the company¡¯s phone, yours is an old CTC phone, and put it through the wringer. It can store more than the average phone, basically. It¡¯s a conglomerate of a smartphone and a dumb phone, so you might have some compatibility issues with some apps, but audio should be good. This is just your phone, not all are the same.¡± Amanda began putting it back together.

    ¡°OK. Um, one more question,¡± said Olivia. It¡¯s probably dumb, but I¡¯ll just have to get over that.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± said Amanda, returning to Olivia.

    ¡°CTC?¡±

    ¡°The Congo Telecommunication Company. They have a different name in Africa, but translated here in the states it¡¯s just the CTC. Had a big patent war with Apple a couple years ago over rounded edged phones or something stupid like that. Stuff like that is why I¡¯m not working in industry right now.¡± Olivia heard Ben waking up from behind his curtained off room, clothes rustling as he got dressed.

    ¡°So do I owe you anything for it?¡± I really don¡¯t like just taking stuff from other people. I did that enough before. I mean, she¡¯s not a homeless shelter, but it¡¯s the principle of the matter.

    Amanda sighed, closing her eyes. Sorry. Before Olivia could say anything, Amanda said, ¡°If it will make you feel better, let¡¯s call it twenty bucks, whenever you can.¡±

    ¡°OK!¡± I think I can do that.

    At that moment Ben walked out from his curtained ad hoc room. He blinked the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes and said, ¡°Hey.¡±

    ¡°Good morning,¡± said Olivia. Amanda studiously ignored him. He joined them anyway, bare feet padding across the oil stained concrete floor.

    ¡°Got a phone now?¡± he asked Olivia, motioning to the one in her hand.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered, showing him.

    ¡°Is that an old Iroko phone? Haven¡¯t seen one of those in a while.¡± Iroko? Where did that come from? ¡°Flip it over,¡± he said, making a flipping motion with his hand. ¡°It¡¯ll say on the back, for any phone, really.¡±

    She did so. ¡°Um, yes, it says Iroko. What does Iroko mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a kind of African tree, I think,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Yeah. Their namin¡¯ theme is trees. Never figured out why, not like they¡¯re tree huggers or anythin¡¯,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Hey, the military names their helicopters after Native American tribes, and they haven¡¯t exactly been the crusaders for Native American rights in the past. Or present,¡± pointed out Amanda.

    Ben shrugged. ¡°True. Still though, I like my iPhone.¡± I keep hearing these iNouns everywhere.

    ¡°What? Why? Apple is Nazis,¡± asked Amanda with disgust.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a bit of a harsh comparison,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Hyperbole. It¡¯s the best thing ever,¡± deadpanned Amanda. Ben started laughing.

    Um, what? Wait, I should speak up. ¡°Hyperbole?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Another word for exaggeration,¡± explained Amanda.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Ben. ¡°You know what Apple is?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a big technology company, I think. Right?¡± said Olivia. I can figure stuff out. Sometimes.

    ¡°But you don¡¯t remember words like hyperbole?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just forgot random stuff, I guess. Not everything. Just a lot. And I didn¡¯t know what Apple was before. I can read stuff on my own, you know.¡± Amanda just leaves her computer playing TV for noise.

    Movement caught their attention. Chris paused as everyone turned to him as he exited his curtain room. ¡°Good morning, everyone.¡± Olivia smiled and waved in response.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°We¡¯re bored, entertain us,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Well you¡¯re shit out of luck, I need my coffee.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re out,¡± called out Amanda as he headed for their kitchen in an empty office.

    ¡°Already?¡± Chris grumbled. He abandoned his quest for coffee and instead lowered himself into a chair beside Amanda, scratching at his neck. ¡°I miss anything else? Have you three elected to form a hippie commune?¡±

    Ben snorted. ¡°Nah, always hated tie dye. Catchin¡¯ Olivia up on modern technology.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Do we have any plans for today? I¡¯ve got the feeling we¡¯re getting close to Sanchez.¡±

    ¡°So I don¡¯t got a car. I¡¯m guessin¡¯ you two had yours taken by the MHU. That¡¯s gonna make our lives really fuckin¡¯ hard.¡±

    ¡°I can still move kind of fast,¡± spoke out Olivia.

    ¡°What about the rest of us?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Oh, I mean, for some stuff, I guess. Never mind.¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re right," said Chris with a quick nod. "But we can¡¯t just have you run around and do everything for us.¡±

    ¡°Could steal one,¡± suggested Ben.

    The others, Olivia included, grimaced. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I like the idea of that.¡±

    Ben shrugged. ¡°We sit still, we die.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we could just buy another one,¡± mused Chris.

    ¡°There¡¯s only fifteen grand on that card I gave Ben,¡± said Amanda. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how we¡¯d even do that without drawing red flags.¡± Silence reigned for a moment, as Ben and Chris turned in unison to stare at her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Fifteen grand?¡± repeated Chris. Oh, is that a lot? It sounds like a lot. How much does a car cost?

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Amanda, eyes flickering between the two.

    ¡°I could get like ten crap used cars for that much!¡± explained Ben. ¡°I¡¯ve been carryin¡¯ a year¡¯s worth of rent in my pocket? You serious?¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Fuck yeah. Hell, could pay in cash if we wanted to. What the hell was your first car?¡±

    ¡°Nothing special, but it was more than fifteen thousand.¡±

    ¡°Fifteen thousand can¡¯t buy a car? You ever been used car shoppin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± admitted Amanda. ¡°Why is this such a big deal?¡±

    ¡°You handed a guy who you don¡¯t like or trust fifteen thousand dollars like it¡¯s nothing, and only seem to be just now realizing how much that was,¡± explained Chris.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been eatin¡¯ little oatmeal packets,¡± grumbled Ben, shaking his head. Despite his annoyed tone, his amused smile never wavered. ¡°I coulda grabbed a grill an¡¯ some steaks, god dammit!¡±

    ¡°Enough, Ben,¡± cut in Chris, his voice more restrained and level than Olivia had ever heard before. ¡°Amanda, this would have been good to know before.¡±

    ¡°I thought you were being frugal,¡± snapped Amanda.

    ¡°Cuz I gotta be!¡± replied Ben.

    ¡°How much money do you have available at the moment?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Why?¡± she replied.

    Chris took a deep breath before explaining, ¡°I¡¯m trying to figure out how much money we have access to.¡±

    ¡°We?¡± Amanda leaned back, face closing off, quashing all emotion. ¡°I¡¯m not sure you all need to know my entire financial situation.¡±

    ¡°Fine," said Chris, raising a placating hand. "How much are you willing to part with?¡±

    ¡°The card Ben has. The rest I can¡¯t tap into unless it¡¯s an emergency.¡± Before Chris, annoyance crossing his face, could reply, she added, ¡°Real, no shit, ¡®we are going to die right now¡¯ emergency.¡± Olivia tilted her head to the side, eyeing Amanda. Her heart is beating really fast. Why are her face and hands twitching so much?

    ¡°OK, good to know,¡± said Chris. ¡°I think we¡¯re rested enough to start going after Lehman Construction.¡±

    ¡°Um, those people before. The Watch. Are they going to be after us too?¡± asked Olivia. My ears are still ringing from them.

    ¡°Yeah, where the fuck did they come from?¡± added Amanda.

    ¡°The Watch¡¯s got a weird relationship with the cops. They don¡¯t like runnin¡¯ to ¡®em every time somethin¡¯ major happens,¡± explained Ben. ¡°Might have been lookin¡¯ for Sanchez¡¯ men out there, an¡¯ we just stumbled into ¡®em.¡±

    Chris nodded. ¡°Alright, back on track. This place is going to be defended. They¡¯re insane if they can¡¯t see the pattern. But we¡¯re going to have the element of surprise if we do this right.¡± He¡¯s always so focused.

    ¡°Every problem can be solved with the proper application of explosions, might I add,¡± cut in Ben.

    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s super illegal,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°I¡¯m aware,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Alright, for today,¡± said Chris. ¡°No explosions. You get us transportation.¡± Ben gave him a sloppy salute. ¡°I¡¯ll go over what to look for with Olivia. If we can have a pair of eyes in the air, she might be able to see defenses and people that would be hidden from us on the ground.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± said Olivia. If it¡¯ll help. I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m going to be looking at though.

    He turned to Amanda. ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you how to do your job. You¡¯ve delivered every time I¡¯ve asked. Get whatever you can on Lehman Construction.¡±

    ¡°Already started. About that MHU contract they have,¡± she said. ¡°Should we tell the MHU?¡±

    ¡°Who do you trust?¡± After a moment of silence, Chris added, ¡°This isn¡¯t a trick question, I really want to know. I would say Cyrus, but he¡¯s god knows where, not that he wasn¡¯t loopy by the end. Bob?¡±

    ¡°If the main target of the city¡¯s MHU is able to get his front operation business for the MHU, there is something seriously wrong going on. How high up is the rat? If we tell someone who is trustworthy, are they just going to get found out by the rat?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone there to tell.¡±

    Chris gave a grim nod. ¡°I know."

    ¡°The press?¡± asked Amanda.

    Ben barked out a laugh. ¡°Controlled by the government in all but name,¡± replied Chris. ¡°We only have so many man-hours, let¡¯s put a pin in that and focus on what¡¯s in front of us.¡±

    Tasks in hand, the group dispersed.

    ***

    Wind whipped past Olivia¡¯s face as she coasted high above the city. The headquarters for Lehman Construction squatted below her, an older ten story building of steel and glass. The main tower rose above a wider two story ring. She kept high up, out of sight of anyone who might be looking down below. No one ever looks up. It¡¯s night. I should be safe. We talked about this. The Tech Center, a sort of secondary smaller downtown area, stretched on all around her.

    Her head still swam after Chris¡¯ crash course in surveillance. The hours had flashed by, but Olivia felt a little more confident in what to look for.

    ¡°Look for burn pits. They might be burning trash or documents to get rid of evidence.

    Olivia took another pass, lower this time to catch the scent of the air around the building. A vaguely familiar scent of a light, almost sweet oil caught her nose, before concrete powder washed it away. There¡¯s a lot of gas and stuff here. But is there any ash or soot? She circled one more time, keeping an eye to the ground for the dark marks of burn pits on the ground. Nothing.

    ¡°Pay attention to the parking lot. They seem fond of things underground, this won''t be perfect, but this might give us a general idea of activity. Take a note of how many cars you see, where they''re parked, and what types of cars. We don¡¯t care about a fleet of work trucks, this is still a real operating business. But expensive cars? The type that might be rewards, or flashy status symbols? Those we care about.¡±

    Olivia could only spot a small handful of cars scattered around the parking lot at the late hour. None stood out as unusual, though she did see four motorcycles near the employee entrance. That¡¯s a bunch, does that mean anything?

    Well inside the premises, in a fenced off area, a van parked against a wall caught her attention, or rather, what was on top of the van. That looks like those antenna things Amanda put on our roof. Olivia swooped down for a closer look, struggling to make sense of what she saw. There¡¯s extra stuff on them, they look bulkier, but the do look similar. Several crates rested against the back of the van, along with an empty wooden pallet leaned against the front. It doesn¡¯t look like it¡¯s moved in a while. Though hard to make out even for her eyes at that angle, she managed to read ¡®Lock Corp.¡¯ along the side facing the wall.

    ¡°If there are any people, take note of them. Patrolling guards walk slower and more deliberately than workers coming off their shift.¡±

    Olivia marked a few people on the lower roof. She spotted the occasional minuscule glint of cigarette embers, though they never left their positions other than to walk a slow circuit. OK. Not on smoke break. A pair of women, smelling of chemicals when Olivia swooped overhead for a closer look, strolled to their cars. Cleaners? They smell like that stuff Chris uses in the bathroom. Bleach? I think that¡¯s what he said it was. They¡¯re probably fine.

    She circled a few more times, making out several protrusions recognizable as cameras. A few windows were lit, though tinted to keep her from taking a good look in. She saw motion in some of them, and kept a mental note of their location. Two hours passed before she finally decided to call it quits, gleaning no new information from the gang headquarters below her.

    I have time. We¡¯re going to sleep through the day anyways. Her winding route back to the shop took her past her old apartment. The ragged hole where Tod had punched her out still marred its wall. I guess it is still being watched, I swear I saw a guy on the roof for a second. I kind of miss the apartment. That couch was comfy.

    Finally, she pulled up to land just outside the back door to their shop. She angled herself through the metal door frame to find the others standing or sitting around a beat up, crooked old table they¡¯d found somewhere. Olivia could see three different deep gouges on the top, and a set of printed off blueprints only partially concealed a large dark discoloration on the rough surface of the wood.

    ¡°So what are we looking at?¡± asked Chris.

    Olivia relayed all she¡¯d seen, heard, and smelled. Chris nodded, as Amanda split her attention between the conversation and a laptop off to her side. Ben simply drummed his fingers against the table¡¯s edge. ¡°If they¡¯re not burning evidence they might not know we¡¯re coming,¡± pointed out Chris.

    ¡°How?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°We just might not be able to see it.¡±

    ¡°Shredders are a thing.¡± added Ben.

    Chris grimaced and ceded the point with a nod.

    ¡°I think they know we¡¯re coming,¡± said Amanda. ¡°There¡¯s a lot in this building that¡¯s been disconnected. Like, granted, I¡¯m not some magic leet hacker or anything, but I couldn¡¯t ping anything in that building. And the Lock Corp van is a bad sign.¡± Leet?

    ¡°Who?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Lock Corporation is a big merc security company, one of my brothers signed on with them,¡± said Ben, beating Amanda to the punch.

    ¡°Wait, really?¡± she asked, attention snapping fully to Ben without a hint of malice. Is she worried?

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± replied Ben with a laugh. ¡°He¡¯s in some miserable sand pit in the middle east.¡±

    Amanda¡¯s worry did not lessen in the slightest. ¡°I think they know we¡¯re coming. Lock Corp is mostly east of the Mississippi,¡± she explained. The what now? ¡°They only recently started expanding into Westward. They can¡¯t have been set up for that long.¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± began Olivia, waiting to make sure she wouldn¡¯t be talked over. ¡°It looked like the van was there for a while.¡±

    Amanda frowned. ¡°Olivia, did it look like this?¡± She pulled up a picture on her laptop for Olivia to confirm. ¡°That¡¯s definitely sigint equipment. We¡¯re going to have to be very silent when we approach.

    ¡°What? Sigint?¡± asked Olivia. I don¡¯t think sigint is a word. Right?

    ¡°Signals intelligence,¡± replied Amanda. "Think of detecting and listening in on signals."

    ¡°I mean, it kinda makes sense for Lehman to contract a security company for shit they can¡¯t do themselves.¡±

    ¡°Did you see anything else, anyone else, or was it just the van?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Just the van,¡± answered Olivia.

    ¡°OK, that¡¯s better. Lehman might just be leasing equipment, and maybe an operator if that¡¯s the case,¡± said Amanda, relaxing.

    ¡°How much of a problem is this going to be?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Not much of one. They know what they¡¯re doing, but I can skirt around most of their equipment and techniques. Like I said, we¡¯ll need to keep chatter to a minimum around this place. If we use them too much, we¡¯ll give them info on how our comms work and compromise them in the future.¡±

    Chris nodded, satisfied. ¡°What about the company itself? Lehman, not Lock Corp.¡±

    ¡°On paper, Mark Lehman, the son of the owner, is still CEO, but no one has seen him for years, outside of the occasional social event. No clue what¡¯s going on there and I don¡¯t feel like wasting time digging. They have a good reputation, from what I¡¯ve seen. Their workers are a bit more annoyed.¡±

    ¡°How can you tell?¡± asked Ben. ¡°You ain¡¯t left the building.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a new ¡®rate your boss¡¯ website thing online. A lot of employees have complaints about long hours and poor communication. And weird subcontractors.¡±

    ¡°Think we might be able to find a friend on the inside? One with keys?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°We don''t have the time, energy, or expertise to do something like that,¡± pointed out Chris. ¡°Physically, what are we dealing with?¡±

    Amanda tapped the blueprints on the table. ¡°So this is what I¡¯ve got on the building itself. It was supposed to be a children¡¯s hospital, but funding dried up,¡± explained Amanda. Huh? Oh god, that¡¯s terrible. ¡°Lehman Construction took it over. Other than big structural things like load bearing walls, this should be taken with a grain of salt. I¡¯ll be amazed if Sanchez just left blueprints of his own headquarters lying around for anyone to find. He¡¯s proven shockingly competent at adapting physical structures to his own needs and covering his tracks.¡±

    ¡°Shockin¡¯ly?¡± repeated Ben.

    ¡°Mob boss and structural engineer are two completely different jobs.¡±

    Chris sat upright and pointed out, ¡°It¡¯s not just him.¡±

    ¡°True. But he is the shot-caller,¡± explained Amanda. ¡°He makes good calls, and we have to assume he or someone advising him knows their stuff. This is too competent a company to simply be a front.¡±

    ¡°That CEO you mentioned?¡± I hope he¡¯s OK. If he¡¯s not helping the bad guys, that is.

    Amanda shrugged. ¡°Maybe. With this and what Olivia brought us, we can make a rough idea of a plan.¡±

    ¡°Which will turn to shit the moment we meet the enemy,¡± said Ben. Everyone looked at him. ¡°What? Murphy¡¯s Law.¡±

    Amanda rolled her eyes and said, ¡°Anyways, there are three entrances, one of which is fairly out of the way.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t split up like last time, we¡¯ll be overwhelmed,¡± said Chris. We almost were, last time. ¡°Where are the elevators and stairs?¡±

    ***

    Boiling dark thunderclouds over the mountains swallowed the last of the sunset. Looking to the north or south, Olivia could clearly see the sharp line of the spring storm front moving in, where pale blue sky gave way to clouds. It was so nice and sunny yesterday. Can we just go back to that? I know it¡¯s night now, but it¡¯s the principle of the matter.

    Olivia watched for anything unusual at the entrance they¡¯d marked. The others knelt or sat out of sight below the lip of the roof they hid on, preparing themselves and their gear. Just like the night before, she saw only cars streaming away as the work day ended. Their own new car, a beat up old clunker even more cramped than the jeep, lay parked behind a wall in a nearby parking garage. No sirens came their way that she could hear. She could trust her ears again, now that the ringing had fallen off over the day. I guess they¡¯re fine now. She took a deep breath. Don¡¯t mess up.

    ¡°Hey, you all right?¡± asked Ben, making her jump. He slipped on his grinning metal comedy mask.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. Yeah. Kind of,¡± she stammered in reply. Good job me. Way to babble.

    ¡°You look nervous.¡±

    ¡°Is it that obvious? I¡¯m just worried, I guess.¡± Chris and Amanda, scattered around the roof and lost in their own tasks, paid them no attention. Amanda, face unreadable under her helmet, studied a small, rugged laptop she¡¯d produced from her backpack. Chris flipped through some papers he¡¯d brought, lists of names to look for inside.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t fuck up! Easy.¡± Of course.

    ¡°I know. I just don¡¯t want any of us to get hurt.¡±

    He glanced sideways at Olivia. ¡°You gonna be able to do this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Figured I¡¯d ask. We got this.¡± He punched her elbow and returned to organizing his pistol magazines.

    A nervous silent hour passed, then Chris grunted as he stood with his rifle. ¡°Let¡¯s get started.¡± No going back now. Lightning cracked the sky over the mountains, and thunder rumbled across the plains.

 24: Oligarch

    Chapter 24: Oligarch

    ¡°What the fuck are you doing about it?¡±

    ¡°Working on it,¡± growled Sanchez in response.

    ¡°The fuck does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not just sitting here with my thumb up my ass if that¡¯s what you think.¡±

    Miya rested her head against the wall behind her as the bickering continued. After the attack on the Arena, Sanchez ran her ragged healing the wounded. Healing one man like Tod she could do, even injured muscle instead of bone. Instead, Sanchez dropped her in front of half a dozen men with a variety of flesh wounds, both gunshot and claw, and expected her to wave her hands and make it all go away. Bone breaks and fractures she could, granted, though that was the least of the worries for most of them. Healing feral wounds. Maybe I¡¯ll get to be an astronaut next. Why not?

    Sanchez, his wife Jessica Sanchez, Tod, Otto, and Omar circled around the same conference table the Overlord mercenary had brought Miya to her first night. Sanchez stood at the head, knuckles resting on the glass tabletop as he leaned his weight onto the sturdy furniture. The others spread out around it in high backed chairs. Miya skulked off in a corner of the room, keeping out of sight and out of mind.

    ¡°We¡¯re pulling Otto and his family out of their old safehouse. This right here is now the safest place we¡¯ve got,¡± continued Sanchez. ¡°If they hit anywhere else they aren¡¯t going to find shit.¡±

    ¡°What are we looking at?¡± demanded Omar. ¡°This isn¡¯t the cops. We¡¯d have seen them coming a mile away.¡±

    ¡°The feral, the vigilante, and two MHU cops. I think they¡¯re wanted. Otto, you work your magic?¡±

    ¡°Amanda Broussard and Christopher Anderson,¡± replied Otto, spreading out a file on the table in front of them. Despite his own office now a shambles and his main operation broken, he remained the image of calm and dispassionate control. Miya pushed off of the wall and slunk up behind Sanchez, getting a look at the pictures. She saw a pair of smiling employee headshots, as well as a few grainy images from a security camera. Creepy grinning mask, giant girl with wings. Good to know.

    ¡°That¡¯s where those two wound up. What are those bad cops wanted for?¡± asked Sanchez.

    ¡°You think there might be a problem we could help them with if they back off?¡± asked Omar, receiving a curt nod from Sanchez in return.

    ¡°Is this a problem we can throw money at?¡± added Jess with a laugh. Omar shot her a look of disgust.

    ¡°Not that we can tell,¡± replied Otto. ¡°Marcus has stepped up as the new head of the MHU, the Mayor rubber-stamped it yesterday. He seems to think they¡¯re our rats.¡±

    Sanchez burst into laughter. ¡°Alright! Doesn¡¯t help us with our vigilante problem but if the MHU is wasting time barking up the wrong tree that¡¯s no skin off my back. What can they do?¡±

    ¡°According to their MHU files, she¡¯s a techie, good with electronics.¡± Otto motioned to the picture on the left, of a woman with dark, short cut hair and a forced, impatient smile. ¡°He can turn into liquid. He can¡¯t be hurt physically while changed, but they think he¡¯s flammable.¡± Otto tapped the picture of a blocky headed man with blond hair and blue eyes. Cops. Knowing my luck, those two are gonna shoot at Sanchez and murder me instead.

    ¡°Think?¡± asked Tod.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t want to find out the hard way and explode.¡± Fair enough.

    ¡°We can¡¯t buy some crazy fire miracle gas from Noble, can we?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not returning our calls,¡± said Otto with a shake of his head.

    ¡°Of course not,¡± grunted Sanchez. ¡°I might have to give him a chat myself. Oh well, fire isn¡¯t hard to come by. And the techie? What can we use against her?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re taking everything offline until we deal with her one way or the other.¡±

    ¡°You talk with that Lock Corp guy about her?¡± Miya glanced at the back of Sanchez¡¯s shaved head. Lock Corp? What are they doing mixed up in this? Isn¡¯t Overlord the sugar daddy here?

    ¡°Yes, offline was his advice. He was confident he could counter any flavor of electronic warfare she could bring to bear if she was denied easy access online. We should, however, be careful of using any cell phone or radios, we¡¯re not certain if she can decrypt as well as intercept signals.¡± Huh?

    ¡°Against a techie? He¡¯s just a dude,¡± commented Jess.

    ¡°Lock Corp only builds and employs the best, he told me,¡± replied Otto, not bothering to look at her fully. Miya fought back a smile at the slight hint of frustration in his voice. She backed away, out of the potential blast radius if things grew heated, and pretended to study the handful of fluffy clouds drifting over the mountains through the tinted windows.

    Sanchez grunted in agreement. ¡°I trust him. Lock Corp hasn''t let us down yet.¡±

    ¡°Have they?¡± asked Tod. ¡°I could have told you to unplug everything.¡±

    ¡°And then what?¡± asked Omar.

    ¡°Then find and kill her,¡± replied Tod, as if that were obvious.

    ¡°Like how you found the feral?¡± asked Jess. Please don¡¯t do that again. You¡¯ll get fucked up and I¡¯ll get blamed somehow. Miya, you''re the doctor, fix this pile of ground beef.

    Tod¡¯s face flushed deep red. ¡°You wanna say that again,¡± he repeated, half rising out of his chair. ¡°Some of us actually put their necks out for the business.¡±

    Unfazed, Jess replied, ¡°I¡¯m just saying that maybe we try a different tactic instead of the exact same thing.¡±

    Sanchez shot her a look before turning to Tod and saying, ¡°They¡¯re going to come to us.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Tod¡¯s hostile gaze lingered on Jess for a moment before he replied, ¡°That¡¯s not a good place to be.¡± Yeah, agreed, I¡¯m here too.

    ¡°The others are combing the streets, don¡¯t you worry. We¡¯re not sitting still, even here. Once we have them, then we¡¯ll be on the offensive.¡±

    ¡°The Bratva smells blood. Tattoos are crossing streets they shouldn''t be crossing,¡± pointed out Omar. Bratva? The Russian mob? I didn¡¯t know they had a hold in Westward.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell Jaime¡¯s crew to get their asses into gear along your territory. They can do whatever they want on our side. If Galina wants to play, they know to call me.¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t Jaime guarding your house?¡± asked Tod.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± replied Sanchez with a wave of his hand. ¡°Temporary.¡±

    Omar nodded, satisfied. Miya dropped the pretense of not eavesdropping and returned to the table, taking an unoccupied seat far from anyone else. Only Jess bothered to glance in her direction. With the short range on the controller kept Miya near Sanchez at all times, the others grew used to ignoring her presence.

    Sanchez continued to Tod, ¡°Once we get them where we want them we¡¯ll hit them, and you¡¯ll be the tip of that spear. You want another go at that feral?¡±

    ¡°You think you can handle it this time around?¡± asked Omar. Jess barely suppressed a snort behind him.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Tod, neck tensing for a moment. ¡°Me and the guys have got a plan. And guns, didn¡¯t use enough of those last time around. It¡¯s big and scary, but it don¡¯t know how to fight, just attack¡±

    ¡°It flies. How the fuck are we supposed to see it coming?¡± asked Omar. ¡°During the day? Sure, that¡¯s easy. But at night? It ain¡¯t putting out radar signals or whatever it is that Lock Corp guy is doing.¡±

    ¡°Is it?¡±

    ¡°Think they¡¯re controlling it?¡± asked Jess, motioning to Miya.

    Miya looked up as the conversation ground to a halt, all eyes on her. She scratched at a surgical scar, now healed, at the base of her skull beneath her stubble. One day I¡¯ll have a full head of hair again. Stubble is so ugly, everyone keeps staring at it.

    ¡°I was under the knife for months,¡± Miya replied. ¡°And I get the feeling Overlord thought I was a failed experiment. It¡¯s also magic control, not mind control. I was immaterial. If Overlord can¡¯t get that right, I don¡¯t see how a couple random people can.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a no.¡±

    ¡°Do we know how to get those bits out of me yet?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Later,¡± said Sanchez with a wave of his hand. Miya bit back a retort, flopping back in her seat. Please, for the love of god, stop giving me the run around.

    ¡°So we won¡¯t be able to see the damn feral coming at night,¡± explained Omar.

    ¡°We can¡¯t, but can the Overlord bot?¡± Sanchez asked the table.

    After a quiet moment as they considered, Tod asked, ¡°The freaky one next to your office?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s just sitting there. It¡¯s not doing anything.¡±

    ¡°Can we order it around?¡± asked Jess. ¡°Is that something we can just do?¡±

    Sanchez shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s worth a shot. Tell it to get up on the roof, watch the skies, and let us know if it spots the damn feral.¡±

    The others around the table exchanged looks. Miya shrank as low as she could in her oversized chair, until her eyes were near level with the table top. I¡¯m not getting anywhere near that thing. Absolutely not. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s human shaped.

    Solid Tod, true to his name, broke the silence. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll give it a shot.¡±

    Sanchez nodded. ¡°Good. Take a couple guys with you. Just in case.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Tod grumbled as he rose from his chair and lumbered out of the room, doing his best to avoid looking at either Jess or Miya.

    The group dispersed after Tod¡¯s exit. Otto gathered up his papers, giving Jess a polite if disinterested nod as she tried to chatter to him about potential city wide water restrictions. Miya followed Sanchez out the side door, towards his office. As he poured himself a stiff drink from the finely carved liquor cabinet against the wall by his desk, Miya slipped off to the corner of the room. She claimed one of the pair of armchairs around a low desk, sinking into the soft cushions. I want one of these. The soft hiss of well oiled hinges caught her ear as Omar followed them in, making sure to close the door behind him.

    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± said Omar with a wave of his hand, as Sanchez offered him a glass. ¡°Wanted to talk with you.¡±

    ¡°Something on your mind?¡±

    ¡°Jess.¡± Omar opened and closed his mouth, thinking. Oh boy. Miya shrank down in her seat once more. Don¡¯t look at me, I have no opinions about the bitch.

    ¡°What about her?¡±

    Omar shrugged and reluctantly said, ¡°You can¡¯t keep bringing her to these things, man.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean I can¡¯t?¡± asked Sanchez, voice deadly calm. Miya eyed the pair of them. Unlike Tod or Sanchez, Omar didn¡¯t shop at the big and tall section of the clothing store. That didn¡¯t stop him from dissecting a man with his fists in the Arena, the one time Miya had visited.

    ¡°What does she add? I know her daddy is rich. I know he¡¯s a good business partner, but man, what does she have to say?¡± insisted Omar.

    Sanchez finished off his whisky with a single swig. ¡°Come on, man. Every person in that room has thicker skin than that. Everyone has taken worse. You can take a little needling.¡±

    ¡°Every damn time? There¡¯s only so much a man can take before he¡¯s got to respond. You know this. You look at Tod and tell me he¡¯s happy when she¡¯s in the room.¡±

    ¡°He hasn¡¯t said anything. He¡¯s a big boy, if he has a problem he¡¯ll say it.¡±

    ¡°With you or me? Sure. With a woman? Tod is just going to take it in silence until he blows up. You know how he is.¡± I want to see his arm again, now that I think about it. I¡¯m pretty sure I saw a tattoo of a heart with a name crossed off on it. Those are always funny.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the Army anymore. I can¡¯t just give marching orders. She gets pissed off and tells daddy, we¡¯ve got a bunch of guys shit out of luck and looking for work. Still his name on the building.¡±

    ¡°I know. But we need to have our shit together, or we¡¯re fucked. The more people we got to deal with up top? The worse it gets.¡±

    The pair shot simultaneous glances towards Miya.

    ¡°Out,¡± Sanchez commanded.

    I guess they haven''t forgotten about me. Without a word, Miya hopped out of the chair and left. Her shoulders slumped as she found herself alone in the conference room with a bored looking Jess. She looked up from toying with a lock of bleached blonde hair and flashed a too-wide smile at Miya.

    ¡°Hey, girl! You¡¯re looking a lot better. When those evil robots brought you in I thought for sure you¡¯d be out for a month.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± replied Miya.

    ¡°I know the hubby has been running you around with your magic-y stuff. Gotta take care of yourself sometime.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Like I have a choice. Did you know? Did you care? Or are you just talking?

    ¡°You were skin and bones and you can¡¯t be more than five feet. Girl, that isn¡¯t healthy¡±

    Thanks for the reminder. ¡°I''m only half an inch shy,¡± grumbled Miya.

    ¡°Once you get your hair grown out we¡¯ll get you a day at the hairdressers or something. My treat.¡±

    Oh god oh fuck. If Miya¡¯s apprehension showed on her face, Jess made no sign of noticing. The silence stretched on for only a moment before she spoke up again.

    ¡°God, they¡¯re idiots sometimes. ''Just kill them,'' he says,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°I know they¡¯re old buddies but that kind of stupidity is contagious.¡±

    Miya shrugged. Nope, nope. Not touching mob drama with a ten foot pole. Nope. She¡¯s not even good at this.

    ¡°So what were they talking about in-¡±

    She cut off as the front door opened. Tod surveyed the room, and took only a moment to choose between Jess and Miya. ¡°Hey, where¡¯s boss?¡± he asked Miya.

    ¡°Talking with Omar, it seemed important,¡± she replied, keeping her answer curt. Maybe he likes directness. I could use an ally here.

    He nodded and grunted, ¡°Robot¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I told it to look out for a big flying feral. It looked at me with its freaky scream face for a couple seconds, then walked up the stairs. I followed it all the way to the roof.¡±

    ¡°Told?¡± asked Miya.

    He shrugged. ¡°Asked.¡±

    ¡°That easy? Huh,¡± replied Miya.

    ¡°Yeah, I know what the fuck I¡¯m doing,¡± shot back Tod. Whoops. His fists clenched, and Miya came to the crashing realization his arm was as thick around as her chest.

    I¡¯ve got to get out of here.

    ***

    Thunder shook the building, as the brewing storm descended from the mountain slopes that night. Miya hovered off to the side of Sanchez¡¯s office, the room heavy with tension. Guards kept to their floor, no one wandering off lest they be picked off.

    Tod leaned his head in through the door. ¡°The bot reported in. The feral is circling.¡±

    Sanchez rose from his desk, shrugging off his suit jacket. ¡°Buckle up.¡±

 25: Steel Chewer

    Chapter 25: Steel Chewer

    Thunder rolled across the plains. A handful of raindrops spattered against Olivia¡¯s half folded wings as she prepared herself to dive into yet another gunfight. She found herself swaying for a moment as a wave of nausea washed over her.

    ¡°You alright?¡± asked Chris, his blue bandana covering his face muffling his words ever so slightly.

    ¡°The thunder,¡± stammered Olivia. ¡°It¡¯s loud. I¡¯m OK.¡± Bad early memories, that¡¯s all. There¡¯s no dumpster up here, I can¡¯t smell one. It''s OK.

    ¡°The rain¡¯s coming in,¡± he observed, looking out into the night sky. ¡°Are you good to fly?¡±

    Who was the old me? Would she be scared? No one else seems to care about the thunder. She was probably normal, she wouldn''t have cared either. Another rumble, closer this time, caught her ear. It¡¯s not that bad. I¡¯ve been shot, that hurt way worse.

    ¡°I think so.¡± It¡¯s just water. Water and sound. It can¡¯t be that bad.

    He nodded. ¡°Get that jammer on the roof like we talked about while we get past the fence.¡±

    The others climbed down from their rooftop hideout across the street. Olivia waited a few moments, then glided across the night sky, keeping pace with her friends on the ground. The rain picked up in intensity, a few errant drops turning into a steady beat. Who is that? Her eyes struggled to focus on a dark figure on a passing rooftop. It vanished as she blinked water out of her eyes. Huh, why am I looking over there? She returned her sight to her goal, the multi story building with Lehman Construction in a clean, utilitarian font written near the top.

    With her wings spread to their full extent, more and more rain splattered against her. She pulled up, getting a few more feet of altitude against the growing downpour. A flash and a clap of thunder nearly knocked her out of the sky. Olivia found nothing to brace herself against the eddies and gusts as she flew upwards, towards the rooftop. Her claws bit only into air in an attempt to stabilize her. Sheets of rain hit her in waves battering her around. What happened to the little drizzle? That was only a minute ago! The wind twisted her wing, sending her plummeting down until she righted herself. She came to a hard landing right beside the others.

    ¡°I can¡¯t get up there,¡± gasped Olivia, one hand bracing herself against the wall just in case the storm was as bad on the ground. ¡°The wind. I¡¯m sorry¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll make due. Skulker, any luck?¡± asked Chris, raising his voice to be heard over the storm.

    ¡°Nope,¡± said Ben, kneeling in front of a heavy metal door to a wing split off from the main building, a few thin bits of metal in the lock. ¡°You wanna pick it, ¡®liv¡¯?¡± he asked, rising up.

    ¡°Huh?¡± she asked. I have no idea how to pick a lock.

    ¡°He means break it down,¡± called out Amanda, voice cold and robotic through the helmet she wore.

    ¡°Oh, OK.¡± I know how to do that.

    Olivia pulled her leg up and kicked. The door bent inwards a few inches without breaking, damaged in two different places by her toe and heel claws. That¡¯s never happened before. Olivia slammed into the door three more times before it finally gave way.

    ¡°The hell they make this thing out of?¡± asked Ben, cut short by a few shots ringing out from inside. One hit the door and ricocheted off into the night, a few more whizzed past Olivia as she flinched back.

    The others followed suit, pulling away from the opened door. Ben and Chris both knelt low and peeked around either side, firing off shots down the hallway before pulling back. Silence reigned as no bullets returned. Amanda withdrew a small plastic stick from her back and poked it around the corner.

    ¡°They¡¯re gone,¡± she announced. Oh, I guess she can see through the stick thing.

    Chris took the lead inside, Olivia bringing up the rear in case of ambush. I think all I¡¯m supposed to do is listen for people behind us. I think that¡¯s it. They pushed their way inside single file, hurrying towards the center of the building and a way up to Sanchez¡¯s office. Amanda followed a rough map of the interior, leading them to a stairway to use.

    They passed through a cubicle farm, empty and quiet in the night. Olivia ducked down beneath the flimsy padded walls after watching the others do the same. My wings are still sticking out. Wait. Olivia paused, listening over the sound of rain pounding the roof. Breathing.

    A few shots rang out. The others dove down as the bullets bit into cubicle walls. Olivia spun towards the direction they¡¯d come from, finding nothing but receding footsteps. Beyond that, silence reigned once more.

    ¡°No one hit?¡± asked Chris.

    They all answered in the negative as they picked themselves off the floor. Olivia glared at the hallways the shooters had disappeared down.

    Amanda guided them further in, past a dark and unoccupied break room. As they paused at an intersection, Olivia heard a door handle turn from far behind them. A handful of bullets peppered Olivia¡¯s back, the shooters fled by the time she turned. She suppressed a hiss of pain and irritation. Come here!

    ¡°Don¡¯t chase,¡± said Chris as he congealed himself out of liquid form. Amanda and Ben peeled themselves off of the nearby walls.

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± asked Olivia, letting out a tense breath. I keep expecting a big fight.

    ¡°Same guys?¡± he asked in reply.

    Olivia paused and sniffed the air. A faint smell of cigarette smoke from the direction of the latest shooters caught her attention. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pressure, they¡¯re building for an ambush.¡±

    ¡°And we have no jammer,¡± added Amanda. ¡°Stay or go?¡±

    ¡°Stay,¡± replied Chris without hesitation. ¡°We¡¯re committed, we won¡¯t have an opportunity like this again.¡±

    They continued deeper in, passing another office space and a series of dark conference rooms. Isn¡¯t this place a gang hideout? Or a construction office? Or both? Amanda had them double back to a four way intersection, one hallway leading off to an exit door, the other stopping short in a dead end, only a few feet away. She took a moment to study something on the wall, though Olivia could only see a small bank of light switches and a thermostat. Olivia joined the others in watching the other hallways of the intersection at Chris¡¯ direction. Amanda moved on to the dead end, kneeling down to examine the floor.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Chris asked her.

    ¡°I thought that switch placement was wrong. This wall is fake,¡± she announced.

    Ben nudged Olivia with an elbow and motioned to the offending wall. She rammed her shoulder into it. The drywall over a bare bone wooden frame collapsed into dust without resistance, revealing an entire corridor they hadn¡¯t seen before.

    ¡°Where the fuck are we?¡± asked Ben. ¡°This why we¡¯re just wanderin¡¯?¡±

    Olivia heard footsteps from down where they¡¯d come from. She shouldered her way past Chris and spread her wings, filling the hallway. A couple pistol shots rang out, clipping her. The others ducked and pressed against the walls out of instinct at the sharp sound.

    ¡°You OK?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Olivia through gritted teeth. ¡°It was just two. They¡¯re gone,¡± she added as Ben readied his own pistol.

    ¡°They¡¯re trying to hide something,¡± replied Chris, taking point once again.

    Even in a rush, they quickly found the hidden rooms to be empty of anything important, save the last. Ben stopped at a large window to what was originally a conference room. Inside lay what appeared to be a comfortable, if small, makeshift apartment, complete with a bed, small TV, and nightstand.

    In the window stood a man. The skinny figure wore the remains of a charcoal suit. Frayed bits of string marked where the buttons used to be, the right sleeve ended in a ragged tear around the man¡¯s elbow, and an oblong yellow stain marred the pants. Don¡¯t think about what that might be. At all. The once-white shirt beneath looked like it had been scribbled on with purple crayon.

    He pressed himself against the window with a dull thud at the sight of them. The pinky finger on his left hand ended in a knobby purple stump. ¡°Have you heard the good news?¡± he demanded, his voice cracking in desperation even muffled through the glass.

    Ben gave a snort of amusement. ¡°Pass.¡±

    ¡°How long did it take for anyone to notice? Your own flesh and blood?¡± Ben froze, utterly still for once. ¡°Anyone else but two more of you? Don¡¯t you see?¡±

    Under his breath, so low Olivia struggled to hear, Ben whispered, ¡°No one noticed, no one cared.¡±

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    The man¡¯s eyes drifted over towards Olivia. That instant he let out a screech. He slammed his shoulder blades against the opposite wall, laughter mixed in with screams of agony as he clawed at his hands and feet. Olivia froze, eyes locked on him. She pulled her wings closer in around herself, as if he could reach through and grab her at any moment.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t¡­ Bwa ha ha! She doesn¡¯t know. Ha! She doesn¡¯t remember,¡± he gasped out, shakily pointing at Olivia with the four fingered hand, the other hand clenched in a fist and slamming against the ground. He dissolved into maniacal giggling again as he kicked. What? Does he know me? I¡¯ve never seen him. Did I know him before? Olivia took a step forward.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± demanded Chris.

    The madman said, ¡°She blames the universe, but no. No! Only a small part deserves it. Very small. That''s not even the worst!¡±

    ¡°An¡¯ what¡¯s the worst?'''' asked Ben, breaking his silence. ¡°The part to blame?¡± Olivia remembered she could move, shooting Ben a confused glance. He didn¡¯t return it, his gaze still locked on the man.

    ¡°They¡¯re one and the same! Don¡¯t you see? They¡¯re one and the same! She¡¯s looking for both, good and bad.¡± Oh come on.

    ¡°Both? What do you mean both?¡± asked Chris. The madman just laughed hysterically. Stop it. Do you know who I am? Say something.

    ¡°You ever read the Bible?¡± asked the man in mock seriousness.

    Ben grabbed her shoulder and pulled her along without resistance, even as she let out a growl of frustration. ¡°Keep movin¡¯,¡± he said, his voice still deadly quiet. What about the Bible? I should know something about that, shouldn¡¯t I? Chris and Amanda followed right after, steering clear of the window.

    ¡°Did he know me?¡± asked Olivia, voice hushed even to her ears.

    ¡°Nah,¡± snapped Ben. ¡°Never seen him before either, an¡¯ he-¡± He cut himself off. ¡°No way. Somethin¡¯s weird about him. Power maybe.¡±

    Three more shots from down the hallway broke their concentration. All went wide, simply digging into the walls well short of their targets, but the sharp noise and rush of danger brought reality crashing back down on them. The new shooters retreated as the other had, before they could muster anything but a few potshots back..

    ¡°Fight now, think later,¡± said Ben with a laugh as he peeled himself from the wall, as if he hadn¡¯t been deadly serious, just a moment ago. It¡¯s that easy?

    ¡°Keep an eye out if they¡¯ve tried that same false wall trick again,¡± said Chris, motioning them in the right direction.

    Olivia took up the rear once more, attention split between their surroundings and what the madman had just said. Bible? What about it? It¡¯s a book? An important one, I think. And I¡¯m looking for both, good and bad. I¡¯m looking for lots of stuff. Olivia nearly toppled Ben over as she collided with him, the group having come to a sudden stop right in front of her.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°These stairs are mined,¡± announced Chris.

    Another shot rang out, burrowing into a wall a few feet to Olivia¡¯s left. The others flinched, pulling back into their respective doorways. Chris eyed Olivia for a moment. No, please. Bullets hurt, I don¡¯t want to set off a big bomb thing. He thought the better of it, his gaze turning upward as he thought.

    ¡°Delta? Ideas? Maybe set them off?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, but we don¡¯t have time to experiment and I don¡¯t want to lose my legs,¡± she replied in a rush, keeping an eye on where the next shooters might come from.

    ¡°We keep moving. Find another staircase.¡±

    ¡°How they gettin¡¯ around?¡± demanded Ben as they set off. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ bombing their own stairs.¡±

    ¡°Elevators,¡± replied Amanda. ¡°We can¡¯t use them unless we¡¯re suicidal, but they can.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re powered off already,¡± said Olivia in confusion.

    ¡°When we¡¯re near ¡®em, yeah,¡± grumbled Ben. Oh, duh. I guess they just turn them off. And that¡¯s why we¡¯re not using them! Oh, I¡¯m just dumb.

    ¡°There''s roof access this way, it might be another way,¡± said Amanda.

    A few minutes, and two more false ambushes later, they came to a door she indicated. Is this why I can¡¯t figure out who I am? It was obvious to that weird guy. Is there something missing and I¡¯m just dumb? She turned around as the others opened the door, making sure no one would take pot shots at them while her back was turned.

    They found themselves on the ground floor of an equipment depot. Bright orange traffic cones lay stacked along one wall, pallet jacks and dollies another. Several pickup trucks sat parked at the far end, loaded with tools of all kinds, though Olivia didn¡¯t recognize any outside the obvious. True to Amanda¡¯s word, there was a door on the catwalk ringing the room itself, just to their left. Maybe I should have questioned that guy more. But I froze up like an idiot.

    They climbed the narrow metal stair to the catwalk, Olivia squeezing through after everyone else with her wings. There¡¯s not enough room in here.

    The catwalk ahead of them detonated. Chris turned to liquid, absorbing Amanda¡¯s fall for her as the twisting catwalk threw them down into the depot. Olivia and Ben managed to cling to one of the guardrails, climbing up to more stable footing the moment they could. Shouting filled the room, not theirs. From hiding places behind equipment and vehicles, a dozen gang members, armed to the teeth, emerged and began filling the air with lead.

    One held what it took Olivia a moment to recognize as a hand grenade.

    ¡°Scatter! Other side!¡± yelled Chris, pointing to a door on the second floor, on the opposite end of the depot. He and Amanda ducked low and scrambled away, bullets whizzing over their heads. Olivia stared at the ambush. How did I not hear them? Oh god I¡¯m stupid. I wasn¡¯t paying attention. Stupid stupid stupid.

    Ben nearly tacked her around the waist, pulling her to cover behind a broad support beam. ¡°Move!¡±

    Right! Right. They¡¯re trying to kill us. Olivia doubled over as the grenade exploded. Nothing hit her or Ben, but the soundwave split her ears. It took her a moment to recognize Ben patting her on the shoulder.

    Over the din of the ambush and the piercing ringing in her ears, she heard him say, ¡°We need to give Nomad and Delta cover, they¡¯re sitting ducks.¡±

    Olivia managed a nod. Protect. She dove over a guard rail, tucking in her wings as far as she dared to avoid getting caught between two support beams. She landed feet first on the roof of a truck nearest to an ambusher, her toe claws punching into the metal.

    The crack of a gunshot rang out. The woman saw her as she came in, beginning to bring her gun up. Olivia collided with her before it moved more than a few inches. Olivia slammed her to the ground with one arm, the other grabbing her gun. A couple reflexive shots went wide. She heard other shots from somewhere else above her. Ben.

    Olivia considered the woman below her. Unconscious. Keep moving. She jumped to her feet. Ben, pistol drawn and still on the catwalk above, had two others down. ¡°Keep movin¡¯,¡± he shouted. I know. She found a couple focused on firing at Amanda and Chris across the room and charged.

    She smacked one ambusher down with her shoulder, then grabbed another who reacted too slow. She bent the elbow of the man she held. I¡¯m really sorry. A crack, this time from bones. She threw the guy aside, not wanting to do any more harm to a guy who probably was out of the fight at that point. Then another crack, this time from Ben¡¯s pistol. This time she saw an exposed guy jerk a bit, then fall. Don¡¯t think about that right now. Don¡¯t.

    A bit of metal caught her eye. Not a glint, but the total lack of one against an otherwise shiny and chaotic surface. She saw a humanoid figure crouched with a rifle resting on a guard rail, its face a mask of a person screaming in agony. It did not breathe, its skin of gunmetal grey utterly still. The thing reeked of a familiar sickly sweet oil. It raised a rifle from across the room, shorter and sleeker than others she¡¯d seen, with no vents or details along its metal exterior.

    All the times Olivia had been shot, the number shots in her general direction vastly exceeded the number that she actually felt. The robot¡¯s rifle let out three soft clicks, and Olivia felt three hammer blows to her gut drive the breath from her lungs. With a hiss of pain, she staggered back a step, clutching her stomach. Move!

    Three shots slammed into the base of her wings as she ran. She stumbled, but didn''t stop as she reached the relative safety of some shelves. Where the robot had crouched before, she saw no trace. After taking a moment to breathe, she poked her head out to look for her friends.

    Another three shots from the robot at a different angle, this time catching her throat. She ducked down and hacked out a cough, struggling to clear her airway for a moment. Gut, spine, throat. Hitting soft parts. It won¡¯t miss, it will kill the others. I can''t be useless. Once sweet air filled her lungs again, she forced herself up and moving. It took her only a second to find the robot. Though deathly quiet, the sweet smell of its distinctive oil allowed her to zero in on its perch once more. It crouched in a giant pile of silver coils whose purpose Olivia did not know, its gunmetal skin blending in.

    Bullets slammed into her outstretched palm protecting her face as she ducked low and charged the gap. Scales fractured and bent, but no bullet pierced her hand. The robot, not interested in a fist fight, pulled back when she reached halfway, slipping out of immediate sight. No. She careened through the thinner than expected coils, catching sight of the retreating robot. It withdrew a handgun from its thigh and contorted itself. It fired over its shoulder at her without looking with another three shot burst, though with less accuracy than with the rifle in its other hand.

    As cool and efficient as the robot was, Olivia¡¯s long stride took her to it faster. With a snarl, she took a swing the moment she reached it. The robot¡¯s chest bent in half at an impossible angle for a human, letting Olivia¡¯s swing go right over it. It tossed aside its handgun as Olivia opted for a straight grab at what would have been its gut. As it twisted back to a more natural standing position, its rifle free arm shifted. A blade, nearly a foot long, sprang from its forearm and slashed her. With a hiss of pain, she recoiled.

    Olivia stared down at the red bleeding gash on her inner forearm. It also froze for a fraction of a second, studying her. Wings spread wide, she let out a roar and charged the robot. Instead of backing away as before, it twisted, blade striking at her right while it¡¯s body flashed to the left. Her eyes fixed on the weapon, her swing missed the actual robot completely as it ducked behind her.

    Something stung on the back of her neck. Olivia whipped her tail around, catching the robot off guard in the hip. It limped back, one of its legs struggling to move properly. Now. With her opponent off balance, she rushed in. She took another slash to the forearm, hooking her claws in to make sure the robot couldn¡¯t repeat the wound for a third time. It brought its rifle, unused since she¡¯d closed the gap, towards her gut. She grabbed that too.

    With a snarl, Olivia bit down on its neck and wrenched her head back. Her shark teeth punched into metal and tore chunks free, leaving the robot with a giant ragged gash in its neck, sparks and a trickle of oil sent flying. She spat out the foul tasting scrap as the robot twisted its bladed arm free of her grip, releasing its own on the rifle. How?

    The robot, its screaming face flopping and dangling by half a neck, fought on as if nothing had happened. With a kick to her chest that served more to push itself back and away, it broke and scrambled through a window on all fours, glass shattering as it scraped against metal. Olivia¡¯s claws missed its retreating foot by an inch. She growled in frustration.

    ¡°Come here, you scaly bitch!¡± A familiar boom rang out, echoing through the depot, and a punch from Solid Tod sent Olivia bouncing off the side of the wall. The cut on her arm stung as it scraped against the metal wall. She climbed to her feet, a hiss rising in her throat. You again. Leave me alone.

    Tod feinted another punch to her head. As she brought up her arm to defend herself, his kick caught her in the short ribs. He danced away before she could counterattack, leaving her wide open to the handful of gunmen he¡¯d brought along. She didn¡¯t bother to roar at them even as her jaw made the motion, instead diving behind a set of traffic cones as they opened fire. With a boom, Tod came into view behind her.

    She spun around, met his eyes, and dug her claws in. Try me. With a boom, he shot, not into her, but to the side. Before she could adjust her brace, a second boom struck her and sent her flying once again, landing in a wide open stretch of the room. The gunmen opened fire on his orders, bullets slamming into her. They couldn¡¯t miss. She curled up, protecting her head and chest as best she could with her seven limbs. She only looked up once the shooting finally gave out, near deaf from the ringing in her ears.

    Tod leveled a shotgun at her at point blank, a smile of grim satisfaction on his face.

    A metal slug hit her in the skull.

 26: Spitting Teeth

    Chapter 26: Spitting Teeth

    Well that sucks, Skulker though. He pulled back with his pistol behind some shelves, eyeing Solid Tod as he hefted his shotgun onto his shoulder and turned with a wide grin to the rest of his gang. Didn¡¯t Olivia fuck him up when they hit her apartment? How is he back in action so fast?

    After getting the drop on two, half of the gang had tried to bury him in lead in their depot ambush, the other half doing the same to Nomad and Delta. With those two running for their lives out of the depot, pursuers hot on their heels, Skulker abandoned fighting and simply kept hidden, teleporting to keep an eye on Olivia. Not that she made it easy once she charged off, roaring and hissing, at some distant figure.

    His own pursuers kept together, refusing to wander alone where he could teleport in and pick one off. Even now, after nearly a minute with no contact, they stalked on the catwalks he¡¯d abandoned on the other side of the room. The moment he broke cover they would come running.

    Olivia lay on the ground behind Tod, unmoving after taking the shotgun slug to the head. Come on then, get up. Is she dead? He found himself gripping his pistol tighter than usual, his knuckles white against the black metal. Worry gnawed at the pit of his stomach. She can''t be dead. Skulker spotted her chest slowly rise and fall. Oh, thank god, she¡¯s not dead. Cool. He eyed the half dozen gang members around her, Tod included. Teleportation meant nothing if one lucky bullet caught him in the spine. Or gut. Or head. Or leg. They hadn¡¯t noticed she still lived, but that wouldn¡¯t last long, and they had plenty of ammo for when they did.

    Skulker eyed the exit ground floor exit. Going back the way they came would lead to a long run down open corridors that could have a gunman hiding anywhere. His own hunters were now at the second floor door they¡¯d tried to reach initially to get higher in the building, along with a window Olivia had shattered. Following Delta and Nomad out would be the best course of action. He might run smack into their attackers, but they would have their backs to him, and he would have more freedom to maneuver than in the cramped equipment depot. He could still hear gunshots from that direction over the dwindling thunderstorm.

    She¡¯s still breathing though. Ain¡¯t dead yet. They¡¯re just gonna shoot her. Come on, I¡¯ve seen you shrug off bullets before. He paused, watching for a moment to see if she would recover. Kind of a shame to just drag her through all this and leave her. No one else around to care. The trio hunting him left, assuming he¡¯d followed Nomad and Delta out of the room.

    He spared a glance at the exit before he padded off to the original ambush point, where four bodies lay scattered. Olivia had crushed two, Skulker shot two others. One of Olivia¡¯s had curled into a ball, clutching a ruined arm and muttering in delirious pain. After a moment¡¯s searching, he found some grenades on one of the still bodies that they¡¯d used to break up Skulker¡¯s group.

    A few quick teleports brought him to another hiding spot. Tod had clustered off with half of his men away from Olivia, checking their guns and redistributing ammo. The other half had spread out, keeping an eye out.

    ¡°What are you up to back there?¡± Tod called out over his shoulder.

    ¡°Somethin¡¯s weird. Boss!¡± called out one of the men, kneeling down to inspect Olivia.

    Time¡¯s up. She¡¯s far enough away. I hope. Skulker pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade towards the largest group, Tod included. The grenade bounced off the concrete floor and came to a stop in the middle.

    ¡°Down!¡± With a boom, Tod grabbed a man and shot away from the lump of dark green metal, shotgun dropping to the ground.

    The grenade exploded, shooting shrapnel all among the men around it. Skulker peaked his head out from behind his cover.

    Tod, the man he¡¯d grabbed, and the man closest to Olivia still stood. Aiming high, Skulker fired off half a dozen shots at the one over Olivia. One managed to find its mark, hitting him and sending him sprawling. A boom shook the shelves, sending tools rattling as Tod appeared right next to Skulker¡¯s flank.

    ¡°Get on your goddamn knees!¡± Tod spat in Skulker¡¯s face, face contorted with rage. Fuck, that was fast.

    Skulker managed to dodge out of the way of the haymaker Tod threw towards his head. Another dodged punch, and Skulker turned and teleported away to get some room. He turned around again, back towards Tod¡¯s direction, and saw Tod lunge from a good fifteen yards away. Reflexively he froze time¡­

    ¡­and stopped Tod¡¯s fist, an inch from shattering his skull. Tod was frozen, and not just because of the time thing. He¡¯d traveled about fifteen yards in the exact same position as he started, lunging fist first.

    He ducked under the fist, moving to behind Tod. One, he thought, keeping a mental timer of seconds.

    Still moving. He readied his pistol. Two.

    Still moving. His head pounded in pain. Three.

    He now stood behind Tod. Four.

    He prepared himself, standing firm and aiming directly at the back of Tod¡¯s head, finger on the trigger. Five. Time resumed.

    He pulled the trigger. A gunshot as the pistol pushed back into his hands. Tod came to a stop where Skulker had been standing, then turned back towards Skulker and punched again, catching him off guard. I fucked up somehow. Did I miss? Skulker reflexively teleported, smacking his face into a wall but avoiding the bone shattering punch Tod would have driven into him. Tod capitalized on his surprise, punching Skulker in the gut without his power, elbowing him in the head, then grabbing it with both hands and driving it into his knee. Fuck. Ow. Fuck. Ow.

    Skulker reeled back from the blows to the head, somehow still standing. He covered his head with an arm, firing his pistol from the hip to either kill Tod or force him to back off. Three shots whizzed past Tod, distracting him enough for Skulker to wiggle free and teleport out. Before he could regain his bearings, Tod teleported with a boom right after. This is no fun, being on the other end of this, Skulker thought as he wheezed out a breath.

    He ducked left as Tod careened over him. Going for the head again. Tod overshot him, stumbling over Skulker. The man Tod had pulled from the grenade tackled Skulker in the midsection, blindsiding him. The two of them hit the ground, the force triggering a shot from his pistol. The shot ricocheted off, biting into something wood in the depot. Skulker managed to free a knife from his belt as the larger man pinned his gun hand to the ground.

    The man swung to the side, giving Tod room to swing a kick at Skulker. Skulker slashed with his knife, scoring a deep cut on Tod¡¯s leg for his efforts. Tod dropped with a gasp of pain. The man on him realized too late what was happening, taking two stabs to the gut as he released Skulker''s arm to defend himself. Another stab and the man went limp, clutching his ruined gut instead of wrestling.

    Skulker dropped his knife and dug himself out from beneath the man as Tod let out a feral grunt. They both struggled to their feet at the same time, eyes locked on each other. I¡¯m faster.

    Skulker fired as Tod tensed to lunge. The first shot hit Tod straight through the shoulder, the second through the chest proper. The third shot clicked, the magazine empty. He lowered his now empty pistol, listening for a moment for anyone else who might take a swing at him. Who else wants a piece? Nothing answered his silent challenge. Hope Olivia¡¯s alright. He teleported off to her side. Still breathing. Great!

    Skulker lifted one of her arms and draped it around his shoulder. He struggled to stand under her weight. Yep, this is where all that food has been going. Eventually, he managed to half carry, half drag her through the depot and to the door.

    The thunderstorm had passed, only the occasional drip of dirty water fell from the surrounding buildings and trees. The occasional crack of gunfire some distance away rang out into the night. Well, sounds the others are still alive and fighting. Skulker hauled Olivia out of the building and away, putting as much distance between them and any other ambushers that might be left.

    He ducked down behind a parked truck as a pair of men ran past. This is too slow. Might not make it. He set her down and flicked her nose. No response, though her closed eyes did twitch. Another flick, and her eyelids fluttered open. A soft hiss died in her throat as she took in Skulker kneeling over her.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he whispered. ¡°Welcome back. We¡¯re gettin¡¯ outta here. Can you stand?¡±

    She blinked a few times, reptilian eyes unfocused. ¡°Ow. I think so,¡± she said, her soft voice now unsteady and slurred. He flinched as he spotted a couple missing shark teeth in her mouth, along with a few more chipped ones. ¡°What?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Later,¡± he replied, offering her his hand. How could you tell through the mask? Body language? Must have been.

    She stood as best she could, still requiring Skulker¡¯s shoulder to lean on. They made faster progress to the fence at the edge of the property, only having to dodge one more agitated patrol along the way. Olivia leaned against the shipping container blocking off the view of them from the building as Skulker weighed their options at the barbed wire fence.

    ¡°Climb or fly?¡± he asked, pulling his hoodie off to throw over the barbed wire at the top.

    With a grimace, she managed to stand up straight on her own power and flex her wings. ¡°I think I can fly.¡±

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°OK, get movin¡¯, quick.¡±

    He clambered up the fence, not bothering to try to untangle his hoodie after clearing the barbed wire. The rumble of approaching engines echoed off the walls. Olivia managed to get herself airborne, her wings pumping to gain altitude. Though wobbling in flight, she managed to get herself over the fence as well. Olivia half landed, half crashed, then collapsed as her legs gave out beneath her. Skulker helped haul her back up, and together they limped across the street towards another office building.

    They ducked behind the corner just ahead of the approaching cars. Shouting echoed from behind them as they noticed the left behind hoodie. We got out on the opposite side of the building, we¡¯ve got to head north for a block or two to get back to the car. Olivia stumbled, almost dragging Skulker down along with her in the process. Never mind, she¡¯s not going to make it that far. They¡¯ll catch up.

    He led them around another corner, looking for cover. They wrenched open a door, leaving behind a rock to keep it propped closed. Footsteps behind them grew closer. The two of them froze, not daring to make a sound. The gang members moved on. Skulker released his grip on his pistol, and Olivia let out a sigh of relief.

    No one looks up. Once up the stairs, they tucked into an unused office space, bare of anything but old carpet. He settled down at the corner of a window, keeping an eye on the streets below. Dozens of armed men patrolled the streets, with not a cop or civilian in sight. A few patrols passed by below, keeping an eye out for Skulker or Olivia. She simply collapsed in a heap in the corner, eyes half open.

    After nearly fifteen minutes of waiting, with no changes below, he thought, Alright, fuck it. I don¡¯t care if Lock Corp. knows about our techie stuff. Skulker activated his comm and whispered as loud as he dared, ¡°Hey, you guys hear me?¡±

    It took a few moments for the answer to come back. In a far more normal voice, Nomad responded, ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got you. The two of us are getting pushed out. What¡¯s your status?¡±

    ¡°Olivia is out of the fight, I pulled her out.¡±

    ¡°Fuck. Alright, we¡¯re leaving,¡± ordered Nomad. ¡°Get yourself and Olivia out of there and back to the car.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re hunkerin¡¯ down for now, She¡¯s in no shape to be runnin¡¯. We got guys patrollin¡¯ right near us.¡±

    ¡°Alright, do you think we can get to you?

    ¡°If you wanna get shot, sure.¡±

    ¡°Amanda¡¯s got the spare car key. We¡¯ll be in the area if you need us.¡± Static hissed at the end of Nomad¡¯s transmission.

    ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    ¡°Wait, they¡¯re jamming us?¡± cut in Delta, the static growing more incessant. ¡°Oh, you son of a bitch, don¡¯t you dare-¡± The transmission cut off. Better and better.

    Olivia sat upright, wings splayed to either side. ¡°Should we help?¡± she asked, starting to rise.

    Skulker held up a hand, stopping her. ¡°We need to help ourselves first. They¡¯re doin¡¯ the same.¡± She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped, shoulders slumping in defeat. ¡°How¡¯d you get those cuts?¡± he asked to keep her focus elsewhere, pointing to the two long gashes on her arms. They¡¯d scabbed over, though the flesh around them looked angry and red.

    She considered them for a moment, as if just remembering they existed. ¡°Um, the robot. It had a knife. It hurt.¡±

    ¡°Two questions: Robot? An¡¯ a knife?¡± You eat bullets.

    ¡°Yeah, there was a robot there. It shot me. It really hurt. When I got close it pulled a knife out of its arm and cut me a couple times.¡±

    Skulker leaned forward. ¡°Describe it.¡± Is that what I think it is?

    ¡°Like a grey person. It had a screaming face. But I don''t think it was actually a head. I bit it almost off and it didn''t care.¡± Sounds about right.

    ¡°Overlord bot,¡± explained Skulker. ¡°Don¡¯t see them too much, unless the big guy himself cares. I¡¯ve only seen ¡®em once in passin¡¯. Sanchez is more connected than I thought. I guess that was some crazy techie knife the bot had.¡±

    She studied her knees. ¡°Why am I so stupid?¡± she asked with a sigh.

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    ¡°I thought I could, I don¡¯t know. Keep everyone safe? But I got distracted. I was thinking about other stuff. I should have noticed the ambush.¡±

    ¡°Keep everyone safe?¡± he repeated. ¡°You just charged at people! They all had guns!¡±

    ¡°There was the robot. I didn¡¯t want it to kill you guys! I didn¡¯t know what else to do.¡±

    ¡°An¡¯ I don¡¯t wanna scrape you off the floor with a spatula again. We sparred for a couple hours. That don¡¯t make you some master slayer of men.¡±

    ¡°Was I smarter before?¡± she asked, motioning to her wings and tail.

    He shrugged. We¡¯ve been over this before. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you before, but you ain¡¯t dumb now. An¡¯ is this about that weirdo in the walled off bit?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. And are you OK?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Am I bleeding? he though, checking himself over.

    ¡°You seemed mad when he talked to you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± replied Skulker with a wave of his hand. ¡°He just dragged up bad memories is all. And hey, he gave us a clue. More than we¡¯ve had lately.¡±

    She frowned, thinking. ¡°I guess.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll figure somethin¡¯ out. Once we¡¯re not runnin¡¯ for our lives we can figure out what the Bible¡¯s gotta do with you. We might wanna recheck those old records, see if any car that went by is owned by a church or somethin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°He said other stuff too. ¡®They¡¯re one and the same¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Fuck riddles,¡± Skulker replied with a laugh.

    ¡°But what were you saying back there?¡± she asked. ¡°No one noticed?¡±

    Skulker leaned back, pulling his mask off his face. Not the best memories, no. He studied the streets below him out the window. A pair of guards had taken up position on either side of every entrance to the Lehman Construction building. Headlights flashed as cars came and went.

    ¡°I¡¯m a triplet. Not sure if I told you. Me, Rob, an¡¯ Sam. I was kidnapped, an¡¯ no one noticed or cared but my brothers. We were always little shit-heels, not too surprisin¡¯. I got my powers tryin¡¯ to escape. Rob got his tryin¡¯ to think of a way to get me outta there. An¡¯ Sam didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t get powers,¡± Skulker clarified. ¡°Fucked him up, too. Started wonderin¡¯ if there was somethin¡¯ wrong with him. We¡¯re identical, you know. You get your power by bein¡¯ under pressure, and two of him got it. But he didn¡¯t. I know he cared. Rob does too. But he started tearin¡¯ himself up, didn¡¯t know who he was. Or who he thought he was. I dunno. We drifted apart once we were able to get work an¡¯ move out. Wanted to see what we could do on our own, rather than with all three of us.¡± He shrugged and laughed. ¡°Not much I can do about it right now.¡±

    ¡°How are you so happy all the time? You got angry, but now you¡¯re just fine. How?¡±

    ¡°If I can¡¯t change it, I don¡¯t care about it. Can¡¯t change the past. Can¡¯t change most people, so it ain¡¯t worth stressin¡¯ out over.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s that easy?¡±

    ¡°You are what you do. Not in your past, not in your head. Worry is a choice, same as all the others.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m tired,¡± she confessed. ¡°Of being me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re fine, you feel like shit cuz you just got shot up,¡± he said with a laugh. ¡°We¡¯ll get you there. It just takes time. Get some rest, we¡¯ll bug out when they settle down out there.¡±

    ***

    At the crack of dawn, with the patrols dwindling and the guards looking sleepier and sleepier, Ben finally called in the others through his cellphone. Olivia lapsed into silence as the night stretched on, though her breathing grew steadier and her bruises subsided. I wish I could shrug off that kind of punishment. They snuck off to the opposite side of the building and stuffed themselves into the car Chris and Amanda drove. Amanda immediately passed Olivia water with a concerned look. Even with the bruises fading her clothes were still riddled with bullet holes.

    They pulled up to the lair sometime around five in the morning. Ben got out to open the shutter to the interior. Need stretch my damn legs. Can¡¯t sit much longer. Once inside, and with the door safely closed behind them, Olivia spun around and lifted Chris and Amanda up in a bear hug. ¡°You guys are OK!¡±

    Chris spasmed in surprise as his feet left the ground. Amanda managed a half croak half squeak as the hug forcibly expelled most of the air in her lungs. Where did this bravery come from, ¡®liv¡¯?

    ¡°Oh, sorry, sorry.¡± Olivia released them both and withdrew, looking apologetic. Chris took a ragged breath. Skulker laughed at them.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡­I¡¯m sorry. I just¡­¡± she trailed off, scratching the back of her neck with eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

    ¡°It¡¯s all right. Good to see you safe,¡± Chris managed. Amanda nodded, twisting to the left, then right.

    ¡°Thanks. You guys are OK though?¡± Olivia said. She¡¯s blushing a little. Do reptiles blush? Must be the human chunk.

    ¡°Some bruises and cuts, nothing too major,¡± said Chris. ¡°Amanda got grazed on the arm, but we patched that up with no problems. I know I¡¯m more tired than anything else at this point.¡±

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Ben grumbled. ¡°Long day.¡±

    With that, they drifted off. Their shower, in truth little more than a twenty dollar hose, a ten dollar roll of duct tape, and a five dollar colander set up over a floor drain in the shop they were pretty sure still worked, beckoned to Ben in his sweat stained clothes. Even if the water was freezing. Along with another twenty dollars worth of privacy curtains, it was good enough to get themselves clean.

    Chris and Olivia were both quietly talking over the table, but Amanda stayed off to the side, hunched over some laptop screen. She waved him over. That lonely, huh?

    ¡°What is this?¡± she demanded, the moment he came to her shoulder.

    He stared at the squiggly line on the screen, wiping a length of wet hair from his eyes. ¡°A thingy. A sign?¡± I think Rob mentioned those once.

    ¡°A sine wave,¡± she corrected. ¡°And no, even that¡¯s wrong.¡±

    ¡°I assume you ain¡¯t expectin¡¯ me to give a real answer.¡± He stayed as she considered the screen, Rob often used idiots like himself to bounce ideas off of whenever the techie mood hit him.

    ¡°I was worried about Olivia, I forgot to turn off my armor when we got back,¡± Amanda explained, eyes not leaving the screen. Not me, huh? ¡°I saw this weird anomaly. There¡¯s a very strange signal here, and it was back at the ambush point too. It¡¯s hidden under the noise floor, but it¡¯s there.¡± She tapped a few keys and the graph refreshed. ¡°It¡¯s still active right now.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s it comin¡¯ from?¡± he asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s a great question.¡± She leaned over, opened a drawer, and pulled out a black plastic box with a handful of buttons on the side. After tossing aside a few antenna, she decided on one and screwed it on. ¡°Take this over there,¡± she said as she flicked the On button.

    He teleported over as she hunched over her computer, typing something.

    ¡°Now over there,¡± she called out, her voice echoing through the shop.

    After a quick teleport, he saw Chris look up at the sound of their raised voices. He looked around in confusion at the two of them, but decided to approach Ben at the sight of total concentration on Amanda¡¯s face. Ben gave him the simple catch up version.

    ¡°Alright, come back. It¡¯s somewhere inside. I don¡¯t have the equipment to triangulate further,¡± called out Amanda.

    ¡°What is this signal?¡± asked Chris, as Ben tossed the box back to Amanda.

    She caught it in surprise, flipping him off before replying, ¡°Something simple and encrypted.¡±

    ¡°Can you break it?¡± ventured Chris.

    ¡°If I have a year and the signal doesn''t change, sure.¡± Come on, what kind of techie are you? Do everything, damn it!

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a no. What is that signal, then?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simple. Other than being very directed but hard to detect, it¡¯s not, like, trying to fry anything with RF burns or anything,¡± explained Amanda. ¡°Wait wait wait. Everyone, stop moving. It changed¡± Olivia froze, halfway in the process of joining them.

    ¡°Olivia, walk over there,¡± said Amanda, pointing to the far wall where Ben had stood. The graph kept up its strange twitching to Ben as she complied, but he heard a sharp intake of breath from Amanda.

    ¡°Alright. It¡¯s coming from you. You two, fuck off,¡± she said, waving away Ben and Chris. ¡°Olivia, you changed your clothes, so it might be on you personally. I can jury rig a metal detector real fast. Are you alright with it if I check your back for anything? ¡±

    Olivia glanced around at everyone, fear creeping into her expression. ¡°Um, OK,¡± she managed.

    After a moment, with Ben and Chris waiting in the offices out front, Amanda called them back in as Olivia replaced her shirt, her face pale.

    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a very small bit of metal in there,¡± she said, motioning to the back of Olivia¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Can you get it out?¡± asked Olivia, worry in her voice.

    They gazed past Olivia¡¯s wings at the red welt with a tiny scab on the back of Olivia¡¯s neck. That doesn¡¯t look like a bullet wound. Well, a bullet wound on her. Must have missed that with all the other shit she took today.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m not sure what can get through her, I don¡¯t know, Olivia-ness. And if I do, her spine is right there, I don¡¯t want to kill her through brute force by accident.¡±

    ¡°Is it a tracker?¡± broke in Chris.

    They went dead silent at the implication, broken only as Ben let out a laugh as he headed toward the ammo boxes.

 27: Dont Miss

    The doors to the small elevator slid open with a soft ding. Miya blinked her sleep deprived eyes and tried to keep up with an icy Otto as he led her through the mob headquarters.

    ¡°They¡¯re gone, right?¡± she asked, more to fill the silence than anything else. They only came out of lockdown minutes ago, once one of their patrols found some hoodie left behind when the vigilantes escaped the would-be death trap.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied, as if it were obvious. Someone is angry. I didn¡¯t think he was that close to Tod.

    She¡¯d caught sleep where she could, though with the hustle of Sanchez¡¯ war room it didn¡¯t amount to much. Vigilantes probably won''t shoot a woman curled up on a chair. Probably. It¡¯s not like they¡¯d be any worse than the mob. Probably. She had mostly sat around and waited for something to happen. The hidden backup elevators they¡¯d taken hadn¡¯t even been used during the fight, the vigilantes never making it past the first floor.

    They strode up to the doors of the equipment depot, where they had watched the triumphant, then crushing, fight over camera. A pair of grim faced guards waved them through at the sight of Otto. Inside, through the rows of equipment and materials, they found their goal. Laid out on a blanket was Solid Tod, two bullet holes in his chest. Several others lay in a line next to him, with various wounds and damage. Sanchez and Omar stood on the opposite side of the bodies from Miya, arms folded over their chests.

    ¡°Anything you can do?¡± asked Sanchez, pointing to Tod.

    She shook her head, studying the blank face of the dead man. ¡°I can only work on living things. He¡¯s been dead for a bit.¡± Looks almost peaceful. What will I look like when I die?

    ¡°You sure?¡±

    She tore her gaze from Tod and replied, ¡°Very. There¡¯s no such thing as necromancy.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen you use cow and chicken bones before.¡±

    ¡°Those aren¡¯t people. If it could potentially use magic, you can¡¯t use magic on it once it¡¯s dead. Alien, human, doesn¡¯t matter. I could maybe puppet his body around, but I don¡¯t think you want that,¡± she said, reciting the answer she¡¯d been preparing the moment she saw Tod go down.

    He studied her for a few moments, long enough for her to break eye contact out of discomfort. ¡°Help the wounded, don¡¯t get in the way of the clean up crew,¡± he ordered her.

    She did the best she could for the two survivors with bone breaks, one of them unconscious for the entire time, the other squirming and fidgeting no matter how many times she scolded him. Once she finished, she looked up to find the depot nearly empty of people. Otto had vanished along with the bodies, as Omar helped the man she¡¯d healed up and towards a waiting car.

    Sanchez waved her over, by the door of his SUV alongside Jess. ¡°You¡¯re with me. Get in. If the cops come sniffing they won''t find anything.¡±

    He¡¯s got me following him around everywhere now. Am I his good luck trinket now? He hasn¡¯t been very lucky lately.

    ***

    A meandering road on the outskirts of town took them up the flank of a hill, the last before the mountains gave way to flat golden plains until the Mississippi. Miya leaned her head against the window, watching giant, three story mansions pass by. Skinny young trees grew around vivid green lawns and pristine rocky landscaping. Well, I guess crime does pay. I was stuck shoplifting. Nearly a hundred feet separated each house from its neighbors, along with a solid, eight foot tall fence.

    They pulled into one of four garages of a sleek grey house, the driveway flanked by a pair of wrought metal lamp posts. Their lightbulbs shone out even as the sun started to rise. As the three of them climbed out, Sanchez called out, ¡°You¡¯ll get the guest bedroom on the ground floor. Get some rest, we have work to do very soon.¡±

    Without another word, he stomped off. Jess shot her a look dripping with false sympathy. ¡°Take the first left, second door down that hallway,¡± she said, also leaving Miya alone to her own devices.

    Miya only managed two hours of sleep with the sun coming in through the curtains and directly over the bed. Fuck it, I may as well explore. Most of the house seemed simply unused, or barely used. Decorations stood in perfect rows. Entire rooms held just a table, or a desk with the occasional abstract painting on the wall.

    The first place she found that looked lived in was a den, with a giant sinfully comfortable looking reclining chair in front of a wide TV. Here were touches of personality. A gun safe stood in the corner, its door shut tight. A long line of movies stood in the cabinet holding up the TV.

    A picture on the wall caught her eye. Half a dozen men in rugged camo stood side by side, smiling in the bright sun. Leaning in, she could spot a humvee in the background, and American flag patches on their arms. Half wore dark sunglasses, it took her a moment to recognize Tod, a decade younger and forty pounds slimmer. On the other side of the line, she saw Omar and Sanchez, arms slung over each other¡¯s shoulders. She glanced at the bottom right corner, catching a date written in pen. June 12th, 2003. Is that Iraq?

    She continued through the empty house. No guards? There were always a bunch at headquarters. Wait, he had the ones at his house moved to help Omar out. Something about Russians. She came across the kitchen. A spotless granite countertop, marred only by a pair of empty rice cartons from some Chinese restaurant, dominated the center. Along the back wall stood a blender, a set of knives, and a mixing bowl, none of which had ever been used. Jess sat at the kitchen table, pecking away at a laptop.

    She shot Miya a too wide smile as she padded in. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re still up. Be a dear and grab the Bossman for me, would you? He¡¯s in the second garage, to the right of where we came in. This goddamn thing isn''t,¡± she trailed off for a moment, eyes refocusing on her laptop. ¡°Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Will do,¡± said Miya, slipping out before Jess could say anything else.

    Miya tracked down the door Jess had talked about and twisted the door knob, finding it locked. She knocked on the heavy wooden door. The sound of a buzz saw came from behind it, loud even deadened by the door.

    ¡°It¡¯ll take him a while, he gets real into it,¡± said a deep voice behind her. Miya nearly jumped out of her skin, spinning around to find Omar walking up behind her. What the hell? When did you get here?

    ¡°What, sawing something?¡± she asked to cover up her surprise.

    ¡°Yeah, dude loves woodworking. Relaxing, apparently. Knock again, he might not have heard you.¡±

    Miya pounded on the door again, throwing all of her tiny weight into it. The saw stopped and after a few moments the door clicked and swung open. Sanchez stood before her, sawdust in his curly dark hair and protective glasses over his eyes.

    ¡°What?¡± He caught sight of Omar, surprised. ¡°Hey. What¡¯s going on?¡± You weren¡¯t expecting him?

    ¡°Got a problem,¡± said Omar, before Miya could answer.

    Sanchez frowned and nodded, holding the door open for them. ¡°Come on in, I¡¯m almost done.¡±

    A carved crucifix hung up on the wall overlooked the garage turned woodworking shop. Several different machines lined up another wall, the only she recognized being the circular saw with a small pile of wood dust on the floor before it.

    In the center, on a solid metal workbench, stood a nearly completed spice rack. Miya paused for a moment. The dude who holds my life in his hands is making a spice rack. Why can¡¯t anything be normal? Omar stood before Sanchez as he began measuring a plank of wood, nicking a few notches on the side with a pencil. Sweet beaded at the back of Omar¡¯s neck. The shop was warm, but not hot enough for that. Miya stood beside a wall covered in well used tools, keeping her distance.

    ¡°What are you here for?¡± Sanchez called out to her.

    ¡°Oh, your wife just wanted to know when you¡¯ll be done.¡±

    ¡°Soon. Is that all?¡±

    ¡°She started cussing out her computer, I didn¡¯t stick around.¡±

    A smile split his face, the first she¡¯d seen in the last day. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll head back up once I¡¯m done here.¡± He gave her a nod of dismissal.

    Miya left, dragging her feet. What¡¯s going on now? ¡°You have a plan, boss?¡± asked Omar, Miya already forgotten.

    ¡°Hunker down and regroup.¡±

    ¡°That all?¡±

    ¡°What else do we need?¡± replied Sanchez.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Otto¡¯s cousin got found by those four. They all had powers. Shrink says it set him back five years, easy.¡±

    ¡°Not much I can do about that now,¡± grunted Sanchez. ¡°We¡¯ve moved him and Otto, same as everyone else. Look, we¡¯re all worn out, once we get a moment to cool our heads, we¡¯ll get everyone together and hash out a new plan.¡±

    Sanchez¡¯s attention returned to his project. Omar shook his head as his hand drifted behind him. Miya spotted the hint of a pistol grip, hidden in his waistband.

    Miya glanced over at the door behind Sanchez. Her breathing quickened as it dawned on her. There¡¯s no one here but Sanchez. I¡¯m not sure which of these two would be worse. Neither has done anything for me. But if Omar will fuck over his Army buddy of a decade, he¡¯ll fuck over me.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Miya screamed as Omar reached for his gun.

    She rushed forward and collided with his arm. His footing didn''t so much as budge, but the strange angle she caught his arm at knocked his hand away from the gun. The door slammed open once more. Two men she didn¡¯t recognize stormed in, pistols in hand. Sanchez shot up, and a table flipped at the two newcomers. Sanchez didn¡¯t touch that. Miya didn¡¯t see what happened next, as Omar let out a roar and drove a fist into the side of her head. She hit another table, sending a stack of sandpaper clattering to the ground. She caught herself on the edge, all her strength now focused on standing through the pain.

    ¡°I got the girl, get him,¡± shouted Omar.

    Before Miya could muster up the wits to move again, he grabbed her shoulder and pinned her to the table. She grabbed his wrist, and gathered magic that wasn¡¯t there. Just past Omar, she could see Sanchez wrestling with one of his assailants, keeping his gun pointed well away from him, and the man¡¯s body between Sanchez and the second attacker. He spared a glance up, catching sight of Miya¡¯s situation.

    His eyes lost focus for a moment. Miya felt her magic pour into her, following her commands once again. The man held by Sanchez shoved him back while he was distracted, sending the mob boss staggering against the tool bench. Sanchez reached out his hand and telekinetically snapped a carpenter''s hammer into his grip.

    A pair of gunshots went off as Miya focused on the man in front of her. She began to seep her magic into Omar¡¯s bones. Though he couldn¡¯t see the red ribbons coiling from her hands around his wrist, he could certainly feel something happening. ¡°Stop,¡± he growled, shoving his gun into her face. Just a little more, come on.¡±

    ¡°OK, OK,¡± she gasped, trying desperately to keep from looking at the barrel of the gun an inch from her eye. Finally, his bones become brittle enough. She ducked her head and squeezed.

    Omar screamed in pain as her hands fractured his wrist. His finger twitched, firing the gun into the wall behind her. Miya wiggled out from beneath his grasp, now half deaf in one ear. She heard another couple gunshots from where Sanchez fought, Omar grasped his ruined wrist with his one good hand, the gun forgotten at his feet. ¡°What the fuck?¡±

    She dove at him, the race between her as she tried to break his bones, and him as he tried to rip her in half beginning. Omar turned to take her clumsy blow on his shoulder, even as he swayed on his feet with the pain. His good fist slammed into her skull once more, nearly breaking her grip, and thus her rapidly forming magical tether. He wrenched his arm back and slammed his elbow into her as she clung for dear life, barely conscious.

    Magically brittle bones or not, the man still had a hundred pounds of mostly muscle on Miya. His arm knocked her back and knocked some of the wind out of her lungs. Unfortunately for Omar, arm bones fractured with the blow even as they knocked her back. He dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.

    On the other side of the shop, Sanchez hit the man in the knee with his hammer. With a sickening crunch, something gave way and the man collapsed, screaming and grabbing at his leg. Sanchez ducked just in time to avoid being shot by the last man.

    Sawdust flew up on its own, flinging itself into the gunman¡¯s eyes. With a roar, Sanchez charged. His hammer swung at the attacker¡¯s head, who had enough sense to duck under and let it sail past. As Sanchez came back with another swing, the man tried to backpedal, still blinking sawdust out of his eyes.

    Omar grasped for his pistol, not too far from him. Miya kneed him in the ribs as her magic sunk deeper, causing something important to crack. Omar groaned and gave in, his breath coming in wheezing gasps as his skeleton struggled under his own weight.

    The last man abandoned his gun and grabbed for the hand with the hammer, trying to wrench it out of Sanchez¡¯s grasp. Sanchez grunted and drove his forehead into the bridge of the man¡¯s nose. The man blinked, hesitating for a moment, and that was the end of him. Sanchez swung the hammer in an overhead blow directly into the man¡¯s chest. The hammer swung three more times, the last one drawing a loud crack as something in the man¡¯s skull broke. Miya disentangled herself from Omar and stood, the adrenaline still pumping in her veins. She and Sanchez both stood stock still for a moment, panting. They exchanged a look, the only sound of them breathing, with the whimpers of Omar and the man with the broken knee.

    ¡°Get the guns, I¡¯ve got the door,¡± he said.

    ¡°Right, she mumbled, hands shaking. She scrambled around the now tossed woodworking shop and grabbed the two guns the men had held, then went back for the one Omar had threatened her with.

    ¡°Wait, Jess!¡± Sanchez shouted, charging out of the shop.

    Wait, what do I do? Miya froze, attention split between the down but not dead men and Sanchez, before opting to run after him. She followed the sound of an anguished cry, finding him seated on the floor of the kitchen, Jess¡¯s head cradled in his lap with her throat cut. The misbehaving laptop had been thrown to the side, its screen flickering.

    ¡°Fix her.¡± The command cut through the early morning air, still save for their panting.

    Miya stared back at him for a heartbeat, trying to decipher the nonsense he¡¯d just said. ¡°She¡¯s dead,¡± she explained slowly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that,¡± he snapped, halfway through lunging at her, stopped only by his wife¡¯s body on his lap. Miya flinched back at his curled fists. ¡°It hasn¡¯t been more than a minute, you can do something.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± she cried, throwing her hands up.

    ¡°Mages do shit like this all the time. Earn your fucking keep.¡± He reached into his back pocket and pulled out Miya¡¯s silver controller.

    ¡°No, no, no,¡± she said in horror, trying to back away.

    Power flowed through her as he hammered a couple buttons, and not at her direction. Overlord¡¯s implants and machines hijacked her body and mind. It latched on to Sanchez¡¯ will and intent, wild and raw and unfocused. It poured into Jess¡¯ body, attempting through brute force to restart organs, to draw breath once again, though it slid off anything not made of bone without Miya to guide it. Her hackles rose as something else took interest in the spectacle.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to summon a demon, you fucking lunatic!¡± she shouted through the strain on her brain.

    Under no natural power, Jess¡¯ free arm began to rise into the air, as if the dead woman were simply a child answering a question in class. It convulsed, the flesh swelling around twisting bones. Miya threw herself to the floor. Sanchez regained his senses and managed to click a button, shutting off the magic flow. The arm detonated the moment Miya¡¯s haphazard control was cut, slivers of warped and twisted bone embedding themselves into the nearby walls and table, as well as Miya and Sanchez.

    ¡°The fuck?¡± he whispered in horror, the controller slipping from his grasp. His arm he¡¯d used to block his face bled from at least two cuts.

    ¡°There¡¯s no such thing as necromancy, I don¡¯t care what stories you¡¯ve heard!¡± Miya shouted, half blind. ¡°Demons notice when you mess around with dead people.¡± She jabbed a shaking finger at the bloody mess for emphasis.

    She peeled herself from the ground, mercifully unscathed from the horror, and leaned her back against the wall in exhaustion. Old surgical wounds ached, despite the lack of physical stress they¡¯d been put under. An old, half forgotten buzzing vibrated in the base of her skull. Not again. Stupid of me to think I was free of that.

    Something metal tapped on the glass door in the back of the house. Both Sanchez and Miya jumped at the unexpected sound in the otherwise still house. A robot slid the back door open and walked in as if it owned the place. Miya blinked blood out of her eyes, trying to confirm what they saw for the second time that day. Its head hung off to the side, a huge semicircular chunk of its neck and upper chest ripped off. Its screaming cheek brushed against the sleek rifle bolted to its chest as it walked.

    A voice emanated from the chest of the robot, if not a person¡¯s then a very good impersonation of one. ¡°Associate,¡± it addressed Sanchez, once he bothered to look up and acknowledge its existence. ¡°We have information you may be interested in.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he demanded.

    ¡°In the recent attack, a tracker was attached to the feral. We have traced its signal here,¡± it said, displaying a satellite map with a red circle. An address and GPS coordinates were written just beneath it. ¡°If you wish to remove this continual problem, we recommend striking at its source.¡±

    The robot paused for Sanchez and Miya to digest the news. Miya shook her head, trying to get the buzzing out of her brain. Sanchez simply started blankly at the robot.

    ¡°In addition, we have detected magical defenses protecting the feral.¡± Magic feral? Bull fucking shit. Is it even a feral?

    ¡°So that¡¯s why everything bounces off of it. I don¡¯t suppose you figured out how to make good iron bullets,¡± he replied, his voice raw and cracking despite his efforts to cover it up. ¡°That thing is a blender up close.¡± It hasn¡¯t done anything other than bite and claw.

    ¡°No. However, we believe we have developed a blunter solution which may interest you.¡±

    A dog sized drone flew in through the open sliding glass door in the back, the four sleek fans on each corner letting out a quiet hum. It lowered itself onto the kitchen table and deposited a small crate, then flew off. Sanchez set Jess¡¯ head down gently on the hardwood floor before he stood and popped the top off. Miya hauled herself into an upright sitting position and craned her neck to catch a glimpse of half a dozen metal balls, the same gunmetal grey as the robot.

    ¡°A new development. Cold iron grenades,¡± the voice in the robot explained. ¡°The shrapnel will bypass magic, but retain its lethality despite the brittle nature of pure iron. It will not be equal to a true grenade, but will allow some measure of ranged offense against magic use. In this case, a peculiar feral.¡±

    ¡°No such thing as a free lunch,¡± grunted Sanchez, shooting a side glance at the robot.

    ¡°We would ask for the feral¡¯s corpse for study. Alive would be preferable, but for obvious reasons we do not expect this.¡± I wasn¡¯t just a one off. Overlord has his eye on magic for some reason.

    ¡°It¡¯s yours, but that can¡¯t be it,¡± replied Sanchez, skepticism crossing his face.

    ¡°In addition, another request concerns the one you know as Amanda Broussard. There is a reward on offer for her, if captured alive.¡±

    ¡°Overlord wants another techie for his stable?¡± Poor girl.

    The robot replied, ¡°No, in this we merely represent an interested third party. A favor for them, if you will.¡±

    Sanchez grunted, ¡°We¡¯ll see. No promises.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡±

    ¡°Will you, or the bot, whatever, be assisting?¡±

    ¡°This unit requires more adequate repairs. We judge this current investment suitable, given your current manpower.¡±

    ¡°Great, get out. We¡¯ll get our shit together, do some house cleaning, and head over.¡±

    The robot performed a shallow bow, made macabre by the rolling of its loose head, and slipped out as quickly as it had entered. It at least had the courtesy to slide the door closed behind itself. The TV still played, a merry jingle from some commercial drifting in from down the hall. Sanchez shut the lid to the grenade crate and sighed. Now what?

    Miya eyed him as he absent-mindedly cleaned himself with a dish towel. ¡°You believe Overlord?¡± she asked. ¡°He¡¯s just giving you this out of the kindness of his heart?¡± You can¡¯t be that stupid.

    ¡°No. Omar would have gotten the exact same talk. It¡¯s just business. If we can¡¯t do this we¡¯re of no use to him.¡± He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and hauled her to her feet without so much as a grunt of effort. ¡°Get up. You¡¯re my magic expert and I¡¯m in the mood to kill something else.¡±

 28: Blood and Iron

    Chapter 28: Blood and Iron

    Click.

    Which would be worse, this or just silence? Olivia asked herself. Ben loaded another round into a magazine for Chris¡¯ rifle. A carbine, he¡¯d specified at some point, a gun shorter and lighter than the rifles people kept using to shoot Olivia. He¡¯d managed to hold onto it since escaping the MHU with Amanda and her. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, even at the cost of agitating some of the bruises across her chest.

    Click.

    At the back of the shop, Olivia hovered near a stack of boxes and back wall. She leaned her shoulder against the concrete, trying to blink the exhaustion from her eyes. We¡¯ve only been back an hour. But Sanchez and his guys could be here soon. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met him. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever even seen him. Why is he trying to kill us?

    Click.

    Ben fished another bullet from the almost empty ammo box on the table in the center of the room, brass rattling against brass. He leaned back in his chair without a care in the world, as if a bunch of murderers weren¡¯t bearing down on them right that moment.

    Click.

    Amanda hunched over a large, rugged laptop, Nomad leaning over her shoulder. Feeds from several different cameras played across the screen, as the two of them tried to plan out different potential approaches Sanchez might take. They, at least, seemed as worried as Olivia felt.

    She jumped up when the expected click failed to happen, exhaustion temporarily forgotten as her wide eyes darted around, looking for any threat.

    Ben flipped the magazine over and smacked it into the table, driving the last round in. The thud echoed off the ceiling, well above even Olivia¡¯s head. The handful of other magazines, most now heavy and loaded, bounced against the table. Ben leaned forward, one hand grabbing an empty one, the other returning to the ammo box. The hiss building in Olivia¡¯s throat morphed into a weary sigh. She slumped back against the wall.

    Click.

    With nothing to help with, she could only wait, stewing in her own thoughts. Everyone else is busy. Maybe I can go outside and look around. The cameras can¡¯t see everything. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m doing anything right now anyways. I don¡¯t know what else to do and I¡¯ll sound stupid if I ask stuff. She trudged over to the back door and headed out, blinking a few times as the midday sun hit her eyes. With the back lot safe and empty, she flew up to the roof to get a better view.

    She kept back from the lip of the roof, and away from any prying eyes that might be on the ground. A random civilian might call down the whole MHU on them if they spotted her. Her half spread wings caught the warm sun as she paced between two air vents. I¡¯m always inside during the day. This feels nice. Only half focused on keeping an eye out for trouble and no one nearby, she watched and listened to the dull roar of a city in motion instead of the incessant clicking.

    The north-south highway, so small in the distance, towered over the buildings in the area. Buildings much like the one Olivia now stood atop of. If she flew over there, she would be dwarfed by a gigantic strip of concrete and asphalt, with dozens of cars and trucks passing every second. Beyond that lay downtown, towering once again above buildings that seemed to blend into the plains at her distance.

    She reached as close to the edge of the roof as she dared and turned around. Now before her lay the impassive range of mountains, with the last of the spring snow melting away from their peaks. Evergreen trees clung to their flanks, and to the line of rolling hills at their feet. A few fluffy white clouds gathered above and behind them, some of the only in view. From her vantage point, the sky stretched on unbroken in every direction as far as she could see, the land losing all details and turning into a light brown smear on the horizon. She could fly forever and never reach the end.

    I have a family somewhere out there. Probably. I hope they¡¯re nice. I still have no idea who I was though. What will I even do once I find out? Ben said he¡¯d help, but everyone has been so tired or busy trying not to die. Are we ever going to stop? Stop having someone try to kill us? How can I make it stop?

    She scratched at the fading red welt on the back of her neck with a claw. The sting had subsided, though she still felt a small alien thing under the skin. They¡¯re tracking me. Could I just run away? If I fly really far maybe they¡¯ll come for me and not the others. Would that keep everyone else safe? But if anything goes wrong, we can¡¯t help each other. We¡¯d all be dead if it weren¡¯t for each other.

    What can I do? Why are they even trying to attack us anyways? I don¡¯t want to fight anyone. Could we just talk to them? If we leave them alone they leave us alone? I think it¡¯s too late for that, though. We¡¯ve fought and killed too many times. Wait, no, I read this somewhere. That ship has sailed. That¡¯s a simile? Or metaphor? Whatever. We messed up. I messed up. Someone messed up and now we¡¯re stuck here. I wish I had known what would happen when I first met Ben. Maybe I could do stuff differently. But this is my home now, and I don¡¯t want to leave it for some guy who is trying to kill me.

    Close to the edge of the roof once more, she turned around, pacing towards the city again. What am I doing? I¡¯m sitting here worrying as people get ready to kill us. Us. Not just me. And I¡¯m pretending to keep lookout. I don¡¯t know what to do, but sitting here and worrying is what not to do. I can learn from Ben and Chris and Amanda. It would be better than just waiting around like this. With the back lot still empty and abandoned, she jumped from the roof, wings spread to reduce the impact to a light jostle to her legs as she hit the ground. Once back inside, Olivia strode up to the others.

    ¡°Perfect timin¡¯! Just about to come grab you,¡± said Ben as she joined him at the table. Amanda and Chris sat on the other side, with a blueprint of the building laid out before them. Amanda only half paid attention to the conversation, keeping an eye on the cameras on the laptop beside her. ¡°What¡¯s the plan, Blondie?¡± asked Ben, his eyes on Chris.

    ¡°We do to them what they did to us. Unless he¡¯s an idiot we¡¯re going to be hit by a lot of people. We won¡¯t win a straight up firefight,¡± explained Chris. While calm and even toned as ever, he spoke with urgency. ¡°We might not have as much room to work with, but we can slow them down, make them miserable, and grind them to the bone.¡±

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    ¡°We¡¯ve got four doors leading in here, as well as a row of garage doors. No basement, no roof access from the inside,¡± said Amanda. ¡°One of those doors is a heavy metal thing at the end of a long hallway. Chris already hauled a bunch of spare furniture and boxes to block it off.¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t be able to throw manpower at it, it¡¯s not very wide. It took me about thirty minutes to barricade, call it fifteen for them to get rid of it.¡±

    ¡°The two doors out front are glass. I¡¯ve rigged them up with shock traps, along with the windows if someone breaks them to get through. They¡¯ll be able to get through, but it buys us time to react. That leaves us with the ones back here.¡± Amanda tore her eyes from the camera feeds to spread her hand out at the shop, where all their beds and other salvaged furniture lay. Along the back wall stood a series of garage doors, along with an ordinary heavy metal one in the center.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to react to wherever they try to force entry,¡± explained Chris. ¡°Amanda has all the camera feeds routed up to her armor, we¡¯ll have to rely on her to keep us informed.¡± I can hear and smell really good. Maybe I could help? Like with that robot. Wait, what if they bring the robot again?

    Before Olivia could work out how to word her ideas, Ben tapped a knife point on one of the doors on the paper. ¡°Sittin¡¯ still in here a good idea?¡± It¡¯s safer in here, right? That¡¯s why we¡¯re running as a group already.

    ¡°No,¡± replied Chris with a shake of his head. ¡°That¡¯s why we won¡¯t. You have a sniper rifle. I suggest you find a good vantage point covering the back lot. That¡¯s where we¡¯ll strike out from first. After that we¡¯ll have to wing it.¡±

    Ben snickered and nudged Olivia. She stared at him, head tilted in confusion. Wait, was that a joke?

    ¡°Focus,¡± ordered Amanda with a roll of her eyes. ¡°If I had to guess I¡¯d say they¡¯ll try the front first, glass is a softer target than metal.¡±

    ¡°Cover the back at the beginning,¡± ordered Chris ¡°That way we can focus the three of us on the obvious. Make sure you can cover the front, too, in case anything goes wrong.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, makes sense. I hope you ain¡¯t expectin¡¯ me to start poppin¡¯ heads at will. Not much practice, ammo is expensive for the damn thing.¡±

    ¡°As long as you make them miserable,¡± replied Chris. Ben cackled.

    ¡°What should I do?¡± asked Olivia, finally able to get a word in.

    ¡°You¡¯ll start with us,¡± said Chris, motioning to himself and Amanda. ¡°We need to stick together, don¡¯t charge at the first person who shoots at us.¡±

    Olivia felt her cheeks heat up. I guess I do that a lot. ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°If we move outside, get in the air. If not, keep off to the side. If any of them get to close, slap them down. Life will be easier for Amanda and I if we don¡¯t have to worry about a flank.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± I guess that makes sense.

    At the sight of her hesitance, Amanda asked, "Something wrong?"

    Olivia flicked the tip of her tail back and forth as she chose her words carefully. "Could we just run away? All of us? I get that we don''t want to split up."

    "If they''re tracking you, running won''t matter. I''d rather have solid walls that I know between me and whoever comes knocking," explained Chris.

    "Could we zap that tracker or somethin''? Ben asked Amanda. Would that work? That would be good. It kind of feels like this is all my fault right now.

    "I thought about that," she replied. "If I had a direct connection, that would be easy, but then we wouldn''t be having this conversation in the first place if I could cut into it. Without that I would have to throw more power into her neck then I would be comfortable with."

    "What do you mean ''comfortable''?" asked Chris.

    "It means a very good chance it kills her. Like, more so than the gang coming to kill us."

    They continued laying out several contingencies as Ben slipped out with his long rifle. Olivia kept pace as best she could with Amanda and Chris as they bounced ideas off of each other. OK. Maybe we know what we¡¯re doing. Maybe I know what to do for once.

    Amanda¡¯s computer let out a loud beep, causing Olivia to jump in her seat. On screen, half a dozen cars and trucks barrelled towards their hideout from one of the nearby side streets. Olivia frowned, spotting some strange thing in the back of one truck in the brief moment she could see into its bed.

    ¡°That¡¯s got to be them,¡± confirmed Amanda.

    ¡°Here we go,¡± said Chris, slipping his blue bandana over his face. How is he so calm? ¡°Skulker, you in position?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Watchin¡¯ now. They¡¯re splittin¡¯ up. I got the back half.¡±

    Amanda and Chris checked their guns one last time, moving to take their predetermined positions. Olivia followed after them. They kept out of sight, unwilling to give their attackers a target. Olivia tapped her claws against the wall she leaned against, seeking some outlet for the nervous energy building up.

    ¡°They¡¯re stoppin¡¯. Stand by.¡± The seconds ticked by, with no sound from the front. ¡°Technical! Front side, get down!¡± shouted Ben over the comms. What?

    ¡°Olivia, on the ground,¡± ordered Chris. The urgency and worry in his voice sent a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

    She lay flat not a moment too soon. Heavy gunfire, heavier than Olivia had ever seen or heard before, tore through the entire front of their shop. The ordinary fire she¡¯d seen before bounced off of solid walls and floors. These bullets dug in deep, kicking up puffs of concrete dust. Glass shattered and drywall disintegrated. Some shots drilled straight into the back shop, where they¡¯d been living for the past few weeks.

    ¡°Skulker!¡± shouted Chris into his comm, his voice half drowned out by the gunfire.

    ¡°Bad angle, movin¡¯!¡± came the response.

    The fire continued unabated. Amanda had dragged most of her equipment to a room in the center of the building, hoping to keep it out of harm¡¯s way. Whatever heavy gun they fired tore through boxes and wood. Olivia could hear boards and glass breaking from that direction. She spotted Amanda also looking in that direction, her expression was unreadable beneath her helmet. They¡¯re just spraying bullets. It¡¯s only a matter of time before one of them hits us.

    A crack sounded out, echoing off the walls as the gunfire cut off. Silence reigned for a moment, leaving Olivia with a sourceless ringing in her ears once more. Oh god. She rose to her knees and placed an eye against one of the holes above her, taking a look at the devastated front half of their hideout.

    Several cars had parked in a loose ring around the front door. Several gang members rushed off behind them, heads ducked low, towards wherever Ben had taken his shot. In the center stood what had once been a truck, the same that had caught her eye earlier, with a heavy gun mounted to the back.

    Much like the MHU van, Ben¡¯s rifle had reduced the truck, its occupants, and the man-sized gun mounted to the back into twisted slag and ash. Too late, however, for the entire front of their building, now reduced to ragged holes in drywall and broken glass.

    Ben¡¯s voice cracked to life over the comms, instead of the usual crisp and clean audio. ¡°Alright, my rifle¡¯s real toasty now, gotta-¡± He cut off with a hiss of static.

    Chris shot Amanda a look. ¡°What happened to his comm?¡±

    She consulted something in her helmet. ¡°Fuck, they brought the Lock Corp. gear,¡± shouted Amanda. ¡°I can¡¯t let them get access to what¡¯s left.¡±

    Chris grabbed her by the collar as she broke for her surviving computers, anchoring her in place. A hail of rifle fire overhead brought her back to reality, and she took cover once more.

    ¡°What the fuck is Lock Corp. doing here?¡± she demanded.

    ¡°All of their stuff was in a van. They just moved it.¡±

    ¡°Fuckers,¡± spat Amanda. ¡°Half my shit is gone.¡±

    The shriek of metal, muffled somewhat by distance and a wall, caught her ear. What? Oh.

    ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± said Olivia, cutting off Amanda¡¯s cursing. ¡°I can hear them cutting through the back door.¡±

 29: Monster

    Chapter 29: Monster

    Olivia, Chris, and Amanda found themselves pinned between gang members cutting through the metal doors at the back of their auto-shop turned hideout behind them, and two more groups advancing in front of them. Even with Ben melting their heavy truck mounted gun, truck included, and several of them peeling off to track him down, a good dozen armed men with a motley collection of pistols and rifles approached the torn up and ruined front wall.

    Olivia shook her back and wings as she got up off the ground, dust and debris from the heavy gun¡¯s bullets sliding off her. She shot a glance at Chris and Amanda doing the same, from behind their overturned desk. What do we do? She¡¯d warned them of the impending danger from behind, though with Amanda¡¯s computers and cameras in ruins they had no way of knowing how many were back there. Chris shook his head.

    ¡°Jammer still working?¡± he asked Amanda, keeping his voice low to avoid tipping off their attackers.

    She paused for a moment, gloved fingers of her left hand twitching as if typing something. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯ll lose my wireless connections.¡±

    ¡°Your equipment is dead. Turn it on,¡± he ordered. To Olivia he said, ¡°Five seconds. We¡¯ll fire, you get forward. Get close.¡± He jabbed his hand at an office to Olivia¡¯s left that only had a few bullet holes torn through it. They¡¯d used it to store food before, perhaps the mini fridge had escaped destruction. Behind him, Amanda gripped her pistol tight with her expression hidden behind her helmet.

    OK. Go to place. OK, I can do that. With the thunderous beating of her heart drowning out the typical rustling of people in motion, she tensed her legs and prepared herself to sprint. Five seconds passed slow, so slow that Olivia found herself looking over her shoulder at Chris to make sure she¡¯d heard correctly.

    In that instant, Chris heaved his rifle over the desk and began firing, Amanda following suit a split second later with her pistol. Go. Olivia shut out the deafening sound of gunfire at her back and sprinted towards the shot up office. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted five attackers, halfway through climbing through the broken windows, scurry back in the face of unexpected stiff resistance. A bullet caught one of the five in the leg, sending him to the ground with a strangled cry.

    Olivia barreled through the doorway to the office, finding herself in a room with a huge chunk torn out of the front wall and a mini-fridge with three holes through it in the corner. Crouched low, she headed up towards the wall, near the edge of the broken window. Behind her, she heard Chris¡¯ rifle fall silent as he ran forward. A moment later, Amanda did the same.

    Footsteps, not Chris or Amanda¡¯s, approached under the sound of gunfire from the outside. Olivia poked her head around the corner. The attackers had been pushed back, away from the building and towards their cars scattered around the otherwise empty parking lot. Four men, hunched over much as Olivia had, sprinted towards her, out of view of Amanda and Chris. She pulled back before any could spot her. Wait for them to get close so they don¡¯t shoot me. Stop them from getting to the others. I can do this.

    Her heart pounded once, twice, thrice. A man taking short, ragged breaths entered first, pausing only a moment to look in before vaulting over the jagged glass. One of the shock traps, miraculously still operational, sprang to life. A white bolt of lightning lanced down, catching him mid-jump. He collapsed to the ground, glass embedding itself into his flailing leg. Oh. That was easy. Wait. She heard a curse and several gunshots as the whiff of burnt hair burned its way into her nostrils. Rifle bullets tore through the upper part of the wall where the shock had come from.

    Someone tossed a rock through the broken window. Olivia jumped out of her skin at the unexpected sight, nearly charging out then and there. When no shock answered the thrower, a head poked in above his fallen comrade, this time taking a thorough scan of the interior. After a moment, his eyes came to lock with Olivia¡¯s. She let out a threatening hiss through bared shark teeth.

    ¡°Found it!¡± he called out as he grabbed his fallen friend. ¡°Where are those ¡®nades?¡± The bleeding and unconscious man was pulled back through and out of her sight. Nades? Whatever, they know I¡¯m here now. No more hiding. She pushed off of her hiding place in the corner and prepared herself to take a swing at the others right around the corner.

    With a hiss, Olivia rounded the corner, claws out and ready. Instead of seeing any other attackers ready to climb into the building, she found them beginning the process of retreating back towards their cars with their injured friend carried between two of them. They¡¯re getting away. She vaulted over the broken window and ran in pursuit. A thought at the back of her head brought her to a stop.

    Wait! Listen!

    Olivia¡¯s quarry reached the car line. ¡°He¡¯s got ¡®em. Just keep shooting.¡±

    ¡°There it is!¡±

    ¡°Shoot it!¡±

    I can¡¯t just run in like I always do. There¡¯s fifty feet of open space between me and them. Olivia pulled back to her original position, helped along by several gunshots at her back. The attackers never pushed, instead preferring to keep her at a distance and take shots from afar. Their lack of enthusiasm with the destruction of their heavy gun caught Olivia off guard. Every movement she expected a charge or something awful to happen. Instead, they just kept up with occasional shots.

    Olivia hugged the wall, only peeking around the corner twice to make sure no one was trying to flank her for over a minute. Amanda and Chris kept up sporadic fire with the gang opposite them. A quick movement out of the corner of her eye brought her claws back out, until a familiar scent caught her nose. Ben leapt into Olivia¡¯s room, keeping himself low. A few inaccurate shots chased after him, hitting nothing important.

    His grey metal mask looked up at her. ¡°Rifle¡¯s fucked. Comms fucked. How we doin¡¯?¡± he asked, hunched low to the ground.

    ¡°They backed off. They¡¯re about to get in from the other side though,¡± she replied during a lull in the fire.

    ¡°I got this. Go tell Nomad.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± She slunk back, keeping her wings tucked in tight to keep anyone from shooting them. Once out of immediate danger, she rushed off to where she¡¯d left Chris and Amanda, finding them crouched behind the front wall, much as Olivia and Ben had.

    ¡°Chris!¡± she called out.

    He took a look over his shoulder, then turned into liquid form and flowed back to her. ¡°What?¡± he asked as he popped back into human form with a shiver.

    ¡°Ben has my spot. They¡¯re about to get in from the back,¡± she said. In the distance, muffled between a couple walls, metal shrieked as it was twisted and shorn.

    ¡°Alright. You and me, back door. Ambush.¡± He looked over his shoulder and shouted, ¡°Delta, hold this wall with Skulker.¡± She gave him a curt nod in response.

    Together, Chris and Olivia rushed off to the warehouse in the back. They barreled through the entrance to find themselves face to face with half a dozen armed men crawling through two holes cut into the garage doors on the opposite side of the room. We¡¯re late. One man at the led, currently helping another to his feet, twisted over his shoulder at the sound of their entrance.

    Most of the gunfire from the heavy gun out front hadn¡¯t pieced that far into the building. The lights overhead still worked, and the part of Amanda¡¯s workbench she hadn¡¯t had time to pack up lay untouched. In preparation for an attack from the back, they¡¯d scattered a few overturned desks and tables in a quarter circle, arcing around the garage doors. Chris sprinted for one.

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    ¡°That¡¯s him, Sanchez,¡± he called, pointing out the tan, muscular man staring at them, in old desert camo fatigues and a bandolier of knives across his chest.

    You. You¡¯re the one we¡¯ve been looking for. With a roar she charged, heedless of the two men flanking Sanchez who brought their guns up to bear. The claws of her feet punched into the floor as she ignored the shot that managed to connect to her shoulder. Sanchez finished hauling the man to his feet, who promptly scattered out of Olivia¡¯s way, and drew a knife out of its holding place and flung it in one fluid motion.

    In a split second, something in the back of Olivia¡¯s mind noticed danger. The knife shot forward, far harder and more accurate than his throw should have allowed for. She abandoned her charge, turning to the side as much as her momentum allowed. The knife cut deep into the side of her ribcage instead of her heart. She hissed and reared back.

    Chris, utterly unnoticed with Olivia making a scene, popped up from behind a desk they¡¯d turned on its side in preparation and opened fire, catching one of the men unawares and dropping him. With the gunfire drawing his attention, Olivia resumed her charge towards Sanchez.

    ¡°Boss!¡± called out one of his men as they scattered for cover. Chris helped them along their way with a few more shots.

    Her claws grazed Sanchez¡¯ forearm before he could pull it out of harm¡¯s way, tearing four shallow gashes into his flesh. He whipped out another knife and drew it across his chest, nearly carving into Olivia¡¯s own arm. As she hesitated in the face of danger, he backed away, his free, if injured, arm reaching for a metal ball at his hip.

    Don¡¯t let him get away. Olivia kept pace with Sanchez, taking two wild swings at his chest. She misjudged the distance on her first swing, simply carving into empty air. Her second swing pulled against some source-less resistance as Sanchez pushed himself back and out of range of her claws. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a small figure climb in through one of the holes cut in the doors.

    Sanchez pulled something out of the metal orb as he dropped it to the ground and sprinted away in the same direction as the newcomer.

    ¡°Olivia! Grenade!¡± yelled Chris before she could pursue. What? He waved his arm to the side. Get away? OK. ¡°Down!¡±

    The metal ball exploded as she dove down. Some tiny bits of metal hit her wing, punching straight through the membrane of the wing itself. One hit a bone, breaking it. She let out a scream. Kill him, kill him.

    With another roar and half deaf, she clawed her way back to her feet and charged Sanchez. Her own bed slid along the floor and caught her in the shins. Though she shrugged the blow off, her next step took her onto the bed, which then slid back and pulled her foot out from under her. With a smirk, Sanchez pulled the pin on another grenade and tossed it behind her as she struggled to get her feet back under her. He dove to the side and out of sight.

    Without the time to run, she swatted it away with her tail, sending it skittering across the concrete to the opposite end of the shop. One of Sanchez¡¯ men let out a yell, before the explosion cut him short.

    Chris, now a quarter way across the room behind their makeshift shower, called out, ¡°Olivia!¡± as the echo died down. She bared her teeth in the direction of Sanchez. ¡°Olivia!¡± Listen. Don¡¯t be stupid.

    She tore her attention away from her prey and joined Chris behind the remains of the shower. Even if the curtains wouldn¡¯t stop a bullet, they kept the attackers from seeing and thus aiming at them. They still lay on the ground as several exploratory bullets whizzed overhead.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother using the desks for cover, their rifles punch right through. They¡¯ve got three men, I go right, you go left,¡± Chris ordered under his breath.

    Olivia let out a frustrated hiss. They won¡¯t leave us alone.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked.

    She took a deep breath. Don¡¯t be stupid. ¡°Sorry. OK,¡± she replied as she climbed back to her feet.

    I keep complaining about fighting, then I wind up turning off my brain and getting into fights anyways. A bullet hit her shoulder, breaking her train of thought. She reared back with a hiss. Like that. Fight now, think later.

    ¡°Now.¡±

    Olivia burst out from behind the shower. The repeated grenade explosions had ruined her normal hearing, but she could still smell someone moving to her left. She tracked it until something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

    Sanchez, with no trace of wounds on his skin, flung another grenade at her. She ducked her head and sprinted away from the impact site. The shockwave sent bits of iron digging into the desk she dove behind. Gunfire from Chris sounded off to the right, pulling Sanchez¡¯ attention away before he could throw another grenade.

    A bullet hit her left wing, near the grenade wound as she climbed to her feet. The sudden spike of pain caused her to stagger for a moment, balance fuzzy. She locked her sight on the gunman, a thin man with a shaved head and lazy, hooded eyes who had a perfect firing angle on her, and rushed him.

    He stood his ground with a defiant yell in his throat, firing two more bullets into her chest. She managed to clear the rest of the distance, taking a swing at his head. He ducked, letting her arm pass harmlessly overhead. The butt of his rifle snapped to the knife wound in the side of her chest. She flinched, pulling her arm back to protect herself. With a hiss, she snapped forward with her mouth, coming within an inch of his throat as he ducked back once again. She took a step forward as he tried to bring his rifle back up to fire once more. Her hand came up and caught the body of the rifle, sending a shot somewhere in the ceiling. With her claws digging into the metal and rendering it worthless, she pulled back before he could realize what had happened and release it. Her second swing caught his throat with her claws, nearly tearing his head off.

    As her adversary collapsed to the ground, she spun around to take stock. Chris, or Sanchez, had closed the gap between each other, Sanchez¡¯ last man wheezing on the ground with a bullet in his chest. As Chris took aim with his rifle, Sanchez let out a roar and flung two knives in quick succession at him.

    Chris snapped into liquid form, the knives sliding into his pale blue blob form. He flowed towards Sanchez, crashing into the heavy plastic box Sanchez threw in his way. Chris popped the knives out of his body and snapped back to human form, rifle already raised and aimed in Sanchez¡¯ general direction. Before Chris could pull the trigger the lid of the box flew up, sending his shots wide and Sanchez dove for cover. Another wicked fast knife forced Chris back into his gun-less blob form. Help.

    Olivia let out a roar from across the room. Sanchez, now well trained to listen for that particular danger, spun towards her, knives flashing out only to find empty space instead of a charging feral. Nomad threw out a tendril that caught Sanchez¡¯ leg, pinning him in place as the bulk of Nomad reared up. He caught Sanchez in the head and slammed it into the concrete. The man lay still as Nomad flowed off him and snapped back to human form, a pool of blood spreading from the impact site.

    Olivia stared for a moment at the man she¡¯d just met, now dead on the floor, who¡¯d been trying to kill them, and they had been trying to kill in turn. That¡¯s it? We¡¯re done? Wait. She spun in the direction she¡¯d last heard his gunmen, only to find no one. She heard footsteps slapping against the pavement, retreating to cars in the back.

    Chris, spotting her distant look, shouldered his rifle and leaned against a wall. He poked his head just around, then turned back to her with a smile unmistakable under his bandana. ¡°I think that¡¯s it. They¡¯re running.¡± He double checked as Olivia lumbered over to see for herself. Just as he said, only one empty car, its doors still left wide open, remained in the back lot. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out here in case any come back. You check out front.¡±

    He¡¯s dead, she thought as she walked in a near daze. All these weeks. And he¡¯s dead, just like that. He had a name. Everyone has a name, I guess, but I knew his. It¡¯s that easy to die?

    She found Amanda and Ben pushed back to the relative safety of the building and front offices. The two sides fired potshots at each other from behind cover, Amanda and Ben being only two, and the gang content to keep them busy for their boss. White gunpowder smoke drifted through the air between them. Enough. With neither the time nor the patience for strategy, Olivia rounded a corner and trudged forward, intent on breaking the line or causing a distraction for the others. She braced herself for gunfire that never came. After a few long strides, the gunfire from the gang stopped completely.

    ¡°Fuck this.¡±

    The retreat started slowly, half slipping back as the others at least pretended to keep up cover. A few more steps from Olivia and they abandoned all pretenses, the retreat turning into a mad dash for their remaining intact cars. She stopped, not even past the front door, as the last car peeled out of the front parking lot, tires screeching against asphalt. Amanda lowered her pistol, watching as it turned a corner and vanished.

    ¡°Was that the last of them?¡± she asked Olivia.

    ¡°I think so,¡± replied Olivia. I can¡¯t hear any more shooting. Or shouting.

    ¡°Fuck yeah!¡± exclaimed Ben, jumping up and landing a light punch on Olivia¡¯s shoulder.

    Amanda holstered her gun and picked one of her shock batons up from the ground. ¡°Holy shit, we¡¯re alive. Are you injured?¡±

    Olivia¡¯s response died in her throat as she caught the sound of panicked breathing, light and small from within their hideout. Another one? They sound weird. She stomped over to the source within an old office, Amanda and Ben right behind her, and pulled back an overturned desk.

    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± cried the young woman crouched behind it, holding her hands up in surrender. Olivia blinked at the sight of her shaved head, dark hair only just starting to grow back. Brown eyes locked on to Olivia¡¯s, with a strange mixture of fear and anger. Dull red spots pockmarked her temples and high, prominent cheeks. She¡¯s so little.

 30: Bones

    Chapter 30: Bones

    Miya crawled behind a desk as gunfire went off all around her. Fuck you, Sanchez. I¡¯m not getting shot or ripped in half by a feral for you. The buzzing at the back of her skull, there ever since Sanchez tried to force her to bring his dead wife back to life and nearly summoned a demon, had vanished once she entered the hideout. She summoned a ribbon of magic, coiling it around her hand for a moment before letting it dissipate. OK. No control over me for now. Maybe I can grab a gun in the confusion. If Sanchez wins, maybe I can kill him and figure out something if he doesn¡¯t have a lot of guys left. If the vigilantes win, maybe I can do the same. Or maybe I can cut a deal or something. They had a techie, maybe they can deal with Overlord tech.

    The absence of gunfire broke her train of thought. Am I out of time already? She heard muffled talking, then footsteps approached. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The desk Miya hid behind was lifted up and tossed aside like cardboard.

    ¡°Wait, wait!¡± cried out Miya, holding up her hands in surrender. She found herself staring down three people. Far taller than Miya or the others, the feral stood out with wings and claws. I can see where they got the demon angle from. To her left stood a man in a grinning mask. To her right stood what looked like a somewhat smaller than average riot cop, without the shield. She pointed a pistol at Miya¡¯s chest and asked in a distorted voice, ¡°You one of Sanchez¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± replied Miya, taking pains to keep her hands up and in their sight. ¡°It¡¯s complicated. He¡¯s holding me hostage and dragging me around.¡±

    ¡°Was. He¡¯s dead now,¡± barked the man to the left, his excited words blurring together.

    ¡°Great,¡± said Miya, pumping as much genuine sincerity as she could into a single word.

    The woman let her pistol drop a few inches. The feral moved forward. Don¡¯t eat me. Instead it offered a hand to her up, asking, ¡°Do you have a name?¡±

    Huh. ¡°Just call me Miya.¡± A scaly hand engulfed Miya¡¯s, hauling her to her feet with ease.

    ¡°I¡¯m Delta,¡± said the woman. ¡°That¡¯s Olivia. He¡¯s Skulker.¡± The guy gave her a quick mock salute.

    Miya¡¯s gaze drifted past them, to the shot up and half ruined building beyond. Dying flames licked the side of the truck the vigilantes had somehow managed to slag. Several dead or dying men lay spread out on the ground between the front wall and the wreck. If there were any injured, they had been pulled out by their friends as they retreated. Well, I guess I¡¯m stuck here. The air reeked of residual gunpowder smoke, even though the wind dispersed most of the white smoke.

    ¡°So, there any particular reason we should believe you?¡± asked Skulker.

    Miya looked to Delta and nodded. She must be that techie Overlord wanted. Amanda something. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have anything to do with everything electrical going all wonky here, would you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, why?¡± said Delta after a few seconds of hesitation.

    ¡°Well, Overlord did some experiments with me. I¡¯ve got a kill switch in me that will activate once things return to normal. I¡¯d rather not die.¡±

    Skulker broke into laughter. ¡°Fuck, I hope that ain¡¯t a lie. Be damn stupid of you if it were.¡± Well fuck you too.

    ¡°Oh shit, Overlord? You¡¯re lucky not to be a brain in a box right now,¡± said Delta, not bothering to wait until Skulker finished.

    ¡°I think that¡¯s what they wanted to do originally. Good thing they don¡¯t know much about magic,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°Magic, huh?¡± asked Skulker.

    Miya shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a mage. Overlord wanted a way to control magic, and the best way he¡¯s found so far is to control a mage.¡± The vigilantes remained wary, guns still held at the ready even if not aimed directly at Miya. Please believe me. Please don¡¯t shoot me. I should throw them something else. ¡°Overlord is looking for you two,¡± added Miya. ¡°You dead, and you alive.¡± She pointed to Olivia and Delta in turn.

    The feral tilted her head to the side a few angles in confusion and Delta¡¯s helmet gave no clues as to her expression. We¡¯re all on the same side here. After a few seconds, Miya¡¯s heart pounding in her ears, Delta asked her, ¡°So what do you know about what Overlord did to you? I can¡¯t guarantee I¡¯ll be able to do anything, but anything you can give me will help.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a chip in my brain, I¡¯d rather you not go poking around with that. They told me some knife was set up to ruin my spine, I think. There¡¯s wires hooked up to pain receptors to keep me in line. And there¡¯s some stuff in my hands, to regulate magic.¡±

    ¡°Alright, come with me. If your friends didn¡¯t ruin all my stuff I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±

    Delta led Miya back towards the warehouse where Sanchez and the feral had fought. Olivia followed right behind, looming far over Miya, with Skulker bringing up the rear. A tall blonde man with hints of a beard poking out from the blue bandana covering his lower face watched her entrance with curiosity.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± he asked. Once Delta and Skulker, both talking over each other, introduced them and explained the situation, he studied Miya for a moment and said, ¡°Alright. Delta, help her out. Skulker, keep watch out front in case they come back. Or if the police come around.¡± As the two went to their allotted tasks, Miya heard Chris mutter under his breath, ¡°It¡¯s like herding cats.¡±

    ¡°Fuck, he¡¯s right. I forgot about the cops,¡± grumbled Delta

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to get ready for that,¡± said Nomad.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t thinking about getting into a firefight with the whole MHU, are you?¡± asked Miya, incredulous. Am I going to have to jump ship again?

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± replied Delta with a shake of her head, though she refused to elaborate further. Instead, she asked, ¡°What kind of magic do you do?

    ¡°Bio magic,¡± simplified Miya. ¡°Bones.¡±

    ¡°Bio, that makes this easier.¡± What? How? You¡¯re a techie, not a mage. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got a low power metal detector that won¡¯t heat up the metal inside of you and melt important stuff.¡± Delta tapped something on the side of her helmet and studied Miya for a moment. ¡°Why isn¡¯t this working? Right! The jammer.¡± Delta froze, halfway to a laptop set up on a nearby table. ¡°Lock Corp,¡± she whispered. She spun around and jabbed a finger at Miya.¡±What do you know about them?¡±

    ¡°Lock Corp?¡± asked Miya, hands half raised in surrender again and thoughts scrambling to keep up. They¡¯re that big security company, right? ¡°Sanchez might have mentioned them once or twice but I never saw them or talked to them.¡±

    Nomad asked, ¡°What is this about Lock Corp?¡±

    ¡°If I shut down the jammer I can track down where that Lock Corp guy is. Or maybe it¡¯s a small team. It doesn¡¯t matter, they¡¯re probably still in the area and waiting on Sanchez. Once they figure out their contractor holder is dead they¡¯ll bounce. I need to get to their systems.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll die if you turn that jammer off,¡± Miya pointed out. Please don¡¯t.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Nomad tried to put his foot down, ¡°We¡¯re not fighting a war with Lock Corp.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the plan,¡± insisted Delta. ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill him. I just need his equipment and computers. He¡¯s not going to sit around forever. This is my chance!¡±

    ¡°Amanda!¡± said Olivia, tone full of disappointment.

    Silence hung in the air for a moment, with Delta¡¯s hands right above the keyboard as all eyes bored into her. If I try to stop her, will the others stop me?

    ¡°Fuck,¡± said Delta, shoulders slumping as she withdrew. ¡°You¡¯re right. Let me think of something.¡± She brushed aside some debris and opened a box beneath her desk. Olivia and Miya both craned their necks to look inside, only to see a mass of indecipherable metal parts and insulated wires. Delta pulled out a foot long rod, with several smaller ones jutting out at regular intervals, then paused. ¡°Hey Olivia, can you grab that black and yellow striped box? The one I usually keep under the second desk?¡±

    Olivia nodded and trundled off. Did she just boss around the feral? Miya watched as Delta began wiring several small metal boxes to the base of the metal rod. Once Olivia returned, she rifled through the striped box for a moment before withdrawing what appeared to be a wifi antenna. Fifteen long minutes passed before Delta finally deemed her contraption ready.

    She waved the rod over Miya¡¯s upper body a couple times, pausing a few times over her shoulders and wrists. Delta tapped her helmet as she set the rod aside, saying, ¡°Come on. There, done.¡± She remained quiet for a couple seconds. ¡°All right. I think I can stop it from killing you, but it¡¯s going to hurt.¡± She pulled out a combat knife about as long as her palm.

    Olivia eyed the knife and hesitantly asked, ¡°Amanda, what¡¯s the knife for?¡±

    ¡°I need to get to the implants somehow. Come here.¡± Delta set up a curtain around an old beat up bed on the floor. She tapped a point on Miya¡¯s wrist with a finger. ¡°Biology isn¡¯t my specialty. If I go in through here, will I nick anything important?¡±

    Miya reached for her magic, sending ribbons of magic to examine herself. ¡°That should be good.¡± They repeated this process a few more times, gradually narrowing down their options. The implants inside her felt like rocks in an otherwise living and healthy river, cold and out of place.

    Miya moved quietly off to the side as Delta grabbed some black and red wires and an unidentifiable tool from the desk. ¡°This whole process is going to be something out of a horror movie. And in the interest of full disclosure, it¡¯ll probably kill you.¡±

    Miya nodded, a hard look in her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t have much of a choice. Do it.¡±

    ¡°Lay on your back on the bed. There¡¯s a wire to cut in you. Olivia, hold her down, no matter what.¡±

    Olivia¡¯s eyes widened, and she hesitated. Delta said, ¡°Now. Trust me.¡± This is going to suck, but I¡¯m not exactly drowning in options.

    Miya lay down and felt a sudden shock in her side, knocking her unconscious.

    ***

    She came around with her back on fire. Olivia and Delta were arguing elsewhere in the room.

    Olivia was saying, ¡°I don¡¯t think you should do that without telling her first.¡±

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s over with. If she¡¯d have been conscious there was a good chance something stupid would happen, like her twitching and me cutting something important,¡± replied Delta. That¡¯s her normal voice, isn¡¯t it?

    ¡°I¡¯m still not OK with it.¡± They stopped arguing as Miya groaned and sat upright, hands seeking out where Delta cut the most, near her left shoulder blade. I¡¯ve gotten through worse. The gash on her back was covered by a rough bandage that Miya couldn¡¯t see. Please be clean. She began to reach for magic when everything started hurting again.

    Olivia was beside her, Delta not long after. Miya waved them off. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, just recovering¡± she managed through gritted teeth. Fuck, knife wounds hurt. ¡°How long was I out anyways?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Almost ten minutes,¡± said Delta.

    Oh, that¡¯s not bad. ¡°Did it work?¡±

    ¡°Well, the jammer is off and you¡¯re still breathing.¡±

    Miya blinked. ¡°You turned it on while I was asleep?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I did what I could. If it didn¡¯t work you would have died in your sleep instead of in pain.¡±

    ¡°Thanks?¡±

    The vigilantes had managed to get a little cleaning done in the time Miya was out. Bodies had been lined up near the exit, their feet sticking out below a ragged old blue tarp pinned down with broken bricks. A phone sat on one of Delta¡¯s desks, surrounded by bits of techie equipment. The laptop next to it cycled through pictures. Is that Sanchez¡¯ phone? I saw Jess for a second, there. Skulker was back, helping Olivia sweep up broken masonry, drywall, and discarded bullet casings.

    Nomad approached. He took a knee, getting closer to Miya¡¯s eye level as she sat upright. ¡°Delta, how is that phone cracking going?¡±

    ¡°Almost done. Let me check.¡±

    ¡°Olivia, go help Skulker with some of the bigger pieces of rubble.¡± Once the two of them left, he looked to Miya and said, ¡°You should know that the four of us are wanted right now.¡± He trailed off as Miya started laughing. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°So am I,¡± she replied with a wave of her hand. ¡°Even before all this. That¡¯s not a problem.¡±

    He raised an eyebrow. The bandana still covered his face, though he¡¯d set aside his rifle. ¡°It might be. The cops are on their way, I give them about five more minutes since I called them. Do we need to hide you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not from around here, they won¡¯t know me,¡± she said with a shake of her head.

    ¡°If you say so,¡± he said with a shrug. ¡°Are you good to stand?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± He helped her to her feet.

    Miya kept herself out of the way as the vigilantes prepared for the arrival of the cops, her time with Sanchez giving her ample opportunities to practice. That¡¯s it. Sanchez is dead. I¡¯ve got the crap out of me. Now what? She could hear the sound of approaching sirens. Miya hung back, next to Oliva, as Delta and Chris opened one of the back garage doors.

    Soon enough, three heavy vans rolled up to the backlot. They came to a stop and disgorged dozens of heavily armed and armored MHU officers. They fanned out in a semi-circle around the opened door. Out of the frying pan. A trio of officers marched forward, a heavier man taking the lead. Nomad and Delta, without their face covers and guns, walked down the concrete ramp to meet them. The two groups stopped half a dozen paces away.

    ¡°Bob,¡± Nomad greeted them.

    ¡°Chris,¡± said the lead man, Bob, his voice far frostier. Miya paused for a moment. The tall man to his right looked familiar, but she couldn¡¯t place the face. ¡°I¡¯m shocked you two didn¡¯t skip town entirely.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not traitors,¡± replied Nomad with a shake of his head. Wait, those two are cops too? ¡°In fact, we did our job. Sanchez is dead.¡±

    Bob waved a hand up. Two of the officers marched forward, towards the body Delta indicated. One knelt down, pulling a small camera from a pouch at his hip. The other studied Sanchez¡¯s face for a moment before giving Bob a thumb¡¯s up.

    Nomad continued, calm and steady despite the firepower arrayed against him, ¡°Lehman Construction was in charge of the renovations at HQ. You know, the ones super late and over budget. They were walking right into our building under our noses. You have a bigger problem than us. You have a rat.¡±

    Delta passed him a flash drive. Bob studied her with a critical eye for a moment before taking it. ¡°We¡¯ll have to confirm this.¡±

    ¡°We know.¡±

    ¡°You still have a feral,¡± pointed out the tall man.

    ¡°Jeremiah brings up a good point,¡± said Bob, cocking his head to the side. ¡°Now what? You keep her as a pet? She gets a desk job?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s one of us. She was critical in helping us and I think throwing her into a jail cell would be a mistake on a moral level. As for what¡¯s next, that¡¯s for her to decide, and I trust her judgment. I hope that still means something.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re asking us to take a lot on faith. She¡¯s killed.¡± He¡¯s not wrong. Miya glanced at Olivia next to her. She stood stiff as a board, eyes locked on Bob.

    ¡°You¡¯ve met her yourself. If you don¡¯t push her she wouldn¡¯t hurt a fly.¡±

    ¡°That sounds unstable to me. Dangerous.¡±

    ¡°That was then. Now-¡±

    Bob held up a hand, stopping Nomad. ¡°I¡¯ve heard what you have to say. What does she have to say?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± croaked Olivia as everyone looked to her. You¡¯re not good at talking, are you?

    ¡°Are you a danger to yourself or the people of this city?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone,¡± mumbled Olivia.

    Bob cupped a hand to his ear and said, ¡°Kid, speak up, I¡¯m too old for that whispering shit.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone,¡± she repeated, now louder and steadier. ¡°I don¡¯t know who I am and I want to figure that out. I don¡¯t want to fight.¡± Huh.

    ¡°Marcus wants all your heads,¡± pointed out Jeremiah.

    ¡°Marcus didn¡¯t even bother to be here, instead we did his job,¡± countered Chris, motioning to Sanchez¡¯ body. ¡°We¡¯re not asking for the keys to the city here, we¡¯re asking for a fair shake instead of a cell and six months before a trial even gets considered.¡±

    Bob sighed and motioned to the other officers. ¡°Pack it in, we¡¯re done here. We¡¯ll get these bodies and evidence back to HQ.¡± Once the mass of men got moving, he turned to Chris and the rest and said, ¡°We¡¯ll be keeping in touch. And by that I mean all of you are calling in once a week. We¡¯re not throwing you in the slammer for the moment, but running again will look very bad.¡± Miya suppressed a snort. That¡¯s a paper thin threat right there.

    The vans rumbled to life after a few minutes of packing, driving out one after the other, leaving them alone in the late afternoon with a ruined building. Olivia fidgeted, pressing a knuckle to her ear.

    ¡°You alright?¡± asked Miya as they withdrew back into their building and shut the door. You¡¯d better not go crazy when I¡¯m right next to you. I¡¯ve seen what those claws can do.

    ¡°Ever since the grenade went off my hearing has been weird. And I hear this ringing. It¡¯s not going away. I guess that¡¯s the weird thing I was hearing when they were here.¡±

    Silence reigned for a minute or two.

    ¡°Are you going to stay?¡± asked Olivia. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t really know where to go from here. I want to figure out who I was before. Do you have any plans?¡±Miya considered for a moment. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll stick around for now,¡±  she replied with a shrug. I¡¯m still low on options. Olivia beamed down on her with a smile.

 31: Cinnamon

    Chapter 31: Cinnamon

    Over the next few days, after their final fight with Sanchez and the standoff with the MHU, Olivia and her friends found themselves in a rut. Ben had, thankfully, parked is car well out the line of fire, keeping it safe even as several MHU tow trucks came by to scrape up the ruined or abandoned ones around their safehouse. Ben and Chris made several short supply runs, with Olivia helping to put up tarps over the broken windows in the front or to replace drywall. It might not have been the best home, or even the safest, but their former auto shop was the only place any of them had at the moment. That, and the MHU specifically told them to stay in place for later questioning.

    With the passage of time and the MHU no longer putting out alerts since their escape, Chris and Amanda managed to go unrecognized in the sprawl of Westward City once more. Ben and Miya had always been unknowns, leaving Olivia as the only one hidden away. Amanda and Miya didn¡¯t forget about her when they went for their own supply run for Miya, and Olivia now owned three whole sets of clothes that at least weren¡¯t overly tight as well as short.

    Amanda otherwise kept herself busy, and busy meant frantically darting from one ruined contraption to another, cursing bullets, Sanchez, the concept of pickup trucks, all dust, and curiously the local power company. She ripped devices from the walls or lifted them from a plastic bin with a couple bullet holes through it and placed them one after the other on her workbench, cataloguing the damage.

    Without techie devices to occupy them, Olivia and the others could only work on repairs or rest. The first couple days remained quiet, Miya keeping herself apart from the others, but eventually even she began to go stir crazy.

    ¡°Has anyone heard from Cyrus?¡± asked Olivia, sitting on a folding chair spun around so the backrest wouldn¡¯t dig into her wings. Her tail she kept curled around the chair¡¯s legs and her feet, out of the way. He seemed nice. A little weird, but I am too.

    ¡°Oh yeah, what happened to that guy?¡± asked Ben, balancing a knife on his fingertip. ¡°He gave y¡¯all a head start outta the MHU, right? Ain¡¯t seen him since.¡±

    ¡°Cyrus gave us a pat on the cheek, an encouraging word, and fucked off to leave us fighting an entire gang alone. And half the shit he said still doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± grumbled Chris, opposite their folding table from Olivia. ¡°I¡¯m willing to let that sleeping dog lie.¡±

    Ben nodded as the silent moment stretched on and on. ¡°I¡¯m still bored. Anythin¡¯ else need doin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°What about that tracker?¡± asked Chris. ¡°Could we have Miya take a crack at that?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Miya, leaning back in her chair.

    ¡°One of Overlord¡¯s bots stuck a tracking device in the back of Olivia¡¯s neck,¡± explained Amanda, not looking up from her work. She held a tweezer with some tiny component pinched in the forceps, staring down at a board through a giant magnifying glass the size of her face. ¡°Olivia is made of iron, so I can¡¯t get to it without throwing a lethal amount of electricity at her.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this about iron?¡± asked Miya. ¡°That¡¯s the one thing magic can¡¯t deal with.¡±

    Amanda shook her head, her loose short hair waving around just above her eyes. ¡°Sorry, figure of speech. She¡¯s tough, that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, can do.¡± Miya turned to Olivia and explained, ¡°I¡¯m still recovering, I¡¯ll only really be able to affect bones right now, but I can at least take a look at everything else. Oh, and I¡¯ll need to put my hands on you, like, on the shoulder or arm or something.¡±

    ¡°Um, OK, I guess,¡± Olivia said with a shrug.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t break contact, that would be annoying,¡± said Miya, walking up and placing her hand on Olivia¡¯s forearm. Why did her eyes just turn dark red? She probably needs to concentrate if her eyes get weird. So Olivia sat and waited, trying hard not to feel awkward. And waited. And waited.

    Should I say something? She hasn¡¯t moved. After waiting a couple more moments, she thought, is something wrong? ¡°Hey, Miya? Is everything, you know, alright?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°What the fuck am I looking at?¡± she exclaimed. Olivia cringed as everyone stopped what they were doing. I know, I¡¯m weird.

    ¡°Me?¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡± asked Chris, arms folding across his chest.

    ¡°Maybe?¡± said Miya. That¡¯s not good. At all. ¡°Hey Olivia, do you feel any pain at all right now?¡±

    She considered herself. ¡°No. Why?¡± Everything feels normal. I guess that ringing in my ears is a little annoying. My feet ache, but that¡¯s normal.

    ¡°Cuz I¡¯m seeing five small fractures on what are, hands down, the strongest bones ever. Just ever. Three ribs, a shin bone, and a collar bone. You don¡¯t feel those?¡±

    ¡°No. Should I?¡±

    ¡°What did you do?¡± demanded Miya. ¡°The force to do that should have fucked up a bunch of other things in there.¡±

    ¡°I got shot. Some guy punched me through a wall. I got shot some more. I fought another feral,¡± Olivia listed off.

    Miya stared at her with solid, blood red eyes for a second. ¡°That¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°Can you heal her?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Oh yeah, no problem. This might sting, these bones are so fucking beefy compared to human bones.¡± Olivia suppressed a flinch as five separate bones burned under her skin momentarily, then the feeling vanished. ¡°But that¡¯s not all.¡±

    Oh come on. Miya¡¯s eyes returned to normal, and she broke contact. ¡°So,¡± she trailed off, gaze unfocused and staring off into the distance.

    ¡°Miya, this is kind of important,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°It¡¯s not necessarily bad, I don¡¯t think,¡± she said, returning her attention to them. I¡¯m really not liking how this is sounding. ¡°Medically, she¡¯s fine, so far as I can tell. Give me a second, I¡¯ve got to figure out how to say this.¡± Chris and Olivia watched Miya like hawks.

    Eventually, she said, ¡°So basically Olivia has some sort of passive magic thing going on. I¡¯m not quite sure how it works, it¡¯s a super intricate and complicated weave that she¡¯s running throughout her whole body. Each individual stream is almost insignificant, but there¡¯s intricacy and layers to it. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±

    ¡°You know that?¡± Ben asked Olivia.

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°It would take me forever to figure out exactly how it all works. It¡¯s almost like a second body. I recognized a couple weaves that would help with healing. There¡¯s some beefy lattice in your skin. It¡¯s weird, it looks like it fits in much better on the scales. There¡¯s some crazy intricate stuff I¡¯ve never seen before in her wings.¡± Miya looked at her thoughtfully. I know. I¡¯m super extra weird.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t dangerous at all, is it?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°No, it shouldn¡¯t be,¡± replied Miya with a vigorous shake of her head.

    Ben laughed, ¡°Well, the more you know.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s it then,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Magic. Magic is the reason for,¡± she made a vague motion towards herself as she spoke. ¡°This. Just magic. That¡¯s it.¡± There¡¯s not much I can do about it. I actually thought it was going to be worse. Like I¡¯m programmed to forget everything every year or something stupid.

    ¡°What? No. Magic is why you can get shot dozens of times and keep going,¡± said Miya. ¡°Powers and magic are not mutually exclusive. There are certain bits of magic that affect only powers. Some powers revolve only around magic. There¡¯s the chance I could trigger, though I doubt it at this point, but I could still do what I do now, provided the power isn¡¯t a null power specific to magic.¡±

    ¡°That seems like too much,¡± said Olivia. Chris snorted. Come on. I¡¯m not that strong. Am I?

    ¡°Why? It¡¯s just magic. They¡¯re just powers. Don¡¯t get me wrong, there are scientists who spend their whole lives trying to figure this stuff out with nothing to show for it. But they¡¯re just things that happen. They¡¯ve always happened,¡± said Miya. ¡°Anyways, everything else seemed fine.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem that shocked by this,¡± observed Chris.

    ¡°Actually, now that I¡¯ve seen it, I could probably do something similar to myself, but it would take, like, all my concentration. As in, meditate for an hour beforehand, and do nothing else meanwhile kind of concentration.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Thank you, Miya,¡± said Chris. Olivia mumbled something similar. He asked Olivia, ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°I guess.¡± His lips thinned as he looked at her skeptically. ¡°Well, it doesn¡¯t really change anything,¡± she explained. ¡°It¡¯s just another thing, you know?¡± I¡¯m magic, I guess, because I¡¯m not weird enough as it is.

    Chris¡¯ neck stiffened and rocked back a few degrees. ¡°Wait, Miya, the tracker.¡±

    ¡°Shit, that¡¯s right!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°I got distracted. Come here.¡± She waved Olivia over again. Her eyes turned deep red as she resumed her magical examination and her gaze shifted up to the base of Olivia¡¯s neck. Now without distraction, it only took her a few moments to return to normal and report, ¡°This little thing is coated in iron. I won¡¯t be able to do anything about it. Why is there a mage proof tracker in your neck?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem normal. In fact, why does an Overlord robot have a mage tracker thing in the first place?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°You could say that again. What exactly happened?¡±

    Chris and Miya both looked to Olivia. ¡°Oh, um, I was fighting a robot when we were attacking that construction place.¡± Miya grimaced in recognition. ¡°It slashed me with a knife a couple times, then hit me in the back of the neck with something.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°A knife? That hurt you?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°An iron knife would do that. Even steel,¡± said Miya.

    Ben burst into laughter. ¡°Good thing you keep gettin¡¯ hit with lead.¡±

    Chris considered for a moment. ¡°The robot knew about the magic.¡±

    ¡°How? It¡¯s a robot. Most people can¡¯t even see magic,¡± pointed out Miya.

    ¡°The red stuff?¡± asked Olivia, head tilted a few degrees to the side. It¡¯s right there.

    Miya, Ben, and Chris froze for a moment in shock. Did I say something wrong? ¡°Is she a mage?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°I have no idea,¡± replied Miya. She held her hands out a few inches apart towards Olivia. ¡°Tell me what you see.¡± Dark red coils twisted and writhed between her palms, most hair thin, some up to an inch thick. Whenever one arced too far, it began to dissipate into the air without a trace. The eldritch energy twisted into impossible shapes, sometimes reminding Olivia of patterns in the clouds, other times seeming to draw her vision to a point not quite there, not quite visible.

    ¡°A bunch of dark red string,¡± said Olivia. It looked really cool though!

    With an amused snort, Miya said, ¡°Yeah. She¡¯s a mage.¡±

    ¡°A mage with an Overlord tracker in her.¡±

    ¡°They might come for her,¡± pointed out Amanda.

    ¡°They just did,¡± responded Miya. ¡°A bot came to Sanchez and told them where you were. Like I said, they wanted Olivia and Amanda. If Sanchez is all he¡¯s got, we might have some time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll work on blocking the signal. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard since we have some time.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we take a fuckin¡¯ load off! Relax, grab some drinks, initiate ¡®liv¡¯ into American culture!¡± announced Ben. At the hesitant look she gave him he jabbed a finger at her and added, ¡°Or we sit here, bored out of our skulls and sleepin¡¯ the hours away cuz we¡¯re all lunatics who don¡¯t know how to function without someone actively tryin¡¯ to kill us. I dunno about you but movies sound way better.¡±

    ¡°Ben, what movies?¡± asked Chris, a look of weary resignation on his face. He flipped his phone around in one hand, letting the long side slap into his palm before twirling it again with a flick of his wrist. ¡°You are not going to ruin movies for her by showing her Silence of the Lambs or Rocky Horror Picture Show or something like that.¡± I kind of get the horror one, but what¡¯s wrong with lambs?

    ¡°Nah, we¡¯ll start with the basics. Blazing Saddles, cuz I refuse to respect the comedic opinion of someone who ain¡¯t at least watched it. Star Wars, one of the old James Bonds, we got options.¡± Olivia sighed. I didn¡¯t really understand most of that. Because of course not.

    ¡°Where would we watch the movies? We don¡¯t have a TV,¡± pointed out Olivia.

    ¡°Amanda,¡± said Ben, ¡°has got that giant monitor thingy that isn¡¯t quite the size of a TV still intact, an¡¯ a computer to play ¡®em on. I got some video streamin¡¯ service thingy, Amanda¡¯s leechin¡¯ off of free internet from somewhere, an¡¯ if I ain¡¯t got it we can just pirate ¡®em or somethin¡¯.¡±

    Chris and Miya shrugged simultaneously. ¡°Sure, why not?¡±

    What about pirates? ¡°Sure, I guess.¡± Olivia watched warily as Ben practically bounced with excitement as he spoke. I guess movies are better than sitting in here doing nothing. Or worrying.

    ¡°Alright!¡± said Ben, grabbing his car keys. ¡°I¡¯ll grab the drinks, Amanda gets the movies ready an¡¯ picks the first one.¡± She looked up at him over her work and glared, though she did set it aside and roll her chair over to one of her intact computers.

    Chris jumped up as his phone rang. Nope, I¡¯m not listening. Olivia began tapping her claws against the plastic tabletop, to the rhythm of a song she¡¯d once overheard on the radio. Without bothering to get outside, he only got halfway to the ruined wall before answering, ¡°Alice, you got my message! It¡¯s so good to hear you.¡± He stopped as if slamming into a solid brick wall.

    They all watched; they couldn¡¯t help it. The quiet, intensely private man had never really spoken about much outside of their immediate work. Amanda and Miya exchanged looks as they listened to one side of a conversation. What¡¯s going on? Is it something bad?

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Communicate? I gave you a call as soon as I could!¡±

    ¡°And then people were trying to kill us.¡±

    ¡°Me!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m sure he did. Marcus is full of shit.¡±

    ¡°Warrant? The MHU just walked away. How is there still¡­¡±

    Silence reigned for a moment. The muffled talking on the other end of the phone Olivia desperately tried to avoid listening to cut off, leaving Chris standing with a quiet cell phone.

    Ben gave him an uncertain half smile as he edged past him, only one corner of his mouth curling up. ¡°I¡¯ll grab some stiffer drinks then. Be back in a few.¡±

    ***

    Over the next four hours, the group plowed through two movies and started on their third, along with nearly a dozen beers. They also made good progress on the three bottles of liquor. Olivia took one sniff of alcohol and kept herself to the popcorn. It might not have been made of meat, but salt and butter couldn¡¯t go wrong, even if the kernels kept getting caught between her shark teeth. Miya, still weary after her impromptu surgery and keeping herself somewhat apart from the others, called it quits first. She burrowed under a blanket, gripped a pillow tight, and passed out after the second movie, a sci-fi flick even Olivia understood.

    She sat beside Chris, who¡¯d allowed himself to be guided back to the table by Amanda and herself. Listless eyes only partially watched the screen, and the whole atmosphere seemed far more subdued than Ben had started with. Ben, at least, cut Chris off of liquor after the first few shots, keeping him to beer instead. One time he slipped Chris water, who didn¡¯t seem to notice.

    ¡°What am I going to do?¡± Chris mumbled to himself, his first words beyond asking for another drink.

    Olivia rested a wing unnoticed on his opposite shoulder. I don¡¯t know what to say. I never know what to say. It¡¯s not about me, though.

    ¡°Man exists for man,¡± he said, each slurred word deliberately chosen. He rambled on, far less precise, ¡°I guess I couldn¡¯t¡­¡± he trailed off, eyes searching the blank wall above the screen for the word he was missing. ¡°I couldn¡¯t.¡±

    Olivia said, ¡°You could.¡± Whatever it is. ¡°We¡¯re here for you.¡±

    ¡°So, what does it mean, then? I¡¯m not good enough?¡±

    ¡°Nah, mean¡¯s you¡¯ll get ¡®em next time,¡± encouraged Ben. ¡°She ain¡¯t worth it if she¡¯ll dump you over that.¡±

    A soft snore caught Olivia¡¯s ear. She and Ben turned to find Chris lying passed out over the table, a half empty glass of water in his hand. She froze, uncertain. Is he OK? He¡¯s still breathing. Should I wake him up?

    Amanda caught her eye and shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, if you¡¯re done, I¡¯ll keep an eye on him.¡±

    ¡°Is he OK?¡± asked Olivia softly.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine, a guy his size can take plenty more alcohol. He¡¯s just tired.¡±

    ¡°No, well, that¡¯s good, but I mean, what about everything else?¡±

    Amanda frowned. ¡°Breakups can be rough. I can¡¯t say I knew much about him and Alice when we were working together at the MHU, but it¡¯s going to be something he¡¯ll have to work through. Don¡¯t hover over him too much, OK?¡±

    ¡°OK. But, I don¡¯t know, it seems like we should do something more. Right?¡±

    ¡°I get it. We are our relationships, good and bad. Girlfriend, coworker, father.¡± Olivia¡¯s brow furrowed as she caught a tense inflection on the last word. ¡°Breaking something like that will take time to heal, no matter what you or I do.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± Olivia repeated, sparing Chris one final glance.

    She finished off her bag of popcorn and excused herself, heading to the roof. Below her, Ben¡¯s new car hummed to life and drove off as she sat down on the edge of the roof, facing west.

    I guess that¡¯s it. That Lock Corp. guy got away from Amanda yesterday. She gets angry whenever they come up. Chris lost his girlfriend and his job. Miya is free of those Overlord things. I¡¯m a mage, I guess. I don¡¯t know what that means, but cool, why not? And Ben is still Ben. He¡¯s always kind of just been hanging around. Overlord is still out there. Cyrus is still out there. But neither of them are here right now.

    A few minutes later the car returned, and Ben climbed the ladder to join her. He flopped down next to her on the roof¡¯s edge, beer and donut box precariously clutched in one hand.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she greeted him with a small wave.

    A whiff of something sweet caught her nose. Ben grinned as he tracked her gaze. He set down the box between them and opened it, revealing half a dozen cinnamon rolls covered in donut glaze. ¡°Hey! Back again, huh? Figured you could use some thinkin¡¯ fuel.¡±

    They each took a roll and settled into amicable silence. The low buzz of the city around them drowned out the ringing in her ears and the chewing, though the two of them were too lost in thought to be in any rush. Cinnamon! We should get these all the time.

    Ben waited, his roll only partially eaten, for Olivia to finish her own before starting, ¡°What brings you¡­¡± She paused, half a second roll already in her mouth as he asked his question. ¡°Never mind,¡± he said with a grin.

    With another hasty bite, she finished her roll and cleared her throat. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. What were you asking?¡±

    ¡°What brings you up here again? No need to worry, ain¡¯t got anyone huntin¡¯ you now.¡±

    She pointed west with a clawed finger. The sun dipped behind the green and brown mountains, the occasional dark blue cloud breaking up the orange sky. ¡°Just watching the sunset, I guess. I¡¯ve noticed it, but never really paid attention to it before.¡±

    Ben nodded and took a sip of his beer. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Am I weird for liking this? It¡¯s all colorful instead of concrete. I guess neon signs and traffic lights are colorful, but those don¡¯t count.

    He raised an eyebrow. After a silent moment he said, ¡°I half expected a sorry there.¡± I¡¯m sorry? I don¡¯t say that that much. ¡°Ignore what I said. You got somethin¡¯ to say, say it. What do you think?¡± he asked with a wave of his hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty, I guess.¡± I have an amazing way with words, don¡¯t I? I can sound completely and totally stupid no matter what.

    ¡°You guess?¡± he prodded.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a fan, but to each their own.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Not a fan?¡± asked Olivia. They¡¯re mountains. Do mountains have fans?

    ¡°Nature shit, there¡¯s no spark, you know? It¡¯s just nature doin¡¯ what it does. There¡¯s no brain behind it. A book, someone had ideas, put those down into words, an¡¯ other people read it. A paintin¡¯, someone saw somethin¡¯ either in the real world or in their mind, an¡¯ painted that into reality. A cathedral, enough people believed enough to pay for the whole thing, put in the labor, engineer the thing. A canyon, with all the pretty layers of earth, is just a hole dug by a river. Only pretty cuz we say so, you know?¡±

    Olivia digested this in silence. That kind of makes sense, I guess. I¡¯ve never had a discussion on aesthetics before. And how do I remember a word like aesthetics? She sighed. I know, I¡¯m weird.

    Ben continued after a while, ¡°Don¡¯t take my word as gospel. That¡¯s my own opinion, you gotta come up your own. There¡¯s a lot of cool shit in the world, an¡¯ you should go into it with an open mind if you want it to be worthwhile. We might disagree on shit, that¡¯s OK.¡±

    Olivia returned her attention to the mountains, with the sun a fading orange smudge behind them. The air ever so gradually cooled. Ben threw his head back, finishing off his beer. He tossed the bottle into the street. The glass shattered, the shards to join the rest of the random trash accumulated on the edges of the road.

    ¡°Whatcha out here for, anyway? There¡¯s a sunset every day. You¡¯re kinda avoidin¡¯ everyone with this,¡± he asked.

    ¡°I just wanted to clear my head, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Somethin¡¯ on your mind?¡± he prodded once more.

    She sighed, repressing the initial urge to say no as her tail curled inward. Remember what Amanda said. It took her a minute to gather her thoughts, rather than rush them out in her traditional stumbling manner.

    ¡°I noticed something.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± he asked, for once not grinning or threatening one.

    ¡°I¡¯m not hungry. I mean, I¡¯m still kind of hungry,¡± she hastily added after he fixed her with a look, both well aware of the flecks of sugar blending into the dark green scales on her hand. ¡°But I haven¡¯t been thinking about it all the time. My stomach doesn¡¯t hurt. And I have a bed, a real bed and blanket instead of some old couch. I have a name.¡±

    As she choked to a stop, he pointed out, ¡°You had a name when I first me you.¡±

    She took a shaky breath. It¡¯s weird, saying it all out loud. ¡°Yeah, but no one knew it. No one said it.¡±

    Man exists for man. Doesn¡¯t that go both ways?

    ¡°That other feral, the one we found in the Arena, just seemed wrong. That could have been me. Like, had anything changed or been different, I¡¯d have been like that. It would have been so easy for that to happen. I don¡¯t want that, but I don¡¯t really know what I want to be. I mean, I know I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not fully human anymore, but still.¡±

    ¡°That don¡¯t matter too much. We got time, we¡¯ll figure out who you were.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I still don¡¯t know who I was but¡­¡± she agreed, trailing off and searching for the words once more. ¡°It matters, but I know I¡¯ll make it to the next day even without knowing. Does that make any sense? Like that magic stuff. I didn¡¯t know that before, but there¡¯s nothing I can really do about it. But I¡¯ll be OK. And I know I¡¯ll be OK.¡±

    Ben shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t answer all your questions. That¡¯s your own thing. But however you wanna go forward, the others care about you. You know that, right?¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah. I do too. Care. About them. Too. Yeah.¡± Stupid, stupid, stupid. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I guess there¡¯s always the possibility that I just stop, you know¡± she mused out loud, almost detached. The city, so vast from their small rooftop, roared ever onward. ¡°Just something goes wrong because biology or whatever, and I just stop. Because I¡¯m, you know-¡±

    He cut her off, bringing her back to herself. ¡°Don¡¯t finish that.¡± He sighed and asked, ¡°Olivia?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Do you need a hug?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m OK.¡± Sorry, I¡¯m just being weird.

    ¡°Olivia,¡± he repeated.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Do you want a hug?¡± Her brain froze, unable to come up with a response. Ben laughed. ¡°Come here, you.¡± He wrapped an arm around her waist, ignoring the donut box between them.

    After a minute, Olivia broke the silence. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered. Together, they watched an orange sun set behind a blue shadowed mountain range.

 Epilogue: Sand Box

    E: Sand Box

    <hr>

    The Sahara stretched on below Cyrus, an endless palette of browns and yellows swirling together. Eventually he would hit the Mediterranean, though he had no intention of making it that far. Though, would there be German steamships on those seas, preparing to invade Greece and North Africa, in dire need of a sudden storm to sink them? He blinked and shook his head, trusting the warning feeling in his gut as his mind wandered. His bubble of air, condensed to breathability even scraping the upper reaches of the atmosphere, cut through the early morning sky. Cyrus caught sight of a certain rock formation scoured by the winds and began his descent.

    Cyrus. The name, one of his few intact long-term memories. Not his birth name, even that was lost to time, but a sign of respect. The man had broadened his world, irrevocably. The memory of his mother tongue slipped from his mind, the village turned city he had protected as a god for centuries returned to the dust, the faces blended together over and over and over, but the name stayed. The original would have known what to do, but all current Cyrus was left with was little else but an uplifting feeling, utterly devoid of details.

    A threat, a dagger at the heart of man lay buried West, where he had just fled. The timing could not have been worse. The human mind could only hold so much, before the memories spilled over like an overflowing water jug filled by a greedy child. Soon it would slip from his grasp entirely and break upon the ground. Two hundred years, give or take. The memories, the count of years, were imperfect, but twenty-five repetitions of the process left its mark upon his psyche.

    He landed deep in the Sahara, in the hard desert near no possible caravan routes. He had once saved an entire camel train of hundreds of pilgrims, flying night and day for a week to ferry them as much water as he could carry. Had that been yesterday or centuries? Regardless, this place held no real significance to anyone, no reason to visit, no reason to make an arduous climb up a cliff face, no reason to visit the cave at the top with a handful of creature comforts hardened by the dry heat against, though by no means immune to, the passage of time.

    A century of dust coated the cave, save for a well-worn box beside a desk. He cleared the dust from the room with a thought and unlatched the carved lid. Within lay a thick, leather-bound journal. He opened it and leafed through the pages. He didn¡¯t bother to read and absorb, it would be lost soon anyways. The journal would be for later, to read and interpret with fresh eyes.

    He eyed the once rich rug in the center of the only true room of the cave, nearly returned to dust as all things did. The Chinese merchant who sold it might have been a dour man, made more so by the unfamiliar and unpleasant jungle climate of Bengal he found himself posted in for one of the Ming trade fleets, but his wife? The broad nosed woman with an easy and genuine smile, who viewed everything as an adventure worth savoring, even talks with a lowly Sultanate official such as Cyrus. Who knew how much of that merchant¡¯s success stemmed from her charm and insight?

    The howl of wind, naturally occurring, outside the cave brought him back to the present. Cyrus scrawled down all he could remember, all he could muster, of his plans and goals of the previous five years since he¡¯d last visited his old haunt. There, of course, was no guarantee he could remember the language in which he wrote when he reached the other side, but the invention of writing had helped him immensely in the previous millennia, even if it took time to decipher.

    With his task complete, he reclined on a spartan bed, little more than a few extra blankets over a slab of stone. The darkness of sleep took hold, stilling his writhing mind. Perhaps the night would bring recovery. Perhaps it would be a week.

    ***

    Cyrus awoke with a splitting headache, in a claustrophobic cavern of stone. He lashed out instinctively at the unfamiliar environment, splitting the rock wall with a spear of air. His eyes took a moment of focus fully on the innocent red sandstone, and a few pebbles fell from the ceiling and bounced off of the rug below. The rug had some significance, that was obvious, but he could not recall where it came from. The ancient thing would certainly need replacing, however, faded and threadbare as it was.

    This confusion, too, would pass, as all things did. He would heal, as he did all things. Grievous injuries closed within moments, entire removed limbs would regenerate. Whatever force was acting on him, granting him his powers, it would brook no exceptions. Even breaks in his mind, like the one upcoming, would be smoothed over. Devices meant to keep him constantly regenerating had been simply burned from his body, ceasing to function within minutes of the mad techie hooking him up.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Was he still human? Perhaps. The question occurred to him often in his lower points. But Cyrus lived, he loved, cried, and laughed. Leadership centuries ago had humbled him, badly, despite all of his power. If he could not lead, how could he set himself above others? So he lived as any other man, returning to this place whenever the memories grew too great. Perhaps this would be a waste of an extraordinary life. Perhaps a new calling would reveal itself to him in his wanderings. Perhaps.

    ***

    It took him another full day for his full mental faculties to return, and another two to fully recall and interpret the contents of his journal. There were gaps, that he knew. Whatever cover story he had at the MHU he would never be able to maintain again for more than a few seconds of questioning. He could certainly lie, but those lies would almost never match up with whatever he had said on record before.

    Cyrus sat cross legged at the base of the rock formation as the sun set and the night cooled, meditating with a newly cleared mind. He refused to break his inner peace, even as the sounds of helicopter blades approached. The trio approached him from across the valley, in full charcoal grey suits and red ties despite being in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He steadfastly ignored them, gaze fixed on the horizon in the distance until a figure stood directly in front of him.

    ¡°Agent Smith,¡± said the leading woman, with the most generic American accent possible, holding an official looking badge up for a brief moment before whisking it away into a breast pocket.

    ¡°What department would you happen to work for?¡± he asked, an unwilling smile playing on the corner of Cyrus¡¯ lips.

    ¡°A great question. We have some questions for you as well.¡±

    He held up a hand, interrupting her. ¡°You are not the first to try to ambush me here. Nor the first to attempt to confuse me. It never ends well.¡±

    ¡°If we were here for a fight with a man who controls air, we wouldn¡¯t have taken a helicopter here,¡± she said, her confident smile never wavering. ¡°And you don¡¯t seem too confused. It¡¯s been almost a week since that power nap you took. I can¡¯t imagine that¡¯s a coincidence on our part.¡±

    He conceded the point with a nod.

    ¡°Of course we have an old file on you, but we certainly weren¡¯t expecting you to break cover so spectacularly. We¡¯ll be needing to go through the Westward MHU with a fine-tooth comb when all of this is said and done.¡±

    ¡°What is it you are here for?¡± he asked, growing weary of beating around the bush.

    ¡°I have some questions for you about Overlord.¡±

    Both eyes now gave her his full attention. ¡°Such as?¡±

    ¡°Your own interest in him, for starters.¡±

    ¡°He is a grave threat to all humans.¡±

    ¡°Humans? He was a Yugoslav general and a techie. Not exactly a Siberian level threat.¡±

    ¡°Ah, ¡®was¡¯. You already know that his horizons have since expanded. What he plans would not leave a humanity worthy of the name.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    He humored her. ¡°Slavery. He would call it something else. Man freed of the shackles of flesh. And what a wonderful tale he would spin, of immortal beings striding the world like steel colossi. Of course, only he holds the key. If only we trust him and turn a blind eye to all those who would not fit this vision of his.¡±

    ¡°You have a poetic way with words,¡± she complimented him. He replied with a smile just as false.

    ¡°You knew this already,¡± he said.

    She placed one hand on her hip. Her two companions remained utterly still and silent throughout the whole conversation, one never taking his eyes off of Cyrus, the other never ceasing his scan of the perimeter. ¡°Your actions in Westward have left the Department in quite a pickle. We have our hands full with Overlord at the moment, we¡¯d rather not put another super on our short list.¡±

    ¡°I killed no one, and harmed few,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°You placed several agents at risk at MHU headquarters, even if you killed no one,¡± she replied, smile vanishing. ¡°The Department is very curious about that coincidence.¡±

    ¡°How could I have known? I don¡¯t even know which department you work for.¡±

    ¡°You are a several thousand-year-old super with a web of contacts, resources, and experiences to rival an entire government agency,¡± she pointed out.

    He paused, considering his next words carefully. ¡°Overlord has, over the last several years, begun creating and leveraging contacts across the underworld within the United States. Sanchez was the most relevant kingpin in Westward City.¡±

    ¡°We were aware. He¡¯s dead now. Killed by a couple supers you had contact with. Another coincidence?¡±

    ¡°Oh? That was fast. Not a coincidence,¡± he said with a shake of his head. ¡°I encouraged the young ones to investigate and, if possible, to capture or eliminate him.¡±

    ¡°Your young ones are suspect as well.¡±

    Cyrus smiled,as a puzzle piece fell into place. ¡°Then I will give you two gifts, instead of the one I was planning on. One, that your agents may not be as loyal as you believe them to be. Another is a name I suggest you begin investigating. Lock Corp, specifically the branch under Pierre Lafitte, has begun providing security for several unorthodox archaeological excavations throughout the Middle East. I stumbled upon one that was personal to me a few years ago.¡±

    ¡°And how do we corroborate any of this?¡±

    ¡°That is not my problem.¡±

    She fixed him with a look, no doubt weighing how much further to push. ¡°We¡¯ll keep in touch.¡± With another toothy smile, she spun on her heels and began a brisk walk back to the helicopter. He watched and waited until it vanished over the horizon.

    Perhaps the men in grey would fulfill their goal and Cyrus would be worried for nothing. Perhaps the seeds he had planted in Westward and elsewhere would bear fruit and Overlord would be stymied. Perhaps the Siberians would break through the Beijing line and render everything moot. Perhaps.

 Down South: Homestead

    Down South

    Chapter 1: Homestead

    <hr>

    Thin air howled past Olivia¡¯s ears. Eddies buffeted against the bottom of her outstretched wings as the glow of the false dawn loomed over the plains to the East. She filled her lungs to capacity, yet still felt short of breath from exertion of keeping herself aloft. So, this is what they meant when they were talking about altitude, she thought to herself with a shiver. Mountains, so imposing from the ground, appeared as wrinkles in the fabric of the earth below her.

    Her experiments in flight helped kill the time over the past month. The others drifted off, finding jobs or hobbies during the daytime when she kept hidden and asleep, leaving her with nights filled with nothing to do. The golden plains to the East quickly became boring, but the Western mountains held a variety of forests, terrain, and towns, even if only viewed from on high. She sometimes even spotted hikers at some ungodly early hour, getting a head start on some mountain or another.

    Olivia drifted downwards, her brief frigid time at high altitude at an end, as she pulled a wide U turn and headed back towards the same repurposed auto-shop she had called home for over half of her current memory. The lights of Westward City drew closer and closer, a patchwork quilt spread out over the plains and foothills. She adjusted her course by a few degrees, going by the sight of a run down and abandoned factory, its three cool and empty smokestacks jutting into the air acting as a convenient landmark.

    Why is so much abandoned? There are tons of people in the city. I get that we want to be out of the way, but why do these places even exist in the first place? ¡°Hey, Amanda?¡± Olivia asked over the comm on her collar, taking the chance that she, at least, might be awake. She only managed to catch Chris or Miya as they settled down for the night and she woke up, or vice versa, but Amanda worked all hours. And then slept all hours as the lack of sleep caught up to her.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± responded Amanda after a minute, with little to no crackle in the earbud.

    ¡°Why is so much stuff in this city abandoned or something?¡± I think Ben mentioned a shantytown, too.

    ¡°The economy crashed hard a couple years ago. It happens every decade or so,¡± she replied, as if that answered everything.

    ¡°But where did the people go?¡±

    ¡°Moved and found work somewhere else. Died. Toughed it out in the shantytown until things turn around again,¡± Amanda listed off.

    ¡°Every decade?¡± replied Olivia with a frown. She pulled up her wings to catch more air and bleed off speed as she approached the shop. ¡°That seems like a lot to move in and out. Or frequent. Whatever, you know what I mean.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I got you. People like to blame supers for that. A great, unsustainable growth fueled by good people with good intentions, followed by a hard crash as reality catches up. Then new guys take over. It happens everywhere. Hell, if you get out of the US things are much worse right now.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I thought things would be better if people had superpowers.¡±

    Amanda let out a quick laugh. ¡°What, you think powers don¡¯t make you human? People are still heroic, greedy, selfless, murderous, and universally operate with a complete disregard to logic, even with powers. Powers only let people do whatever it is they do better.¡±

    Olivia remained silent for a moment. ¡°You guys make it kind of hard to maintain faith in humanity.¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Amanda sounded amused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. People seem awful when you put it like that.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t hear the part where I said people are heroic and selfless as well, did you? Humans would have wiped themselves out if there wasn¡¯t any of that.¡± I guess. The silence stretched on for a moment, before Amanda groaned, ¡°Oh god its almost the morning already. Are you coming back soon?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m nearly there. See you in a few minutes.¡±

    Olivia landed at the back of the shop with its brand-new garage doors. Chris had taken it as a personal project to repair as much of the damage from Sanchez¡¯s assault as he could, in between his shifts as a handyman and wrestling with the MHU. The new windows out front kept the cool evening drafts out much better than the tarps they¡¯d taped up in the immediate aftermath. I don¡¯t miss that crinkling and fluttering when I¡¯m trying to sleep, that¡¯s for sure. She hooked the key to the back door out of one of her cavernous pockets with a claw and headed inside.

    As usual, there was no one awake to greet her but Amanda. Ben would if he drew the short straw and worked an early morning shift busing tables at a local diner, but she could hear him softly breathing behind his curtained off ¡°room.¡± Amanda looked over her shoulder and gave her a wave.

    Olivia smiled as she approached, looking over Amanda¡¯s shoulder at some incomprehensible gadget. ¡°So, what are you working on?¡± she asked, keeping her voice low to let the others sleep in peace. She didn¡¯t bother to ask who it was for. Amanda kept the clients she tinkered for close to the chest, though they clearly had money and didn¡¯t ask questions.

    ¡°Right now, I¡¯m working on glasses for thermal vision,¡± replied Amanda. She brushed aside a few empty cups of instant noodles, pulled out a plastic bin from a shelf to her side, and presented a pair of thick sunglasses to Olivia. A plastic case entwined the frame. ¡°Try these on, they might be a little small. I¡¯ve been meaning to test them on someone other than me. We¡¯ll see how it works with your vision.¡± Olivia took them and put them on, making everything darker and not much else. ¡°Now there¡¯s a button on the frame, near the left lens. Press it.¡±

    Olivia did so, and her left eye suddenly took in an entirely different picture. She saw the building, with several human shaped orange and yellow blobs adding color to the otherwise grainy grey picture. ¡°Whoa.¡± OK, so thermal is heat. So it''s heat vision. Neat!

    ¡°Everything looks OK? Is this what you¡¯re seeing with your left eye?¡± With a couple clicks, Amanda brought up a window displaying exactly what Olivia saw.

    ¡°That looks like it,¡± announced Olivia.

    ¡°Great! Actually, you¡¯re right eye dominant, right?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Um¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you right or left-handed? It should be the same.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Then yes, right-handed. And eyed, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Good. Chris is a leftie, I forgot about them when I was making that prototype. I¡¯ve got to add the functionality to both sides.¡± Olivia smiled and nodded as she handed the glasses back to Amanda. The technical details flew right over her head, but Amanda was happy and chatting instead of frowning at a computer, and that was good enough for her.

    ***

    They sat around eating breakfast, or dinner in Olivia¡¯s case, that morning when Chris said, ¡°We¡¯re going to have to figure out what we¡¯re going to do now.¡±

    Miya grunted, glaring through half-opened eyes, ¡°Can¡¯t this wait? I¡¯m still booting up.¡± She is not a morning person.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Olivia perched at the edge of the sturdiest folding chair they had and munched on a ham and cheese sandwich, if an entire ham steak with a single piece of cheese and two small pieces of bread to keep her hands clean could be called a sandwich. She rested a wing on Miya¡¯s shoulder as she stomped over to join her at the table, a cup of coffee clutched tight in her hands. Chris, across from the two of them, ducked as Amanda tossed a muffin back at Ben with unnecessary force. The grin across Ben¡¯s face never wavered, even if the muffin tagged him square in the nose with a crinkle of plastic wrapping. All is right in the world.

    ¡°No. I want to get this out of the way before everyone wanders off,¡± said Chris. He¡¯d been dead silent for three days after his breakup but had finally worked back up to his normal taciturn self. He started shaving again last week. That blonde beard of his was almost clear, that was weird looking.

    ¡°Whash thr ou alk bou?¡± asked Ben around a mouthful muffin. Ew. Come on. I saw flecks of¡­ gahhh. No.

    ¡°Want to try that again?¡± asked Chris.

    Ben nodded as he swallowed. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, much clearer. ¡°What¡¯s there to talk about?¡±

    ¡°Where everyone is living. I¡¯m guessing Olivia is staying here for the long haul, along with you, Miya, if you¡¯re sticking around.¡± Wait, we¡¯re all sticking together, right? Why would someone live somewhere else?

    ¡°Trying to get rid of me?¡± asked Miya with an arched eyebrow. What? No.

    ¡°Not at all,¡± replied Chris in a calm voice, refusing to rise to the bait. ¡°You look like you¡¯re recovering well, but none of us are mind readers and we can¡¯t know what you want to do long term.¡± Miya folded her arms, the scars along her wrists close to fully healed and vanished, save for a pair of thin pink lines against her tan skin.

    ¡°I do need to get back to Phoenix at some point,¡± she said.

    ¡°Gettin¡¯ back home?¡± asked Ben, teleporting to toss his empty wrapper in the trash can they¡¯d stolen from a curb a few blocks away.

    ¡°No. Revenge.¡±

    Chris glanced at Ben and Amanda in the silence following her pronouncement. ¡°Go on,¡± he prodded, making a spinning motion with his hand.

    ¡°Fuck off, I¡¯m thinking.¡± She unfolded her arms and took a sip of her coffee. ¡°Overlord isn¡¯t psychic. I hope. He knew I was a mage when he had me kidnapped. And I only ever told one person I was a mage. So, maybe we can learn about Overlord from him. Maybe we can figure out what to do with Olivia¡¯s tracker from him. I don¡¯t care, I want Don dead for what he did.¡±

    ¡°And he is?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°He was my teacher.¡± Olivia frowned. But you¡¯re away from him now. Why go back?

    ¡°Alright,¡± replied Chris. ¡°We¡¯ve got another couple of weeks of answering MHU questions.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, speakin¡¯ of them. If we can figure out if they¡¯re watchin¡¯ my old apartment, I¡¯d like to go check on it. I¡¯m sure they figured it out from my old Jeep I had to leave behind, but I still got stuff,¡± added Ben.

    ¡°We can look into that. Hey, pass me one of the Cheerios?¡± Amanda, closest to the food, tossed a small box of Cheerios to Chris. He caught it and began to open the box. ¡°I¡¯m going to go back to my apartment in a bit to pick up my own stuff. I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m going to find my own place or stay here. Now that I think about it, Amanda, do we owe you rent?¡± You too?

    Amanda squinted as she stared off into the distance, brushing a lock of deep brown hair out of her face. Olivia glanced at everyone else in the room, looking for any sign of distress, finding none. Is everyone moving out? Why? We¡¯re all here already. Why leave?

    ¡°I have a small house, on my own. Gear and equipment takes up most of my costs,¡± said Amanda. ¡°Olivia and Miya don¡¯t really have many options to pay, and you and Ben have been doing a good job of fixing this place up, I¡¯d say don¡¯t worry about rent for now.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you had this place, the workshop at the MHU, and your own house?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°One: very small, very cheap house. Two: MHU provided all of that stuff at the workshop. Three: most of my stuff is actually at my house, this is just some basic tools and a bunch of computers. I¡¯ve been keeping away for the same reason everyone else has, in case the MHU is watching.¡±

    A ringtone cut off the conversation. ¡°Oh fuck! My brother Rob is callin¡¯,¡± said Ben. He put his phone to his ear and walked off to the other end of the shop with a grin. ¡°Hey, you son of a bitch!¡±

    Miya pointed out, ¡°Sometimes the police would raid abandoned buildings for squatters in Arizona, don¡¯t know if they do that here or not. Are we at risk of that here?¡±

    ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be a problem,¡± Amanda dismissed her concern with a wave of her hand. ¡°This building is in some weird bureaucratic limbo due to a clerical error. I made sure it stays that way, that¡¯s why I took the keys in the first place.¡±

    Simultaneously from Ben, Olivia heard, ¡°So, yeah. It¡¯s been a hell of a month, but things are settlin¡¯ down now. How are the hills still treatin¡¯ you?¡± What is he talking about?

    ¡°If you say so,¡± said Miya. ¡°I appreciate the place to stay, but I am going back at some point. After, we¡¯ll see. And since we¡¯re not the MHU or the Watch, won¡¯t the feds notice us at some point? Especially with her?¡± she asked, nudging Olivia beside her.

    ¡°Yeah, we will need to get you registered at the USMHD, Olivia. It¡¯s just a form or two,¡± said Chris. ¡°I think that got started when you were first arrested, I¡¯ll check in next time they bring me in.¡±

    ¡°The what?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°The US Meta-Human Department. They keep tabs on the supers in the country. They¡¯re connected with every other department. Immigration, NSA, FBI, Health and Services, and on and on. As far as you¡¯ll be concerned it¡¯s just a very general overview of your powers, nothing too specific. The rest is just any aliases you might use, state and town where you live, and I think that¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°Weren¡¯t they talking about adding your social security number to it as well?¡± asked Miya. I don¡¯t think I have one of those.

    Ben, still at the other end of the building, exclaimed, ¡°What?! The merry men are going their own ways?¡± Stop trying to keep track of two separate conversations. Talking, especially from someone like Ben who didn¡¯t bother to keep his voice down, demanded attention.

    Olivia plucked at the hem of her shirt, saying, ¡°Are you sure? I don¡¯t think the government likes me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, please tell me you¡¯ve still got the bat,¡± said Ben. After a moment he cackled, ¡°I know!¡±

    ¡°I think that got shot down,¡± said Chris. ¡°I¡¯m not sure though.¡±

    ¡°Let me look it up,¡± said Amanda, wheeling over to a computer.

    ¡°So, yeah. It¡¯s really easy, nothing to worry about, but they have some pretty severe penalties for not filling it out,¡± explained Chris over the clicks from Amanda¡¯s keyboard.

    ¡°I thought you said I technically-¡± wasn¡¯t human in the eyes of the law ¡°-couldn¡¯t go to court or something?¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°True, but we¡¯re going for legitimacy here. You¡¯re a bit of a special case, but it¡¯s worth a shot just in case. Besides, the government will actually offer jobs based on your powers and depending on what you¡¯re looking for they can be pretty good if this doesn¡¯t pan out,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°Really? Even for me?¡± asked Olivia. But I don¡¯t want to leave too.

    ¡°The government does not like bored and unemployed supers.¡±

    Olivia shrugged, defeated. ¡°OK.¡± I don¡¯t know how to argue.

    ¡°Yeah, Chris, you were right. No social security needed,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll call you back,¡± said Ben, off to the side. He walked back over and announced, ¡°Rob an¡¯ a buddy of his might be drivin¡¯ up here if that¡¯s alright. His gang recently broke up, an¡¯ he¡¯s lookin¡¯ for a change of scenery, as it were. Buddy is just drivin¡¯ through. Also, what¡¯re we talkin¡¯ about?¡±

    Chris sighed and said, ¡°Alright, we were trying to figure out what to do with Olivia, but now I have some questions about your brother.¡±

    ¡°OK, his name¡¯s Rob, we¡¯re identical triplets, an¡¯ he goes by Gears in armor. He¡¯s a techie, specializing in ol¡¯ fashioned shit.¡± Didn¡¯t he just say he was a techie? ¡°His friend is a chick, name of Brianna. I think she¡¯s got some sorta power, never asked.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Amanda, ¡°Old fashioned shit? What the hell does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah. Plate armor, metallurgy, swords, gears, that kind of stuff. Your polar opposite, basically.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± began Amanda, doubt written clear across her face.

    Ben cut her protest off. He pointed to Chris, saying, ¡°Not all liquids are water.¡± He pointed to Olivia. ¡°Not all ferals are murderous. Not all tech is flashy shit. He made my mask an¡¯ he¡¯s got one of his own too. Don¡¯t talk shit, a good knife can be worth a dozen good gizmos in the right place. Of course, you¡¯ll have to ask the man himself for specifics. This is just what I know.¡±

    ¡°But what I¡¯m concerned about is what they¡¯re running from,¡± said Chris. ¡°They¡¯re not wanted for a bunch of murders, are they?¡±

    ¡°Nah, nah, nah. Nothin¡¯ worse than what we¡¯ve done, just longer. They spent three years givin¡¯ the cops in Pennsylvania a run for their money with some other guys.¡± Running from the cops? What do they do? Wait. I guess that¡¯s kind of a stupid point for me to complain about.

    ¡°How long does he intend to stay?¡±

    ¡°Dunno. ¡®til the heat dies down, at least. Bri just needs to stay the night.¡±

    ¡°So, what do we all think?¡± asked Chris.

    Amanda grimaced. Miya shrugged and nodded, indifferent. Ben hopped up and down slightly on his toes, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. Sure, why not? I don¡¯t see any problems with this. ¡°OK,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Do you have something to say, Amanda?¡± asked Chris, watching the grimace deepen once she was called out.

    She gave a drawn-out sigh. ¡°Fine, I guess,¡± she said through gritted teeth. I guess she doesn¡¯t want another Ben around. He did say they were identical triplets. Where¡¯s the third one?

    ¡°Alright,¡± said Chris. He checked the time on his phone. ¡°Everyone look into their housing, try to let me or Amanda know what you¡¯re planning to do in a week. Ben, you get Rob and Bri¡¯s accommodations put together. I¡¯ll talk with the MHU, Olivia, see if I can get you squared away. If there¡¯s nothing else¡­¡± he trailed off, opening up for someone else to fill the blank. No one did. ¡°Meeting adjourned.¡±

 2: Gears

    Chapter 2: Gears

    Corn. Fuck corn. Endless fucking corn, as far as the eye can see. I know every goddamn American who has ever crossed the Midwest has said this, but fuck it. So fucking boring I can¡¯t bring myself to give a shit about originality.Oh, hey, a brown smudge in the sky on the horizon. That¡¯s gotta be it. Soon there will be buildings and mountains and not corn and not corn and not corn! Corn can suck all the dicks.

    Rob¡¯s pickup truck rumbled over the highway, on the way to Westward City. The tires hit an uneven repair patch in the road, rattling the tools and armor in the bed of the truck. He refocused his tired eyes as the phone in his jeans buzzed, splitting his attention between the straight and empty road before him and the text from his brother.

    ¡®hey, want wendy¡¯s when ur in¡¯

    He grinned in anticipation. Only the most serious and important family conversations happen at Wendy¡¯s. The city came into view just as the gas tank edged towards empty for what seemed like the billionth time since he set out from Pennsylvania three days ago.

    ¡®hell ya¡¯

    At the nearest exit, he angled his truck and its heavy trailer into the emptiest gas station. He leaned against the armored flank of the truck as the pump siphoned off his money. What am I walking into here?

    His brother said there were four others on a proto team when he confirmed they had a place and not much else. There was Chris, the de-facto leader, Amanda, who was the easiest to mock, Miya, an angry Aztec chick, and Olivia, who had wings. Rob had no idea what Ben was talking about for that last one, and he had provided no more details than that about any of them. Something about energy drinks? Maybe? Whatever. This is far enough for the heat to die down. I can decide in a couple months what to do. I was kind of hoping Ben would have something a little more solid set up. He moved out here years ago.

    Night fell by the time he rolled up to the back of an abandoned auto shop. He got out of his truck and hammered a fist on the metal door with a few bullet dents. What the hell happened here? The hairs on the back of his neck raised, as if he were being watched. He turned around, scanning the surrounding rooftops only to find nothing.

    The door burst open, revealing a familiar face. They both began laughing madly. We still got it. Rob punched Ben in the shoulder and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, trying to get him in a headlock. ¡°Yo! We heard somethin¡¯ loud,¡± said Ben by way of greeting, twisting out with practiced ease and elbowing him in the gut. They both entered, squeezing through the door as they wrestled.

    ¡°Rob, everyone. Everyone, Rob,¡± said Ben, introducing him to the four other people in the shop with one hand trying to hook his fingers into the flesh under Rob¡¯s collarbone.

    One girl with a practical and thus cute pixie cut sat at a desk, looking at him with barely restrained disgust. Amanda, if Ben has been doing his work well. A smaller girl, with sharp Aztec features that threatened a scowl at any moment, folded a basket full of clothes at the foot of an Army surplus cot. Miya. Behind her loomed another girl, with a small button nose and a wide mouth. More striking, however, was the fact she was seven feet tall, built like a brick, with wings framing her body. She avoided eye contact once Rob looked her way. A feral with literal wings. Olivia. There has got to be a fantastic story behind her. Next to Amanda stood a big guy who studied him with light blue eyes. He nodded to Rob. Chris, by process of elimination. Only guy here who doesn¡¯t look like me.

    Rob raised his hand in greeting as he and Ben disengaged, ¡°Hey, everybody.¡±

    They murmured their various greetings. Rob moved forward, brushing some contraption and accompanying tools off to the side of a desk, then took a seat on it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amanda grimace and close her eyes for a brief moment. Ben leaned against some boxes and called out, ¡°You want anythin¡¯ to eat?¡±

    ¡°I thought you an¡¯ me were grabbin¡¯ Wendy¡¯s tonight?¡±

    ¡°Tonight? It¡¯s late. Ain¡¯t passin¡¯ out?¡±

    I made double time up here in a gas guzzling monster for Wendy¡¯s, not to put it off for later.¡°I¡¯m not gonna put off Wendy¡¯s, Ben.¡± Rob then said to the group at large, ¡°Hi everyone! Thanks for given¡¯ me a place for a bit. Beats the hell outta motels.¡± Seems like a secure spot. My truck probably won¡¯t get broken into here. Probably.

    ¡°Happy to help,¡± said Chris. ¡°Ben also said that you had a friend coming as well?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Bri is a couple days behind me. She¡¯ll only be crashin¡¯ here for a day, she¡¯s got family out on the West coast. An¡¯ you¡¯re Chris, right?¡±

    ¡°Sorry, yes. My name is Chris.¡±

    After a brief pause, Miya said, ¡°I¡¯m Miya.¡±

    ¡°Amanda,¡± Amanda said with forced politeness. She doesn¡¯t like me already!

    ¡°I¡¯m Olivia,¡± said the girl with wings studying the ground very intently. Apparently I¡¯m terrifying.

    ¡°I guessed right! Jackass over here,¡± Rob motioned to Ben, who snickered, ¡°told me almost nothin¡¯ about everyone.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to be staying here long term we might be getting into combat.¡±

    Rob shrugged. ¡°Cool. Who?¡±

    ¡°Overlord is tracking Olivia and Amanda,¡± called out Miya. Rob let out a low whistle and cast a side eye at Ben.

    Chris nodded and added, ¡°And the local MHU is, while not hostile, not exactly friendly.¡±

    ¡°Y¡¯all ain¡¯t fuckin¡¯ around,¡± replied Rob with a laugh. I guess they want to know what I can do. He explained, ¡°So I¡¯ve got this kickass set of armor. It can take a bit of punishment, been shot quite a few times in it. It¡¯s entirely mechanical, and amplifies my movements, so I can punch shit hard. I¡¯ve got a good range of motion, but I ain¡¯t the fastest in it. Also, got a nice shotgun, crowbar, an¡¯ a couple other gadgets. ¡±

    There was an art to moving in that suit. Move too fast, and it would seize up. Too slow, and it would lack the necessary force to move the slabs of metal that composed the suit.

    ¡°Need anythin¡¯ else?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°Your power itself. Ben said it was ¡®old fashioned shit¡¯, but I was hoping you would be a tad more descriptive,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°Engineer, pretty generalized. But primarily it¡¯s metallurgy an¡¯ mechanics.¡± said Rob.

    ¡°What do you mean by generalized?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°So, take metallurgy. I can only really make something strong or brittle or pliable. There¡¯s a guy working for US Steel who specializes only in metals. He can turn copper into putty, make iron into the closest thing we¡¯ve got to adamantium, and so on. He¡¯s practically a fuckin¡¯ wizard. I can¡¯t do that. But he has no idea how to make a clockwork armor.¡±

    ¡°So I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s what you¡¯ve made?¡± said Chris.

    ¡°You got it. So, what can you lot do? I know Ben, don¡¯t know the rest of you.¡± This goes both ways. If I¡¯m going to risk my neck with these people, I better know what they can do too.

    ¡°I turn into liquid, Amanda is an electricity techie, Miya uses magic, and Olivia flies, and is bulletproof,¡± said Chris. Bulletproof? No fucking way. Suddenly her shyness seemed faintly ridiculous. ¡°You¡¯ll have to ask them individually, it is getting late.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± said Rob. There were three sections blocked off with jury rigged curtains. Some people sharing beds or something? Rob didn¡¯t judge, he¡¯d slept in far worse conditions. Sleep is precious, sleep is sacred. ¡°Oh, you. Olivia? You got a question?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Um¡­sorry. No,¡± she said, still looking at the floor.

    ¡°Yes you do. You¡¯ve been shootin¡¯ me questionin¡¯ looks this whole time when you think I¡¯m not lookin¡¯. Then you open your mouth, then change your mind. Spit it out.¡± If it¡¯s some bullshit emotional thing or dishonesty thing I¡¯m going to be pissed.

    She scratched the back of her head, giving Rob a sudden view of hook claws on her fingertips, then asked, ¡°Did you, I don¡¯t know, drive a semi here? It sounded a lot like one.¡±

    Rob shot a look at Ben. ¡°Did you not tell them about the BAT?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a surprise. Surprises are fun!¡± They both laughed. The others watched them warily.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Come on, come on! I¡¯ll show you,¡± said Rob. He got up, leading the way outside. The others hesitantly followed, Ben bringing up the rear. ¡°Behold! It¡¯s a BAT! A Big Ass Truck.¡±

    The truck was enormous. In fact Rob usually had clearance issues in drive thrus due to the smokestack behind the cabin. It appeared normal on the outside, but underneath Rob welded slabs of metal as armor. He¡¯d modded the engine with a mechanic friend of his, so the thing could actually move at a decent pace.

    Painted a dull, matte black, he¡¯d resisted the urge to slap on some random paint jobs in the same style as his armor. No reason to be obvious, after all. He¡¯d resisted the urge to add spikes to the front. And a Confederate flag. And blue flames on the hood. Maybe someday. The windows were heavily tinted, in fact made of bulletproof glass.

    ¡°You drive this?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°I drive this. I drove it all the way from the east coast to here, in part so you could bask in its magnificence.¡± I read that phrase in a book once.

    Chris looked on with a faint aura of amusement. Amanda rolled her eyes and went back inside, while Olivia hung back in the doorway itself.

    Rob asked Chris, ¡°So do you need anything else from me right now?¡±

    ¡°Not from me. Ben has you covered, I¡¯m guessing you two want to catch up, or you want to sleep somewhere besides a truck stop.¡±

    Ben laughed. ¡°Yeah, sketchy fuckin¡¯ truck rest stops. Just wake up, an¡¯ you got no second kidney.¡±

    ¡°Well how would you know if it¡¯s gone?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°It would fuckin¡¯ hurt, that¡¯s how,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Hey, you don¡¯t know that. Maybe¡­ maybe they used anesthetics or somethin¡¯?¡± They both grinned now. They knew where this was going.

    ¡°One, even if they did, there¡¯d be a huge fuckin¡¯ scar on your back. Two, what kinda organ thief uses anesthetics?¡±

    ¡°The decent kind. I mean, what kind of person would subject their fellow man to such pain?¡±

    ¡°Organ thieves. That¡¯s who.¡± Miya and Chris stared, Olivia having gone back inside with Amanda a bit before.

    ¡°They¡¯re still people, not monsters. Besides, if your victim wakes up on the operating table an¡¯ starts thrashin¡¯ in pain, they could get killed while you operate.¡±

    ¡°What? Why would they give a shit if you die? They¡¯re already slicin¡¯ out a bit of ya.¡±

    ¡°If they die, the organ might be useless before you get it out. See? Economic benefit as well.¡±

    ¡°So they don¡¯t use anesthetics. They hit ya over the head or somethin¡¯,¡± said Ben in mock exasperation.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t a surefire thing. That could still kill someone, an¡¯ now where back to where we started, ain¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°Anesthetics are expensive.¡±

    ¡°So are organs,¡± countered Rob.

    Ben didn¡¯t respond. Did I win? I think I won! Then Ben said, ¡°Chloroform. It¡¯s a lot cheaper than medical grade shit. Keeps em under so you can get yer merchandise too, but does nothin¡¯ for the hurt.¡± We both know nothing about actual medicine, so we both could be, and most likely are, completely wrong.

    Rob sighed. ¡°Point¡± He turned to Chris. ¡°Yep, me an¡¯ Ben¡¯ll be out late, got some catchin¡¯ up to do. How long¡¯s it been, three years? Four? Yeah, four,¡± he said, opening the door to the BAT.

    Chris blinked, mouthed ¡®what¡¯ silently to himself, then recovered enough to say, ¡°OK. Have fun, you kids.¡± Rob and Ben snickered, then left. Chris and Miya headed back inside the shop.

    ¡°So where we headin¡¯?¡± asked Rob, once the engine started.

    Ben told him, and Rob set off. ¡°Fuck, man. It¡¯s good to see you,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°No kiddin¡¯. This¡¯ll be fun. Even on the somewhat right side of the law an¡¯ everythin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the fuck happened to you lot out east?¡± asked Ben.

    Pricks. Pricks happened. ¡°Wasn¡¯t my choice. Jimmy an¡¯ Sean¡¯s egos eventually grew so large they couldn¡¯t be in the same room together, an¡¯ they basically said ¡®it¡¯s me or him¡¯ to the rest of us. Me an¡¯ Bri talked about maybe going together, but that kinda fell through, so here I am.¡±

    ¡°Sean? Tha¡¯s that guy who called me cracker, right?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Same prick,¡± said Rob. Dammit. I just realized that without Sean I can¡¯t say it¡¯s OK because I have black friends. It¡¯s so fun to piss people off with that.

    ¡°Sucks,¡± said Ben.

    Rob nodded. ¡°So yourself. What is the average day in the life of a Ben? Take up skiing or somethin¡¯? I hear that¡¯s what Colorado people do.¡±

    Ben chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯ have the fuckin¡¯ money for that. Nah. What I¡¯ve been doin¡¯ is mainly just work at the donut place for a bit, dick around for a bit at my apartment or the local gatherin¡¯ places, then patrol. Things have been fairly quiet since a bit before Christmas, so I¡¯ve been bored anyway. An¡¯ sleep, that too.¡±

    ¡°You still havin¡¯ trouble sleepin¡¯ too?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Ben. Rob grunted in agreement.

    To fill the silence Rob said, ¡°I gotta ask, what¡¯s with the feral? I¡¯m expectin¡¯ nothin¡¯ but the most amusin¡¯ of stories, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Name¡¯s Olivia. An¡¯ there¡¯s no good story, actually. She kinda just showed up one day. She doesn¡¯t remember anythin¡¯, so if you do make a quip ¡®bout her smarts I¡¯ll beat the shit outta you.¡±

    Note to self: do not insult the intelligence of Olivia. ¡°Fair enough. You said absolutely nothin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Nah. We¡¯ve, well, I, have instituted movie night, cuz she hasn¡¯t seen any of ¡®em.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Rob thought for a second. Doesn¡¯t remember anything? ¡°Which night?¡±

    ¡°Most nights. Me an¡¯ her an¡¯ Miya have been fuckin¡¯ bored, seein¡¯ as we¡¯re somewhat unemployed. Amanda¡¯s been doin¡¯ her own thing, Chris¡¯s been gettin¡¯ some stuff set up, but they show up every now an¡¯ then. Gonna wanna turn here. I do still got a job, but it¡¯s part time, an¡¯ we¡¯re goin¡¯ for low profile right about now, so no real patrols.¡±

    Rob turned onto the indicated road. ¡°OK, even if there¡¯s no good story behind it, just how? She seemed fuckin¡¯ terrified of me.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. She ain¡¯t a huge fan of new people, that¡¯s all. I was actually the first to report her. Then Cyrus had Chris, and Amanda, who were in the MHU then, track her down. Then the local gang attacked, an¡¯ she goes an¡¯ kills a bunch of ¡®em.¡±

    Ben continued, ¡°Don¡¯t piss her off, by the way. Gets all scary an¡¯ hissy. But if you do manage to get her into that state, you deserve whatcha get. But anyways, she got arrested, the local MHU head went insane an¡¯ the second in command decided Amanda an¡¯ Chris were rats. We all got together, wiped out that gang, an¡¯ got Miya outta there. She had some weird Overlord thing in her head. You gotta step up your game, man.¡±

    He¡¯s right. Their little game of one upmanship began when Ben found and raided an Overlord lab, and got his rifle to show for it. Then Sam sent them a picture of a loose feral he and his unit had killed in Brazil. Then Rob and his gang looted the house of the state governor, tying him upside down to the refrigerator before making good their escape. Now Ben had helped to wipe out a city mob. What to do, what to do?

    They pulled into the Wendy¡¯s parking lot, taking up two spaces. It¡¯s fun when someone tries to key the side of an armor plate. Ben and Rob got their greasy burgers and sat down a discreet distance away from the other people eating. Wendy¡¯s was the one place they chose their words carefully, Ben would tell him what was up when he knew how to say it. They munched on in silence.

    Eventually, Ben said, ¡°You hear from Sam recently?¡± Uh oh.

    They had lost contact with Sam about a year ago, he said something about being deployed to the Middle East. Probably doing some black ops shit there. Small wonder he isn¡¯t talking to us right now. Probably still angsting or something, too.

    ¡°No,¡± said Rob.

    ¡°He sent me this.¡± Ben pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a couple times, then passed it to Rob.

    Rob took it. It took him a moment to comprehend. ¡°This is nearly gibberish. Is ¡®taauth¡¯ even a word? An¡¯ somethin¡¯ about the underground?¡± Random letters of the text were capitalized, and a couple English words had spaces in the middle. The fuck? At the end it said ¡®donT wOR ry¡¯. ¡°A code, maybe?¡±

    ¡°Not one that I can figure out. An¡¯ that ain¡¯t our style anyways,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°So either someone stole his phone an¡¯ is screwin¡¯ with us for some reason, or his fingers are broken an¡¯ he tried to type this anyways,¡± said Rob. I really don¡¯t want to have to track you down, Sam. Because our best lead is Lock Corp and I don¡¯t want to fight that nonsense.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I thought. I wanted to check an¡¯ see if you¡¯d heard anythin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Nah, nothin¡¯. He did say don¡¯t worry at the end, so I¡¯m guessin¡¯ he¡¯s got it under control. You text him back?¡±

    ¡°Yep. Three days ago. Hasn¡¯t responded. Called ¡®im too, also nothin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°We goin¡¯ down the warpath? If we gotta, we gotta, but Lock Corp ain¡¯t small.¡±

    Ben sighed, and rested his forehead on his hand. ¡°Nah. I¡¯m thinkin¡¯ he¡¯s just lettin¡¯ us know he¡¯s alive. We can just keep doin¡¯ what we¡¯re doin¡¯.¡± They had each stood on their own for years after splitting.

    ¡°That¡¯s about what I was thinking. He said don¡¯t worry, so let¡¯s not worry,¡± said Rob reluctantly. I said that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do, so that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do.

    Ben grimaced. ¡°Right. Still don¡¯t like it.¡±

    ¡°Point. I hear you, don¡¯t worry.¡±

    ¡°Blurg. You¡¯re right. Since you were coming up anyway I wanted to check it with you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. You done? I¡¯m done,¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Ben. ¡°You hear from Mom?¡±

    ¡°Pft. Nah. You?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± They got up, threw away their trash, and left in silence.

    In the truck, heading back to the lair, Rob smiled said, ¡°So now that we¡¯re away from ¡®em, you actually want to give me some info on who those other fuckers are?¡±

    Ben laughed. ¡°I figured you¡¯d hate goin¡¯ in with no info whatsoever.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, fuck you. Get on with it.¡±

    Ben snickered, then composed himself. ¡°Alright. So you got Chris. He¡¯s the leader guy? We never had a vote or anythin¡¯ but I don¡¯t think anyone else really wants the job, so he¡¯s stuck with it. I call him Blondie. He did just break up with his girlfriend of three years, I think he said.¡± Ouch.

    Ben continued, ¡°He¡¯s alright now. Say whatever you like to him, within reason. It¡¯ll be water off his back. Stoic fella. He¡¯s alright at his job, so far as I can tell. The feral, Olivia, she¡¯s fairly quiet. She¡¯s super hesitant, so be patient.¡±

    ¡°Eugh. So she actually puts thought into what she says before she says it? That takes forever.¡± Patience. Meh. Ben and Rob knew they were anomalies as far as people went. That didn¡¯t mean they couldn¡¯t have some fun at peoples¡¯ expenses.

    ¡°I know. Other than that, she¡¯s just a normal chick. I call her Little Bird.¡± If Ben¡¯s calling her Little Bird it¡¯s not sounding like joking around will be a problem.

    ¡°She can fly?¡± How do the physics of that work? People aren¡¯t aerodynamic.

    ¡°Yep. Been kinda cooped up with Marcus gunnin¡¯ for her still, but I¡¯ve seen it. She¡¯s got fuckin¡¯ super hearin¡¯ and smell, too, so don¡¯t assume she¡¯s not there.¡±

    ¡°You like her?¡± Rob asked with a grin and raised eyebrow. You¡¯ve been chatting a lot about her.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Ben, taking a second to catch his meaning. ¡°No. She¡¯s like a little sister.¡±

    Rob blinked. ¡°She¡¯s seven feet tall.¡±

    ¡°A really big little sister.¡±

    After a moment, Rob said, ¡°Alright, an¡¯ the others¡­¡±

    ¡°Right! Miya seems normal at first glance, but scratch the surface somehow an¡¯ she¡¯s a raging homicidal maniac! You¡¯ll probably get a chance to see it soon enough. She got caught by some of Overlord¡¯s people, an¡¯ so far as I can tell the only thing that got her through was revenge. On the flip side, me an¡¯ her raided a slaughterhouse kinda thing for bones yesterday, cuz that¡¯s what she uses for her voodoo shit. That was pretty fun, actually.¡±

    ¡°Bones? Bone magic?¡±

    ¡°Yep. I think she was born an¡¯ raised in ¡®merica, doesn¡¯t have an accent or anythin¡¯. An¡¯ Amanda,¡± Ben trailed off with a laugh. ¡°Thank you so much for tellin¡¯ me techies hate bein¡¯ called techies. She fuckin¡¯ hates it, takes it way too seriously.¡±

    Rob laughed. ¡°I try.¡± What¡¯s the point of making shit if you can¡¯t have fun with it?

    Ben continued, ¡°Mess with her stuff, make minor inconveniences, she starts gettin¡¯ all pissy, it¡¯s great. It was great when she had to let me drive her car, too.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha,¡± said Rob. They continued driving and talking as the night dragged on, in no hurry to break their stride in conversation after years apart. I missed this.

 3: Horizons

    Chapter 3: Horizons

    Olivia gradually drifted awake to the sound of an ongoing conversation. This in and of itself was not unusual, though this was the first she¡¯d heard of a state governor. Hang on. Something smells different and I don¡¯t recognize one of those voices. Oh, right. Rob¡¯s friend arrived while I was sleeping. Bri, I think. So many new people. Olivia got up and began to get dressed in her baggy and cut up clothes.

    Once ready, she took a moment, with one hand hovering over the curtain separating her bed from the wider auto shop. What should I say? Just hi? Yeah, easy. It¡¯ll be OK. She parted the curtain and walked out, eyebrows furrowing in concern when she realized that Rob sat in Amanda¡¯s chair, twirling a pair of pliers in one hand and eating a bagel in the other. I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s smart, Rob. But food. Food is good. Is it breakfast for me because I just woke up, or dinner because of the time? Chris and Miya sat around the table with another girl Olivia didn¡¯t recognize.

    ¡°Then Mike started freaking out because he heard on the police band they had caught on to us, so we had to book it out of there before Jimmy could grab anything else,¡± said the girl with her back to Olivia. Bri.

    ¡°So he had a radio in his head? That was his power?¡± asked Miya. Rob and Bri nodded in unison. ¡°That must have sucked.¡±

    ¡°Nah, he could turn it off,¡± said Rob. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like he listened to static all the time.¡±

    ¡°OK, gotcha,¡± said Miya. She looked over Chris¡¯ shoulder and called out, ¡°Hey, Olivia.¡±

    Olivia aborted grabbing box of old bagels as Chris and Bri turned around in their seats. ¡°Um, hi,¡± said Olivia with a small wave in their direction. Bri gave a tiny start. Right, scaly hand. And claws. Sorry.

    Chris waved her over, saying, ¡°Bri, this is Olivia. Olivia, Bri.¡±

    Olivia walked over and found a chair, saying, ¡°Good morning. Or evening. You know.¡±

    ¡°G¡¯mornin¡¯,¡± said Rob, tossing the pliers carelessly to the side. Then he faced her with a grin and said, ¡°Of course, I could possibly be Ben.¡±

    Her head tilted a couple degrees to the side, puzzled. ¡°No you¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡± he prodded her. Bri giggled.

    ¡°Well, yes.¡±

    ¡°Dammit,¡± sighed Rob. ¡°It¡¯s fun to fuck with people on that.¡± He wore a pair of jeans and a light grey hoodie, and Olivia got the suspicion that Ben would be dressed the exact same way the next time she saw him.

    She smiled slightly. ¡°Um, alright.¡±

    He took a large bite out of his bagel, then asked around it, ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡± Her smile vanished. Oh god, both you and Ben talk with food in your mouths. Why?

    She began to reflexively look down, then stopped herself. No, stop it. Bad habit, bad. ¡°Well, you two are kind of different.¡±

    It was Rob¡¯s turn to shoot her a questioning look. ¡°Never heard that before. Ever.¡±

    ¡°No, no. I mean, you know.¡± This is going to be weird, just get it over with. ¡°You two kind of smell different. That¡¯s it,¡± she trailed off. She didn¡¯t add how he talked marginally slower than Ben, or how he was slightly more muscular. Otherwise, the sheer volume of similarities she¡¯d noticed over the past couple of days caught her off guard. Both had easy, if sharp, smiles and dark recessed eyes. They even both habitually leaned in whenever talking to someone, like cats playing with a toy.

    He shrugged and said, ¡°Oh, cool. How does that work, anyhow?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t really know. There¡¯s always a lot, and I kind of just tune most of it out.¡± Good job me. You didn¡¯t say he smelled greasy and burnt, while Ben smells chemical-y and donut-y. Baby steps. Now I just need to figure out how to change the subject.

    ¡°So there was you, Rob, Mike, and Jimmy and Shawn?¡± Miya asked Bri after a silent moment. Thank you, Miya. I just needed to ask him a question.

    ¡°Hm? Oh, yeah. Jimmy was the magic guy, and Shawn was the mentalist guy. He could¡­¡± Bri trailed off and sighed. She turned to Rob, the tight braid of blonde hair at the back of her head swaying with the movement. ¡°How would you explain it?¡±

    ¡°Voodoo witchcraft,¡± he said without hesitation.

    ¡°Wow. Saying the black dude with powers is a voodoo witch doctor. Good job,¡± said Bri, amused. Olivia pulled out her phone while keeping an ear on the conversation. Voodoo.

    ¡°OK, you go ahead an¡¯ explain his power. Go on. Waitin¡¯,¡± said Rob, equally amused.

    Bri sighed. She held a hand to her forehead for a moment, then said, ¡°He¡¯s not quite precognizant. He can, like, read plans from body language. That¡¯s the best way I can describe it.¡±

    ¡°Your confidence is astounding,¡± said Miya. Olivia fumbled with the small keys under the table. Half the letters have scratches through them already.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t have said it better myself, Bri,¡± said Rob. ¡°If he said something, you believed it. Wasn¡¯t wrong often.¡±

    ¡°So you were the only girl in the whole group?¡± asked Miya. Does that matter?

    ¡°Yep,¡± said Bri.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Voodoo. Blend of Christianity and African beliefs. Mainly in the Caribbean. Those are those islands to the south, right?

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t the worst thing in the world, and it¡¯s not like they were my entire social life.¡±

    ¡°How did you all get together?¡± Everyone looked at Olivia. Oh, I said that aloud. She slipped her phone back into her pocket. ¡°Um, I mean, when you first met.¡± There¡¯s a lot of scratches on this table. Of course there are, this is where I usually sit.

    ¡°Well, lemme think. There¡¯s no real good story behind it, actually,¡± said Rob. ¡°Feel free to point out anything I miss, cuz I¡¯m startin¡¯ with my side of it,¡± he said to Bri.

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°So I was drivin¡¯ up north from Baltimore a couple years ago, no real goal in mind. I¡¯d rob the occasional gas station or smash parkin¡¯ meters an¡¯ move on. This was before I got the BAT, so I could be a bit more low profile. Eventually, I got up to Pennsylvania an¡¯ was knockin¡¯ over this late night diner.¡±

    Wait, he what? Olivia glanced at Chris, who simply leaned back in his chair, almost detached from the conversation. I shouldn¡¯t say anything. It¡¯s not as bad as killing people.

    ¡°Three dudes rushed me when my back was on ¡®em for a moment. The gun I was threatenin¡¯ with was fake, but the spring-loaded knives up my sleeves weren¡¯t. Plus, I had some metal shin and arm guards under my clothes. Thieves on the streets gotta be wary of their mark in case they shoot lasers outta their eyes, an¡¯ civilians gotta be wary of muggers who could melt their brain or whatever. But back on track. So I start fightin¡¯ those three fellas, got one down but I was still fucked, when some other kid in a bandana smashes a chair over one of the other guys. After was a bit of a blur, but me an¡¯ that kid hightailed it outta there together.¡±

    ¡°You trusted some kid you just met?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°He kinda saved my sorry ass, an¡¯ I might have kept him from gettin¡¯ leveled at one point. Anyways, he was Mike. He¡¯d been in there for a bit, workin¡¯ up the courage to actually rob his boss when I barged in. We split the money, got to talkin¡¯, an¡¯ he tagged along. Funny, he¡¯s pretty easy to push around, but he¡¯s never once told any of us why.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ve asked. Rob¡¯s asked, Shawn¡¯s asked, even Jimmy¡¯s asked. Mike just won¡¯t talk about his past,¡± pipped up Bri. ¡°I mean, we weren¡¯t asking for his whole life story, but even after two years he would just clam up whenever we asked.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Rob. ¡°So me an¡¯ him kicked around for about a week, when I got contacted by some people at the Black Market. I¡¯d met one of them, didn¡¯t know that at the time, at the DC Techcon. They contacted me to be part of a job, an¡¯ they were OK with Mike. There I met Jimmy, an¡¯ Bri since she was datin¡¯ him at the time.¡± Whoa. Black market? Techcon? What? Back to the phone.

    Bri rolled her eyes and protested, ¡°We weren¡¯t technically dating.¡± Rob merely smirked. ¡°Fine, whatever. Continue.¡±

    ¡°An¡¯ Shawn was there too, also got hired by the Black Market guy. We had to steal some schematics out of some mine out in the west part of the state, right?¡±

    OK. A black market is just an unofficial market. I guess it¡¯s just for illegal stuff.

    ¡°No. Steel mill. It was close to a mine though,¡± said Bri. ¡°You were lost in your own little world, that¡¯s probably why you don¡¯t remember.¡±

    Rob jabbed a finger at her with a grin. ¡°Don¡¯t judge, that place was cool.¡± A steel mill? Really? You make steel there, right? That doesn¡¯t sound fun.

    ¡°I am aware. That was your mantra through the whole damn job.¡± Rob grinned. Bri continued, ¡°So we stole the papers, we¡¯ll spare you the nitty gritty details, but afterwards we decided to stick together for a bit. We weren¡¯t the biggest players, we mainly did contract work or robbery to make ends meet.¡±

    The rumble of a car engine caught Olivia¡¯s ear. It pulled up to the back of the shop and cut off. ¡°Someone is here,¡± she announced.

    The door to the shop squeaked open, and in walked Amanda with a bag slung over one shoulder. ¡°Oh, hi everyone,¡± she said, walking over to her desk amid the chorus of greetings. She set her bag on her desk and started down at Rob with a suspiciously calm expression.

    ¡°Somethin¡¯ wrong?¡± he asked, grin stretched to shit eating proportions.

    ¡°You¡¯re in my spot.¡± Oh no. Do I have to talk with Rob and Amanda like I did with Ben and Amanda? Wait! Ask a question, change the subject.

    ¡°Um, where¡¯s Ben? Didn¡¯t he drive you?¡± asked Olivia.

    Amanda blinked, attention torn between Rob and Olivia. ¡°No, I just replaced my old car earlier today. It¡¯s not the greatest in the world, but the Tesla¡¯s a bit outside my price range, no matter how much I want it.¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°I kinda want one of those,¡± said Rob.

    ¡°Says the dude who drives a huge, gas guzzling monster of a truck,¡± joked an oblivious Bri. ¡°And isn¡¯t Tesla basically the techie god?¡±

    Without hesitation, Amanda replied, ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°That dude was awesome,¡± said Rob. Wow, both of them.

    ¡°The man invented half the stuff in the modern world, without powers, might I add,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°He got dicked over by businesses an¡¯ jackasses who valued profit over good engineerin¡¯,¡± added Rob.

    ¡°The man was an unappreciated genius-¡± started Amanda.

    ¡°-an¡¯ I will break the knees of anyone who says otherwise,¡± finished Rob. OK. Subject changed. That worked really well somehow.

    Bri blinked, glancing between the two techies. ¡°OK then, I learned something today.¡± She yawned as she twisted and stretched in her chair, setting off a chain reaction with the others. ¡°It¡¯s been nice meeting you all, but I¡¯ve been sitting in a car all day. I think I¡¯m going to pass out for the night. What is today? Thursday?¡± The metal legs of her chair scraped against the concrete floor as she pushed her chair back as she got up.

    ¡°All day. Your patch of concrete is right next to mine, over there,¡± said Rob, pointing.

    Everyone started heading to bed, except for Olivia and Amanda, who immediately reclaimed her spot once Rob vacated it. I may as well fly around for a bit now. It¡¯s fun, and I¡¯ve got the whole night to kill if everyone else is going to sleep.

    ¡°Nice to meet you, Bri. See you tomorrow,¡± said Amanda. Yeah. What she said. ¡°Do you have a full night of flying around and reading again?¡± Amanda asked Olivia.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Have fun, stay out of trouble,¡± Amanda said as she waved her goodbye.

    I don¡¯t get in trouble. Much. Not on purpose. ¡°Bye,¡± said Olivia, returning her wave.

    She stepped out into the cool night, stretching her wings the moment she cleared the confines of the doorframe. The back lot was positively crowded, with Rob¡¯s truck dwarfing a little red car and a bubbly hatchback. Which is Bri¡¯s and which is Amanda¡¯s? Wait, the license plates! The red one is Amanda¡¯s.

    With her focus on the cars, it took her a moment to realize an indistinct figure stood on a rooftop a few streets over. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She blinked, staring off into an empty night sky. What am I doing? Oh, right, flying.

    She whiled away the hours until the sun began to come back up. The sun looks kind of cool when it comes up over the horizon that way. What did Chris say? ¡®Eastern Colorado just an extension of Kansas.¡¯ Whatever that means. I should fly that way tomorrow night and see what¡¯s out there.

    ***

    The next day, Olivia woke up much earlier than before, silenced her phone alarm, and went out into the lair again. Let¡¯s try this whole socialization thing again. This time the whole gang, plus Bri, was gathered around the table, chatting in two small groups.

    ¡°Just in time, we¡¯re gettin¡¯ Thai food from a place we found while drivin¡¯. Want some?¡± Ben called out to Olivia as she approached.

    ¡°Um, sure,¡± said Olivia, blinking the sleep from her eyes. I don¡¯t know exactly what that means exactly, but food! Food is good.

    ¡°Alright, menu¡¯s here.¡± He pointed to the laminated sheet of partially bluepaper with many colorful words written on it on the table. ¡°Just tell Miya which you want, an¡¯ the spiciness.¡±

    ¡°Spiciness?¡±

    ¡°This place has a scale of one to seven, seven bein¡¯ the highest,¡± explained Rob.

    Olivia read the menu. I don¡¯t recognize a good third of these words. Oh, explanations in English. That helps. There, that looks good enough, I guess. No clue what it is, but it looks like it has a bunch of pork. It might be a nice change of pace from beef. She motioned to what she wanted. Miya nodded as she held a phone to her ear, tapping her foot as the others relayed their orders to her.

    ¡°You¡¯ll probably want to start with two or something for spiciness,¡± said Chris. Olivia nodded and held up two fingers for Miya.

    Miya finished her order, thanked whoever was on the other end, then hung up. ¡°They said around a half hour. Who¡¯s driving?¡±

    ¡°Sure, I will,¡± said Chris. ¡°Also, hello, Olivia.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Hi.¡± Olivia joined him at the table, between him and Ben.

    ¡°So, Olivia,¡± began Bri. Olivia glanced at her for a second. She¡¯s just curious, this isn¡¯t another police interrogation. ¡°Where were you all today?¡±

    ¡°Um, just sleeping. Over there.¡± She gestured to her curtained off section.

    ¡°The whole day?¡± Look up, look up. Olivia nodded, bringing her gaze up as she did. ¡°So you¡¯re nocturnal?¡±

    ¡°Um, maybe? A few weeks ago, when we were first starting out, I was doing stuff during the day, but I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    ¡°Marcus, the MHU police chief here, has taken a particular dislike for her for some reason, so she¡¯s trying to stay out of sight until something else major comes up to preoccupy him. It might take a while, we just did his job for him.¡± It¡¯s quieter at night, too. Olivia glanced at Chris with a small smile. Thank you.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Not sure, but he¡¯s a complete dick,¡± said Amanda. ¡°Trust me, me and Chris worked under him for a while. It really did suck.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s got to be super boring, nothing happens at night if you can¡¯t got to, like a club or something,¡± said Bri.

    ¡°Not really. It¡¯s not bad. I read. Fly.¡±

    ¡°Really? You can fly? Like, well?¡± Bri asked Olivia. Well? I think I¡¯m good at flying. Or do you mean am I messed up, like that other feral?

    ¡°Um, kind of.¡± I liked just observing conversations more.

    ¡°Kinda?¡± blurted out Ben. ¡°You flap your wings an¡¯ off you go, an¡¯ you keep pace with us in cars. You fly. The hell are you talkin¡¯ ¡®bout kinda?¡± Sorry.

    ¡°Sorry. Yes. Well, I don¡¯t really flap my wings too much,¡± said Olivia. I can just address Miya, and Bri can still hear. This is actually quite easier. ¡°That¡¯s just to get off the ground. I usually just glide once I get high enough. Sometimes the air is going up, so I just use that instead of moving my wings too much. It¡¯s quicker too. But yes, I fly. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Oh, the updrafts keep you going?¡± asked Bri.

    ¡°Um¡­¡± From the way she said it, this is something I should know. ¡°Sure?¡±

    ¡°An updraft is rising hot air,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Olivia repeated. I did not know that, but OK. That seems right.

    ¡°Why this interest in flight?¡± Miya asked Bri.

    ¡°Oh, my dad¡¯s a pilot. We actually own a small plane, and he used to take me and my brothers out for flights as a sort of bonding time when he had enough time off back home,¡± said Bri. ¡°I¡¯ve never had the opportunity to learn how, but it sounds like it¡¯s fun.¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± said Olivia. Should I say something after that? I think I should say something after that. Everyone¡¯s looking at me. Say something. ¡°Yeah.¡± Stupid, stupid, stupid¡­

    ¡°I know what you guys need to keep you occupied,¡± said Bri suddenly with a smile.

    ¡°What is that?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°A pet. Just a small kitten. Or a puppy. This place could use it, there¡¯s no windows for plants or anything.¡±

    ¡°Kitty!¡± exclaimed Ben, bolting upright from his slouching position in his chair. Everyone looked at him. ¡°Sorry, I had a moment. Please continue.¡±

    ¡°Y-,¡± began Bri.

    ¡°I want a kitten now. That¡¯s my vote,¡± interrupted Ben.

    Bri eyed him. He locked eyes with her but remained silent. ¡°S-,¡± she began.

    ¡°I¡¯m done now, please continue,¡± interrupted Ben with a mock innocent smile. Olivia nudged him with an elbow. Stop it. He took the hint.

    ¡°AS I WAS SAYING,¡± said Bri, eying Ben until she made sure he wouldn¡¯t interrupt again. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be the worst thing in the world to have a pet. Like a kitten. Just look at how he reacted.¡±

    Chris groaned and spoke up, ¡°We¡¯re not getting a pet, we can barely take care of ourselves.¡±

    Bri sighed, still smiling. ¡°Spoilsport. Just a joke, anyways.¡± Really?

    ¡°Alas, it is my duty,¡± said Chris. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some food now.¡± He pointed to Ben and Rob. ¡°Don¡¯t buy a kitten or something while I¡¯m gone.¡±

    ¡°I make no promises,¡± said Ben.

    Chris paused for a moment. Olivia could see the gears in his head turning as he debated with himself whether to take the argument bait with the brothers. Don¡¯t do it, you know you¡¯ll get nowhere. Chris seemed to agree with Olivia¡¯s thoughts, exhaling heavily through his nose as he headed out without another word.

    ¡°How was your sightseeing day in Colorado?¡± Amanda asked Bri.

    ¡°I was the tour guide. Took ¡®em hiking around Red Rocks for the morning,¡± said Ben before Bri could get a word in.

    ¡°Oh, is that close by?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Yeah, only twenty minutes away from here,¡± replied Ben.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± asked Olivia. Wait a minute. I hope the answer isn¡¯t ¡®a pile of red rocks¡¯. Then I¡¯ll feel stupid.

    ¡°It¡¯s Red Rocks Amphitheater. It¡¯s a concert venue carved into a giant wall of red rocks in the foothills,¡± explained Bri. ¡°There¡¯s also some light hiking around there.¡±

    ¡°Cool as shit, ain¡¯t it?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°That was everythin¡¯ I was expectin¡¯ from Colorado. Still gettin¡¯ acclimized though, I could feel the lack of air in my fuckin¡¯ lungs,¡± added Rob.

    ¡°You mean acclimatized?¡± asked Bri.

    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±

    ¡°An¡¯ after lunch we hit the Seventy Seven museum.¡± OK, I have no idea what that is. Catching Olivia¡¯s renewed confusion, Ben leaned in and explained, ¡°In ¡®77 the Gulmer started abducting tons of people all across the great plains. Shit, wait, the Gulmer were aliens. Grey guys, looked kind of like salamanders.¡±

    ¡°Oh, like the flying saucer kind?¡± asked Olivia. ¡°Or the Siberian kind?¡±

    ¡°Flying saucer, but real. Their ships were more cigar shaped too. They hit all sorts of farms and little towns. Military couldn¡¯t respond fast enough. A couple supers brought down one of their smaller ships when it wandered too close to Westward. After the feds cleared it out, the city built a full-scale model of the wreck where it landed as a memorial. Turned it into a museum and everything.¡±

    ¡°Why were they taking people?¡±

    Rob shrugged. ¡°Dunno. They weren¡¯t blowin¡¯ anythin¡¯ up. Shields absorbed the worst of what we threw at ¡®em. They got twenty thousand people an¡¯ left.¡±

    ¡°I think we know why. My roommate in college was going for a degree in ecology. Or was it biology? I don¡¯t remember, one of those squishy fields that¡¯s barely science. Twenty thousand is about what you need for a viable population for humans,¡± said Amanda, her expression grim.

    ¡°What do you mean by viable?¡± asked Bri.

    ¡°It means you won¡¯t have any inbreeding until way too many generations for it to matter.¡±

    ¡°What happened then?¡± asked Olivia in the hushed silence that followed.

    ¡°They left,¡± explained Amanda. ¡°Once they had enough people they flew off into the stars with their captives. Not much the rest of humanity can do about it now.¡±

    ¡°Sucks to be them,¡± said Rob.

    ¡°That¡¯s a little cold,¡± said Miya

    ¡°Like she said, not much to do. If I can¡¯t do somethin¡¯, I ain¡¯t stressin¡¯ it.¡± Still though¡­ ¡°Hey, can we have some music? You got some speakers sittin¡¯ there,¡± he said to Amanda, gesturing to her main computer.

    ¡°Sure,¡± she replied, leaning over to dig through a box of cables. She pulled one out and said, ¡°Plug in your phone here.¡±

    Rob hopped out of his chair and complied. Something fast paced and upbeat, with drums and trumpets started playing. Only a few seconds in it cut off.

    ¡°We¡¯re not listening to goddamn ska music,¡± said an irate Amanda. ¡°I draw the line there.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± said Bri, nudging Rob. ¡°It could be metal.¡±

    ¡°Hey, fuck you!¡± called out Ben and Rob.

    They argued for the next ten minutes over what music to play until Chris got back with the food. After sorting out everyone¡¯s orders, they dug in. This is different. I kind of like this food. A nice change from burgers, pizza, and donuts.

    ¡°Hmmm, this isn¡¯t what I ordered,¡± said Miya after a few bites. ¡°Too bland.¡±

    They all smell different, but I can¡¯t really tell which is which. ¡°Uh, I think we all got it sorted out, everyone else has what they wanted, I think,¡± said Bri, double checking her own food. Everyone else nodded.

    ¡°What did you get, Olivia?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Um, this? I don¡¯t know the name.¡±

    ¡°Let me try,¡± said Chris. He took a bite. After chewing for a moment, he said, ¡°This is quite painful.¡± To be fair, I have no idea what I ordered.

    ¡°Come on, pussy,¡± said Ben. He also took a bite. He let out a muffled cry after a moment and shook his head. ¡°Fuck! I regret everything.¡± Um, is he OK? Bri, Rob, and Amanda started laughing.

    Are you guys exaggerating? ¡°It wasn¡¯t that spicy,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°I think you got my thing, Olivia,¡± said Miya. ¡°You take a couple bites?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She looked to Chris and Ben on either side. Chris threw back a bottle of water, while Ben still shook his head.

    ¡°Ow, ow, ow,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Close your mouth, dumbass,¡± said Rob to Ben.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because the pain is comin¡¯ from the peppers oxidizin¡¯ with the air. Close your mouth an¡¯ don¡¯t talk an¡¯ it won¡¯t suck as bad.¡±

    Miya looked between Chris and Ben. ¡°You guys are both pussies.¡±

    ¡°How bad was yours?¡± asked Bri.

    Miya gave the most sinister smile Olivia had ever laid eyes upon. ¡°Seven. And the Thai cooks go easy on Americans, trust me.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to trade back?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Sure. Thanks.¡± They exchanged Styrofoam trays across the table.

    ¡°Wait, so the short Mexican girl likes spicy food,¡± asked Ben with a grin, apparently recovered. Mexican? You called her Aztec before. I get the feeling it matters, but I can¡¯t tell why.

    ¡°I like it, so you can fuck right off. I don¡¯t care if it¡¯s stereotypical or not,¡± said Miya, punctuating her words with a punch to his ribs. He laughed and held a hand to his ribs. Miya continued, shaking her head, ¡°Pathetic, the lot of you.¡±

    The music they had landed on with the arrival of Chris sounded very similar to what Rob originally started playing, though a little smoother and less choppy. I wish I knew how music worked. I think one of those things is kind of like a trumpet. How do I know what trumpet sounds like? I¡¯ve heard drums before, but a trumpet? Whatever it was, it somehow met Amanda¡¯s standards. It was even her playlist.

    Chris returned from the fridge with a few drink refills for the table. As the beat to the song picked up, he tapped his toes against the floor and spun, keeping the glasses upright and preventing any spills. Unlike his usual slow and deliberate motions, this was fast, fluid, and precise.

    ¡°The hell was that?¡± asked Rob, sitting right next to Olivia and getting a full view of the sudden movement

    ¡°I¡¯ve been swing dancing for years,¡± explained Chris, setting down Bri and Rob¡¯s drinks. ¡°This is pretty good dance music.¡±

    Ben choked on his beer. ¡°Swing dancing?¡± repeated Miya, an incredulous look on her face. What¡¯s that? What¡¯s wrong?

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Chris with a shrug. ¡°I took it up in high school.¡±

    After a heartbeat, Miya asked, ¡°Not football?¡±

    ¡°That too. Get up, I¡¯ll show you.¡±

    She hesitated, a response aught in her throat. Bri jumped up, food forgotten. Chris called out a song for Amanda to find and took Bri through some basic steps. The brothers and Amanda even joined in, all fumbling through the same moves. They laughed, danced, joked, and drank deep into the night.

 4: Boo

    Chapter 4: Boo

    Ben waved to Olivia from the other roof. She took the cue and glided over, landing on the gravel of the roof with a crunch. Ben yanked open the door to the interior of the apartment building and led the way inside.

    ¡°No cameras or anythin¡¯ that I found. Cops were here, an¡¯ there¡¯s a good chance there¡¯s listinin¡¯ devices that I missed, so watch what you say,¡± he explained as they walked down the familiar staircase.

    ¡°Should we be here then?¡± she asked. This was your idea.

    ¡°We¡¯re fine. Can¡¯t take too long, though.¡± They reached the fourth floor of the building, exiting the stairwell and entering the building proper.

    They came to Olivia¡¯s old apartment, the one she¡¯d used for the first couple weeks. ¡°Fair warnin¡¯, Johnny Law went through everythin¡¯,¡± said Ben as he stood off to the side of the door, making room for her to enter and passing her a small duffel bag.

    ¡°OK.¡±

    She went in through the broken down door, passing her scratched-in tallies by the door and reached the old couch she¡¯d used as a bed. Ben waited by the front door, keeping watch. It smells a little different. Other people have been here, just not recently.

    Scuffs near the feet of the couch further marred the old, shoddy carpet. A scavenged chair leaned against the wall of one of the bedrooms she never used. Stupid backrest. Its shattered leg was new, though. She checked the hallway closet where she¡¯d kept most of her old clothes. I remember there being more in here.

    Oh, hey, that alarm clock¡¯s still here. If I remember right, it just needs some batteries. She grabbed that and shoved it in the bag. The water is gone. Not much here besides some trash I never got around to cleaning up. The blankets are way old, and dusty. Not much else I need from here. My backpack was at Ben¡¯s old apartment, and that¡¯s the only other thing I can think of.

    She grabbed the last pair of pants and the two shirts that didn¡¯t smell too funny and stuffed them in the small bag Ben had loaned her. Nothing else. She still paused at the hallway leading to the apartment¡¯s front door, looking back over her shoulder.

    ¡°We good?¡± asked Ben, his masked face tilting to the side a few degrees.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Olivia, leaving the apartment and curling her tail out of the way as she closed the door.

    ¡°That it?¡± he asked, motioning to her visibly empty bag. ¡°No keepsakes? No closure? No nothin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she replied with a shake of her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll miss this place. I mean, it was better than nothing, but I want to move on, you know?¡±

    ¡°I hear you. Meet up at the strip mall, grab a bite? It ain¡¯t that late¡±

    Donut mall! ¡°OK!¡±

    Olivia passed the bag to him to keep her wings clear as they parted ways, her to the roof and him to the ground floor. The shadows in the building almost seemed to reach out to her as she walked. Her pace picked up.

    She took flight once she reached the roof. That was¡­ I don¡¯t know. Oh well, there¡¯s no reason to go back anymore. I was kind of afraid there¡¯d be rotting food in there, actually. Bri had left earlier that day, driving off in her car stuffed with stuff, and everyone returned to their normal routines. She was nice. If I don¡¯t act big and scary, people are nicer. Who knew?

    She passed over the neighborhood. She¡¯d never actually walked in this area since she figured out the whole flying thing. Nothing but old houses, nothing food-wise that she would have felt comfortable taking. The power lines throughout the neighborhood kept her high up, though the lack of wind that night made flying easier than normal.

    At the edge of the roof of her favorite building to overlook the donut mall, she took a seat and waited, enjoying the quiet moment. After a minute and some hollow metallic echoing sounds, Ben climbed and teleported up to join her, bag slung over his shoulder instead of his rifle.

    ¡°Well that was quick. Hear any sirens comin¡¯?¡± he said once he got within normal speaking distance.

    She paused. Nothing that really stands out. That ringing sound is starting to get irritating. Actually, other than that, there¡¯s not much at all. Isn¡¯t it a Friday night? ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Cool.¡±

    Ben pulled out the wallet, the one that said ¡°Bad Motherfucker¡± in red block letters on the outside. ¡°Do I have cash?¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°I do! Want a burger?¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± I can¡¯t ever think of a reason to turn down food.

    He started for the fast food joint below them. He didn¡¯t take off the mask or anything.

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going in like that?¡±

    He stopped, spreading his arms apart and looking down at himself. ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just¡­ you know. The mask. Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, you can¡¯t pay a fast food worker enough to give a shit. So long as they know I¡¯m payin¡¯ an¡¯ not shootin¡¯, they don¡¯t care. This ain¡¯t too outta the ordinary. Supers still gotta eat.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t think I should walk in there. Because, you know¡­¡± she trailed off. But maybe I could.

    ¡°You can read the drive thru menu from here, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Of course I can. Those giant, bright panels outside with all the colorful pictures and words on them? How could you not?

    ¡°So read it. Let me know what you want.¡±

    She considered her options. ¡°Um, the bacon burger thing. Oh, yeah, the meal. As a meal.¡± However you say that.

    ¡°Anythin¡¯ else? Want a shake?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± Why not? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve had one before. Or can remember having one, whatever. It¡¯s under deserts, it must be sweet.

    ¡°Flavor?¡±

    Olivia glanced at the menu again, finding the bright desert menu in the lower right corner. Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. The cake they¡¯d bought a week ago on a whim, the white cake with white vanilla icing that Ben insisted was called a Nathan Bedford Forrest cake, tasted good. ¡°Vanilla,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Really? The borin¡¯ Superman of shake flavors?¡±

    Boring is great! Nothing is shooting at you when things are boring. ¡°Why not?¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± he said with a shrug.

    Ben dropped the bag and went back down the way he came. Olivia watched as he blatantly teleported up to the store and walked through the door, mask and black clothes and all. I really hope the worker guy in there doesn¡¯t shoot lasers or something. A figure caught her eye on a distant rooftop. The moment she focused on it, it vanished. I keep thinking I¡¯m seeing that, but I¡¯m not sure. Oh, Ben¡¯s coming back! I smell food!

    After a minute, he rejoined her on the rooftop. ¡°Jumpy little fry cook. Your plain-ass shake,¡± he said, offering the large cup with a straw sticking out of the lid. He joined her in sitting on the edge of the roof and lifted his mask to eat, leaving it resting on the top of his head. They divided the burgers and ate.

    ¡°What do you have against vanilla?¡± asked Olivia after a moment.

    ¡°Nothin¡¯s wrong with it, just borin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Well, I liked that vanilla cake we got earlier.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. The Nathan Bedford Forrest cake. An¡¯ no one got the joke, either. Disappointin¡¯,¡± he said around a mouthful of chicken sandwich. Please stop that. Please?

    She pushed on. ¡°Do you need to explain the joke then? Because, you know, only you laughed at that.¡±

    ¡°Nathan Bedford Forrest was a founder of the KKK.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand the significance of callin¡¯ a pure white cake with pure white icin¡¯ after a KKK dude, do you?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± Because of course not.

    ¡°White supremacist group.¡± He paused. Go on. ¡°They don¡¯t like people who ain¡¯t white. They¡¯ll word it differently, so that they ain¡¯t soundin¡¯ like the bad guys, but the core of the matter is they hate anyone who ain¡¯t white, or just anyone who ain¡¯t them. Despicable fellas.¡± That¡¯s kind of depressing. Ben almost squirmed in his seat as he talked. Is he uncomfortable? We sit on these things all the time. Or is it what he¡¯s talking about? ¡°So if you put colorful sprinkles on a white cake, it¡¯s a desegregation cake. Now, speakin¡¯ as a white dude, I don¡¯t¡¯ think I¡¯m really qualified to speak on race an¡¯ stuff. Just sayin¡¯.¡±

    They finished their food in silence after that. Mmmm. Shake good. Burger tasted a bit off, though. At some point the light of the drive thru menu started dimming over the course of a few seconds then flickering back to life in a regular pattern.

    Ben crumpled the last of his three value menu burger wrappers and threw it in the bag. ¡°Had just as much fast food in the past month as the rest of the year combined,¡± he commented.

    She nodded in agreement, still drinking. I can¡¯t remember ever having much healthy stuff. This isn¡¯t that bad though. Right? It¡¯s meat. Meat is good.

    ¡°No complaints? From a chick?¡± asked Ben. What? ¡°The others, minus Rob, were all moanin¡¯ ¡®bout that earlier.¡±

    She shrugged. I don¡¯t really mind. I mean, it¡¯s better fresh¡­ ¡°You don¡¯t care?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Nah. I¡¯m, an¡¯ Rob, are some of those infuriatin¡¯ fucks who don¡¯t gain weight no matter how much they eat. It¡¯ll kick my ass when I get older, but that¡¯s tomorrow¡¯s problem¡±

    All the streetlights died. Olivia looked around. Some lights twinkled off in the distance; nothing near them. This is strange. Ben just sighed. Or not?

    ¡°Come on, people!¡± he exclaimed to the sky. ¡°I thought we got this shit sorted out last year!¡±

    Um¡­ ¡°What?¡± I am just full of clarification questions today, aren¡¯t I?

    ¡°The power¡¯s been spotty since forever. But they said they got their shit together. Hell, that was part of the mayor¡¯s campaign. Or was it the governor¡¯s? Whatever.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem very good.¡±

    ¡°Well, they say once New York goes four months without a blackout, the recession slash depression thing we¡¯ve been in will be over. Still, we¡¯ve got a fraction of the population of what New York¡¯s got, so fuck us, I guess. Anythin¡¯ you wanna do while we¡¯re out?¡±

    ¡°No. Not that I can think of. And thank you. For, you know, the food.¡±

    He laughed as he put his mask back into place. ¡°No problem. See you back at the shop?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± It¡¯s too quiet out right now. Kind of dark now, too. Why is it so dark? That¡¯s never been a problem before.

    He started jumping down to the ground, and Olivia took flight back to the lair. The lack of wind made the air noticeably hotter, and thickened the pollution. Is that¡­ tapping I hear? She looked behind her. Nothing but empty air and a handful of lights on the horizon. Weird.

    She landed at the auto shop, ahead of Ben, at the back entrance, out of view of the main street. Not that it matters, the whole city is still tonight. She went in, closing the door behind her. Home sweet home. And everyone is almost exactly where we left them. Something seems off, though.

    There was Amanda, hunched over her desk. Rob flicked a lever of a gear contraption thing, a small model trebuchet which swung, then returned to its original position with rattles and clanks from within. Rob and Chris talked. Well, Chris talked, trying to explain exactly what it is he did in the MHU, and Rob maintained a sort of glazed expression. They haven¡¯t moved. At all. But no Miya. Olivia sniffed the air. Nowhere. And I don¡¯t hear her either. Is she alright? I didn¡¯t hear any movement from out back.

    Olivia walked up to the privacy curtain around Miya¡¯s bed. ¡°Miya? Are you there?¡± With no response, she poked her head through the curtain to find an empty bed.

    Olivia called out to Rob and Chris. ¡°Hi guys. Um, do you know where Miya is?¡±

    ¡°No, why?¡± asked Chris, knitting his eyebrows together.

    ¡°She¡¯s not out back, and she¡¯s not here. She¡¯s usually asleep by now.¡±

    Rob and Chris exchanged glances. Uh oh. It¡¯s never good when people do that. They got up. ¡°That¡¯s a good point. Where the fuck is she?¡± said Rob, looking around the main room.

    Chris got up and checked the offices out front. He swiftly returned with a shake of his head. ¡°Hey, Amanda, you¡¯ve got cameras all around this place, right?¡± he asked as Rob jogged up to a large metal box he¡¯d pulled from the back of his truck yesterday.

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡± responded Amanda, not looking up from her tablet.

    ¡°Miya¡¯s missing. Olivia didn¡¯t see or smell anything,¡± responded Chris.

    Rob yanked on a small lever on the front of the box. Well-oiled machinery worked within, and the lid popped open.

    Amanda shoved the tablet along the desk off to her right and clicked on a mouse to get the central computer¡¯s monitor running. ¡°What, from here? How? Also, hi, Olivia.¡±

    ¡°Oh, hi.¡± said Olivia as Amanda opened the feeds for the cameras. Let¡¯s not get distracted now.

    Amanda rewound the camera footage. ¡°Just a couple minutes back,¡± said Chris.

    Olivia looked over her shoulder to Rob. Keeping his eyes on the nearest door, he strapped a knife to his right forearm. She caught a glimpse of some wires extending towards his hand. A crowbar rested on the box beside him.

    Olivia returned her attention to Amanda¡¯s screen. ¡°The fuck?¡± said Amanda. Well that can¡¯t be good.

    Static. That¡¯s all that was on the screen. The static moved around in a vaguely humanoid shape, but that was somewhat less helpful than the real picture would have been. Amanda rewound back a minute, and everything became clear.

    The back of the shop remained empty, as usual, save for Rob¡¯s BAT. Over the course of the minute, the edges of the feed became blurrier and blurrier, gradually swallowing up their whole view. Then movement happened.

    ¡°What¡¯s the live feed look like?¡± asked Chris.

    Wait, when did the lights get so dim?

    ¡°WH-¡± Something cut off Rob¡¯s shout.

    Olivia spun around, her tail nearly taking out Chris. Nothing. Nothing by the box, or in the lair, or by the doors. The crowbar hadn¡¯t moved. Where¡¯d he go? Still smells like he¡¯s here. I didn¡¯t hear anything or anyone else.

    ¡°Amanda,¡± barked Chris.

    ¡°On it, where the fuck did my phone go,¡± she said, jumping to her feet and whipping her head from side to side, searching her desk.

    Olivia took a cautious step forward. Nothing happened. She stalked over to where Rob had been. Still nothing. Where¡¯d he go?

    ¡°Something¡¯s got it out for us. Stay here or run for it outside?¡± Amanda asked Chris from under the desk where she¡¯d continued her search. Ben.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Ben?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Ben?¡± Something caught the corner of Olivia¡¯s eye. She spun in that direction, only to find a whole lot of nothing, at least nothing out of the ordinary.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, but he can take care of himself,¡± said Chris from behind Olivia. ¡°Amanda, is there any way¡­¡± He trailed off. Amanda was gone. I did not notice that. How did I not notice that?

    Chris ducked his head under the desk as Olivia scanned the lair for a target, any target at all. Where are they?

    ¡°Shit, shit, shit¡± Chris muttered under his breath in rapid succession. To Olivia he said, ¡°You see anything?¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, instead preferring to continue her search of the lair for any clues at all. I¡¯m hissing, aren¡¯t I? Doesn¡¯t matter. Give me back my friends.

    ¡°Olivia? You still with me?¡±

    Right. Threatening. Sorry. She turned her head and nodded to him over her shoulder. Then something blurry and dark caught her eye again. Come here, you. She slashed at where she estimated the blur would be, moving at that speed. Harder to do when there were no accompanying sounds she¡¯d grown used to taking advantage of. She hit nothing.

    She growled in frustration. ¡°What was that?¡± asked Chris.

    She shot him a questioning look. You didn¡¯t see that? He wasn¡¯t looking at her, instead keeping watch wherever she wasn¡¯t looking. ¡°I saw something,¡± she managed

    Right. Focus. ¡°Need to get out of here,¡± he said, backing up towards the nearest door.

    She followed watching wherever he wasn¡¯t. This is frustrating, not knowing what to hit. The oppressive and absolute silence, beyond her and Chris¡¯s breathing, started to grate. Hate not knowing what¡¯s going on. He turned around to open the door once he reached it. Olivia took a moment to look around at the lair. Looking exactly like home, just devoid of people.

    ¡°F-¡± Whatever Chris said was cut off. No. The door remained closed. Olivia roared. Get out here. Something dark came from overhead.

 5: Bad Alcohol

    Chapter 5: Bad Alcohol

    Ben entered the old, familiar apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Good to be back. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. I guess whoever was here last left all the lights on. He opened the fridge and browsed the selection of food within. Apple, sure. Ooh, honeycrisp, mom did remember! He peeled off the sticker, threw it in the trash, then hopped up on the counter and began munching. About three bites in, he jumped back down to the floor. Mom hates it when we sit on the counters. Forgot about that.

    He walked along the thick carpet in the living room and plopped down on the dark blue couch, across from the small flat screen TV they rarely used anymore since the triplet brothers had flown the coop. Another substantial chunk of apple gone, the juicy crunch of his bite breaking the silence of the apartment. He stretched out on the couch in the meantime, a contented smile on his face.

    Mom and dad should be back by tonight from their little second honeymoon. Definitely need to wait for them. Rob and Sam should get here soon too. He finished off the apple. Need something to do. He wriggled on the couch, angling so that he could pull his phone out of his pocket.

    Did I throw away that apple core? I think I did. He scrolled through the various updates and memes of the day. This got old after about ten minutes, or twenty, or thirty. He lost count at some point. He took a moment to study the old Pakistani rug dad had brought home from deployment and hung up like a tapestry over the couch. Dad had surprised the whole family that day, nonchalantly eating some potato chips at the kitchen when had brought the boys home from school. Two lighthouse paintings that mom favored flanked it, gifts from her own parents in Maine. Been forever since I even thought of school since I dropped out of high school. He frowned. Wait, parents would have thrown a fit if I¡¯d done that. I didn¡¯t do that.

    Need something to do. He pushed himself out of the cushions of the brown couch, stood with purpose, then promptly forgot why he stood in the first place. Need something to do, right. Dad¡¯s birthday gift shouldn¡¯t arrive for another couple days. Ben walked back into the kitchen, opening various cupboards. Got enough food, dishes are all clean. Damn. He shut the last door, the rattling of the bowls the only sound in the apartment. Or was it cups? Whatever.

    May as well check on the old room, see if there¡¯s any evidence of dad¡¯s claims that they¡¯re renting it out to a hobo while we¡¯re gone. A quick five steps down the hall between the living room and the kitchen later, and he poked his head in the mostly empty room, with the bunk bed and normal bed pushed against the wall. Nothing else in here? He caught sight of a Pakistani rug, hung up like a tapestry along the wall opposite the beds, flanked by two lighthouse paintings.

    Oh, I guess they started decorating when we moved out. Then why are our beds still here? Wait, we didn¡¯t move out to college that long ago, I guess that makes sense. But wait, that was years ago. I¡¯ve never been to college. That pissed mom off.

    Wait, I have to be honest with myself. Since when did I care about what mom thinks?

    His head in a fog, he turned around and began fishing his keys out of his other pocket as he walked. Need some air. A handful of steps later, he stared at the blank expanse of wall where the door should have been. Where the fuck is the door? Why the hell-

    ***

    Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Good to be back. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and browsed the selection of food within. Apple, sure. He peeled off the sticker, threw it in the trash, and hopped up on the counter and began munching. About three bites in, jumped back down to the floor. Mom hates it when we sit on the counters. Forgot about that.

    He paced until he finished his apple. Need something to do. From what I can tell, everything¡¯s covered for the party, though. Cake was in the fridge, presents for dad are incoming, can¡¯t think of anything else. He pulled out and twirled his keys around his finger as he continued to pace. His customary smile felt forced, somehow. Something screamed at the back of his mind, though he couldn¡¯t pinpoint what it said.

    Just need to wait for the rest of the family to get here. Just want to see dad again, now that he¡¯s finally retired from the Marines. Honestly, I hope he keeps mom from drinking too hard. Again. But this is still boring, and I¡¯ve only been here for about ten minutes. Or has it been thirty? Whatever.

    May as well check on those plants mom keeps by the window sill. Those bulb things with water in them are cool and all, but then mom keeps forgetting about them. He entered the living room. Huh. Could have sworn there was a window in here. Their room, maybe? I know she doesn¡¯t trust the three of us to keep a thing alive.

    He poked his head into the master bedroom. Queen sized bed, a dresser with a large attached mirror for mom¡¯s various accessories, a sizable painting of a mountain background over the bed. No window in here, either. Bathroom? No window.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    This is weird. I don¡¯t remember there being absolutely no windows in here. Hell, how long have they even had this place? He poked his head into his old bedroom, the one he had shared with his brothers. Beds, a desk, my backpack, and no fucking window. The hell?

    He ducked back out to the hallway and scratched the back of his head. I don¡¯t remember the no window thing. That is definitely not right. I can¡¯t remember how I got here, actually. Hell, I can¡¯t even remember-

    ***

    Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Good to be back. He kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen. He opened the fridge and browsed the selection of food within, though he closed the door a minute later. Too quiet right now.

    He bounced on his toes for a bit, first considering crashing on the dark red couch in the living room, then at the dining table. Waiting for dad. Just gotta wait for dad. And mom, I guess. He drummed his hands against a nearby countertop, a rapid beat that could¡¯ve belonged in any rock song.

    Need something to do. It¡¯s too quiet here. No cars or neighbors or anything. He eyed the empty bottles on the counter in the corner. He sighed. Mom been drinking again? I thought she got over that. Wait, when? She never got over that. Wait, she did. Last year? Last time dad got back? Ben shook his head, willing the cloudiness to go away and the memories to return.

    Dad came back? When? That doesn¡¯t seem right, don¡¯t know why. But I¡¯m waiting for him right now. So why can¡¯t I remember-

    ***

    Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Guess I¡¯m back. He began the process of kicking off his shoes, then something stopped him. I¡¯ve done this before. Maybe. He moved on, not bothering to remove his shoes.

    Gotta wait for dad. Gotta wait for Sam. Gotta wait for Rob. Just gotta wait. Just a bit longer. He passed by the cracked wall where that red and white lighthouse picture used to hang. I need something to do. Hell, what am I doing? Not here, in general. This is Maryland. But I was living in Colorado. No, I am living in Colorado. Last thing I remember, Rob was talking about Bri the day before she visited. Then what-

    ***

    Ben entered the apartment, the door shut firm behind him. Home sweet fucking home. He kicked an empty bottle out of the way as he worked his way inwards. Half these lights need changing. The fuck is mom doing? The hell is dad doing? Why are me, Sam, and Rob even bothering coming here? An aluminum beer can crunched under his foot. He spat and kept walking.

    Honestly, she couldn¡¯t even be bothered to notice her own damn kids. We slip out in the middle of the night and it takes her a week to even send a damn text asking where we are. Why are we checking up on her? Why bother? This is dad¡¯s problem.

    What the fuck am I even saying? Dad¡¯s dead in a miserable sand pit a thousand miles away.

    ***

    Ben¡¯s eyes cracked open, taking far too long to focus in the dark room he found himself in. A bare handful of dim yellow lights provided only the lowest amount of illumination possible. His heart beat ever so slowly, in sync with his rasping breath. He heard air moving through another throat off to his right. The muscles of his neck twitched to life, tensing as he tried to simply move his head to give himself a view of something besides a pitted old ceiling. He paused for a moment, catching sight of what looked suspiciously like a crude smiley face etched into the plaster.

    After a few seconds of effort, his head flopped to the side, giving him a blurry view of a tiny figure. Beside him lay Miya, out cold on a wooden table much like the one he found himself on. Several wires attached to different points along her skull lead to a braided bundle, dropping off the head of her table and out of sight. Ben twitched, feeling similar wires on his own head. Bad. What? Help. His jaw refused to cooperate, merely splitting his mouth open to allow his dry tongue to flop out. Motion caught the corner of his eye. His heartbeat picked up a notch. He bent his neck a few degrees, his body responding slowly but surely.

    Past his feet he caught sight of a naked humanoid figure, hunched over a screen. He regained enough control to focus on the screen. Utterly alien script scrolled past, meaningless to Ben, though the figure seemed to devote its whole attention to it. On some unknown signal, it bolted upright and scuttled out of view. Its movements were inhuman, joints bending at the wrong angles, or joints where there shouldn¡¯t have been any.

    I don¡¯t want to be here. As an experiment, he took a deep breath. His muscles responded better than before, even if it was something so simple. The haze in his head was dissipating. He next tried his arm, getting it to at least twitch and bend slightly. His fingers followed suit a moment later. Great. Fantastic.  He froze as the figure scuttled back into view, hunching back over the screen. Ben counted ten heartbeats before trying to move again. A grunt escaped his throat. The figure stiffened. Fuck. No.

    It tapped a few buttons on the screen and twisted to gaze right at him with a dozen black marbles embedded in what looked like its nose-less and ear-less face. Ben fought to get up, to fight back, to escape, to do anything. His eyes only rolled back up as his arm flopped uselessly at his side.

    Darkness overtook him once more.

    ***

    Ben found himself standing, not in an old, familiar apartment, but a gigantic kitchen. A colossal granite countertop dominated the center of the room, absolutely clean and spotless. Rich. Several kitchen appliances lined the counter on the far wall. Ben squinted, watching them change from blender to set of steak knives to a mixing bowl, all of which looked brand new and never used.

    ¡°Bwah?¡± he muttered to himself, struggling to comprehend exactly what it was he was watching.

    A sharp, surprised intake of breath caused him to whip around, catching sight of a woman. Miya stood before him with an expression of shock and rage. Rather than the partially grown out shaved head he¡¯d always known on her, her black hair reached down past her shoulders. And, impossibly, she stood a little taller, probably an inch over five feet. The acne scarring along her cheeks had vanished, or perhaps that was simply the makeup. The perfume and dress, however, he¡¯d never seen or smelled before.

    ¡°Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?¡± demanded Miya.

    ¡°Miya!¡± he began in a rush. ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this, but there¡¯s some freaky alien holding us captive. We¡¯ve got wires attached to our head and everything. You gotta snap out of it!¡±

    The shock and wrath on her face morphed into confusion. He opened his mouth to continue-

    ***

    Ben found himself standing, not in an old, familiar apartment, but a gigantic kitchen.

 6: Wrath, Thunder, Glory

    Chapter 6: Wrath, Thunder, Glory

    Miya poured herself a glass of whisky from a bottle in the cabinet. She¡¯d never had whisky before, but it tasted just as great as she expected. Like victory.

    She surveyed her own little domain, a mansion just outside the city. It had taken some time to make it her own and toss out all of Sanchez¡¯ old things, but she had all the time in the world. He wasn¡¯t around to tell her no, or much of anything else since she¡¯d killed him. The pictures and old memorabilia had been the first to go, followed by his and Jess¡¯ old clothes to be replaced by Miya¡¯s own.

    Their interior decorating was a little restrained for Miya¡¯s taste. The two had plenty of money, it was their stashes and credit cards Miya was using. What¡¯s the point of all that money if you¡¯re not going to show it off? She¡¯d never been able to afford the dress she wore ever before, though she¡¯d wanted it ever since spotting it in a Phoenix mall last year.

    Her leisurely stroll took her to the old den. She¡¯d tossed most of the rugged homemade wooden furniture within, though the incredibly comfortable armchair stayed. With her glass of whisky half finished, she leaned back in the chair. She turned on the tv for indistinct background noise and swirled her glass, plotting her next move.

    Overlord is still out there. Killing him is going to be even better than killing Sanchez. Fuck him fro trying to fuck with me. I¡¯ll need to figure out where he¡¯s hiding. Maybe Sanchez had some clue. I¡¯ll go through some of his old stuff. Later, though. I¡¯ve got time. May as well enjoy it. But it would be so good to strangle the life out of him. Or maybe I could just stab him. Just a little one, then another. Whatever, I just want to see the look on his face.

    Or maybe I should find Don first. Yeah, maybe him instead. If Overlord is going after mages, he was the only other person who knew I could use magic. He might know something about where Overlord is, too. Greasy bastard, selling me out like that. After all I paid him, too.

    She continued to sip on her whisky, the TV murmuring out indistinct noise over blurry shapes she didn¡¯t bother to focus on. Vengeance was the only entertainment she needed, for hours and hours until the count of time slipped from her mind. Maybe I should grab something to eat. He probably had some really nice steak or something in the freezer. That would be fucking tasty. She set down the half full glass of whisky and headed towards the rest of the mansion.

    Her breath caught in her throat as she turned the corner. A stranger stood in the kitchen. Her kitchen. His head hung low like a wounded animal, shoulders tense. One hand clenched into a fist tapped against his thigh in a nervous tick.

    ¡°Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?¡± demanded Miya. He spun around at the sound of her voice. Miya flinched at the vaguely familiar face, dark eyes boring into her. Where have I seen you before? Shouldn¡¯t you have some stupid grin on your face?

    ¡°Miya!¡± he began in a rush, his voice strained and raw. ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this, but there¡¯s some freaky alien holding us captive. We¡¯ve got wires attached to our head and everything. You gotta snap out of it!¡±

    She took a step back to keep her distance from the lunatic. What the fuck? No, that can¡¯t be right. That¡¯s insane. And I escaped Overlord. I killed my way through those doctors and bots and got out. No more wires.

    The stranger opened his mouth to continue-

    ***

    Miya poured herself a glass of whisky from a bottle in the cabinet. She¡¯d never had whisky before, but it tasted just as great as she expected.

    ¡°Ahh, fuck,¡± came a ragged but familiar voice from the kitchen. What the fuck?

    She hurried to the source of the voice, to find a familiar man in jeans and a hoodie leaning his head and arm against the wall, his hands clenched into fists. He murmured something under his breath and tapped his head against the doorframe. ¡°I¡¯m a dumbass. Can¡¯t believe I fell for that shit.¡± He slammed his fist into the wall, leaving a slight trail of blood on the otherwise pristine cream colored paint.

    Miya froze at the sight. Where do I know him from? She cleared her throat, catching his attention. His eyes snapped open.

    ¡°I see you got a great fuckin¡¯ gig goin¡¯ on here, but none of this is real,¡± he barked.

    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± Miya demanded with voice raised.

    ¡°Quit fuckin¡¯ lyin¡¯ to yourself. You ain¡¯t over five feet tall, you still got a shaved head, you still got scars on your damn arms from Overlord. Fuckin¡¯ wake up.¡±

    She glanced down at her completely normal and unscarred arms as she folded them across her chest, standing up as straight as she could. ¡°Well fuck you too. Get out.¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking.¡± Miya took a deep breath, preparing herself, Magic had been sluggish and unresponsive since¡­ Wait, when was it weird? I¡¯m fine. Nothing is wrong.

    The man spread his stance apart a few inches. ¡°Look, I ain¡¯t spendin¡¯ the rest of my life droolin¡¯ on a damn table. Gotta get us outta here one way or another.¡±

    Before the last word even left his mouth, the man tensed as if ready to strike, even from ten feet away. Without any warning, he suddenly stood right in front of her, hand already swinging to strike an open palm on her ear. Caught off guard, she struck out blindly at him, finding only empty air as he teleported out of her reach.

    ¡°Come on, snap out of it now,¡± he mocked her through the ringing in her ear. He teleported in again, with a strike aimed at her gut. This time she rushed forward, not bothering to throw a punch of her own. All she needed was skin contact, which she got has he brought his other hand up to stop her.

    He screamed as the bones in his finger shattered. Miya allowed herself a smile. Her ear didn¡¯t even hurt that bad, once the shock wore off. His good hand struck out lightning quick, catching her in the throat. All concentration on her magic vanished as she struggled to breath. He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her, throwing her to the ground

    ¡°Fuckin¡¯ wake up!¡± he shouted. ¡°If we don¡¯t we¡¯re all fucked!¡±

    She struggled to breath through her bruised windpipe. No, I¡¯m so close. I¡¯ve got to kill Don and Overlord and...

    ***

    Miya poured herself a glass of whisky from a bottle in the cabinet. She¡¯d never had whisky before, but it tasted just as great as she expected. Sanchez¡¯ mansion, now her fortress, served as her home for the moment as she plotted her vengeance. The next sip seemed to lose some of its appeal, and she set down the half empty glass next to the bottle.

    ¡°That was real fuckin¡¯ stupid of me. My bad,¡± called out a vaguely familiar voice from the kitchen. What the fuck?

    She stormed off, ready to behead the intruder. A nagging thought at the back of her head stopped her. That voice was familiar. Don¡¯t know where from though. She poked her head around the corner to the kitchen, spotting a familiar man in jeans and a dark grey hoodie leaning his hip against the granite countertop. He held no weapons she could see.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he said with a wave.

    Miya abandoned hiding behind the wall to face him fully. ¡°Who are you and what are you doing in here?¡± she demanded.

    His jaw clenched for a brief moment, but it relaxed as he asked, ¡°Do you not remember one minute ago?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I was drinking.¡±

    ¡°Remember me?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± she replied with a shake of her head.

    A brief look of bafflement crossed his face. ¡°I¡¯m Ben.¡±

    Recognition flooded Miya¡¯s mind. ¡°Oh, shit! That¡¯s right. What are you doing here?¡± That¡¯s where I know this guy from. The group that¡­ fought Sanchez? Whatever, they¡¯re helpful.

    ¡°Checkin¡¯ in, I guess. Nice gig you got goin¡¯ here.¡±

    ¡°Why thank you. It¡¯s secure enough for what I need.¡±

    ¡°I see that,¡± he said, eyeing the iron bars over the windows, sticking out like sore thumbs from the rest of the house. She followed his sight, frowning. Were those always there? No, I put them there. ¡°So, dressin¡¯ up in a nice house lately? Anythin¡¯ else?¡±

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

    A broad smile split his face. ¡°Of course. My bad. How you been fillin¡¯ the time? What¡¯s goin¡¯ on here?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been tossing all of Sanchez¡¯ old things. Planning on how to get back at Overlord. Want to help?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, fuck yeah.¡± I knew there was a reason I liked you. ¡°But Sanchez?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I killed him, remember? This is his house.¡±

    He nodded along, smile fading as he considered her. ¡°Killed Sanchez, huh? How?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± That¡¯s a dumb question. Who cares?

    ¡°How did you kill him? Bullets, knives, asthma?¡±

    ¡°Asthma?¡± she asked with a laugh.

    ¡°Magic!¡± he said with a wave of his hands.

    ¡°No. No I¡­¡± she trailed off, searching her memory. I didn¡¯t just shoot him, that would have been too easy for him. But he was shot. I guess I did shoot him. ¡°I shot him. How don¡¯t you remember this?¡±

    ¡°You just fuckin¡¯ forgot me,¡± he replied, smile returning.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, sucks to suck,¡± she grumbled. She took a seat at one of three bar stools along the counter across from the sink.

    ¡°Was Sanchez the one that did all that science shit to you?¡±

    ¡°What? No. That was Overlord. But I escaped, it''s fine. Everything is fine,¡± she replied, waving him off.

    ¡°Everythin¡¯,¡± he repeated, eyeing her arms for some reason. ¡°So you escaped Overlord. Wanna kill him, fair enough. Why kill Sanchez? Only reason you ever met him was cuz Overlord sold you off to him.¡±

    ¡°What? No. I¡­¡± No, that¡¯s not right. Don sold me out, he has to die. Overlord fucked with me, he has to die. Sanchez fucked with me, he died. ¡°Shut up.¡±

    ¡°Ever get the feelin¡¯ somethin¡¯ else is fuckin¡¯ with us?¡±

    ¡°In general or right now?¡±

    ¡°Now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t lie. If you escaped Overlord, why you gun for Sanchez? Can¡¯t even remember how.¡±

    Miya bit her lip. Fuck. I can¡¯t remember. Something is fucking with my head. Don sold me out. Overlord experimented on me and passed me off to Sanchez. And Sanchez is dead, and I didn¡¯t fucking do it. I¡¯m just squatting in his house.

    Ben chuckled. Miya stared at him as if he¡¯d lost his mind. What could possibly be funny right now? ¡°This is stupid. This is so goddamn stupid.¡±

    ¡°Ben?¡± she asked cautiously, at the edge of her seat.

    ¡°You figure it out yet? Look pretty pissed.¡±

    She closed her eyes and looked down at the table for a moment. ¡°I think I was out back, behind the lair. I was trying to get this one carving to work, when I saw some shadow guy out of the corner of my eye. I jumped up, then I was here until you popped in. What about you?¡±

    ***

    A hiss of air forced its way through Miya¡¯s parched throat. With some effort, she cracked her eyes open and immediately regretted it. She found herself in a horribly familiar room, her body paralyzed just as before. Even breathing took effort. No, not again. She felt sweat gather under the wires running on her head. Get it off, get it off. Her body refused to respond, even as she tried to get up, to scream, to fight.

    A creature, only human at first glance, stood over Chris to her side. It wore a length of metal clasped firmly over its too long forearm. Light shone out from it, reflecting off of the dozen black eyes fixed on Chris. It shifted, holding its arm over his chest for a couple seconds, before withdrawing and skittering out of her sight.

    After a minute, Miya finally managed to fold her head down, catching sight of her tormentor once more. I¡¯m going to kill that thing. It hunched over a screen embedded in the wall, with a soft light blinking in the lower left corner. The colors seemed to swirl together, and Miya felt as if there were others she couldn¡¯t quite see. The creature tapped the screen, dismissing the blinking light, and darkness overtook Miya once more.

    ***

    Suddenly, Miya found herself seated at a familiar table. She got up from her chair as the scream of rage building in her throat morphed into a confused grunt. Before she could get her bearings, someone said, ¡°Oh, hi Miya!¡± Bare feet slapped on the concrete in a run.

    She turned to the source right as something hit her at chest height. That something proceeded to crush her torso, and Miya¡¯s throat let out a squeak as air was forced from her lungs. The pressure on her chest eased off, the stars in her eyes faded, and the unknown person took a step back. Miya got a good look at her assailant, a small, teenage girl only an inch or two taller, with messy brown hair, a t-shirt and cargo pants both a couple sizes too big, and a wide smile. Who is this? And come to think of it, where am I?

    She blinked, finally getting a good look at the room she found herself in. It was the shop. Same folding plastic table near the center with the various chairs they¡¯d scrounged up. Amanda¡¯s desks nearby against the wall, covered in all sorts of fancy techie gadgets. The pseudo-bedroom area, with the dividing curtains Ben and Chris had put up almost a month ago.

    It wasn¡¯t quite the same as she remembered, however. The lighting actually worked and the floor had a remarkable lack of old oil and grease stains. Everything is less crappy. The table is even clean. Then Miya looked over the other girl¡¯s shoulders, where she couldn¡¯t see. There she saw what she remembered, the creaky old walls, the bullet holes, and the piles of dirt in the corner that returned within days of them sweeping.

    ¡°Where have you been?¡± asked the girl. ¡°Is everyone else coming back soon?¡±

    ¡°Places. Who are you?¡± responded Miya. You seem familiar for some reason.

    ¡°What?¡± Her smile faltered a bit. ¡°You don¡¯t recognize me? Oh!¡± Her smile returned.

    Hold on. Her eyes have silver irises. Soft voice, messy brown hair, the face is the same, it''s just not a mile above me. ¡°Olivia?¡± asked Miya.

    She looked up and waved a hand over where Olivia stood, right about where her elbow normally was, finding nothing but air.

    ¡°Yeah! Hi!¡± said Olivia with a small wave.

    ¡°So,¡± began Miya.

    ¡°Oh my gosh. This is great. I¡¯ve been reading and waiting for you guys to come back,¡± said Olivia, rapid fire. ¡°This is so cool. I can balance on my toes.¡± Someone¡¯s more enthusiastic than I¡¯ve ever heard before.

    She stood up on her toes, arms held out to either side. ¡°Or back on my heels.¡± She rocked back to her heels for a moment, then stood normally. ¡°I sat in Amanda¡¯s chair with the backrest and everything and I don¡¯t really get the appeal but it was great. And look!¡± She stuck out her tongue.

    ¡°Uh,¡± said Miya, struggling to form the question. What the fuck?

    ¡°It¡¯s not forked anymore!¡±

    ¡°You have, or had a forked tongue?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Yes. Or, no, not anymore. Whatever.¡± Olivia bounced up and down on her toes.

    ¡°You know this isn¡¯t real, right?¡±

    She stopped moving as her smile vanished. ¡°Wh¡­ what?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t real. One,¡± Miya pointed to her, ¡°How? Two, notice there¡¯s no doors in here?¡±

    ¡°But, but,¡± she protested, eyebrows furrowed. Wait, no, Ben tried this on me. ¡°Then that means-¡±

    ***

    Suddenly, Miya found herself seated at a familiar table. She gripped the surface as the sense of vertigo overtook her for a split second. ¡°That was weird,¡± she grumbled to herself as she started to get up to look for Olivia. It¡¯s so abrupt when it¡¯s not your mindfuck.

    She heard bare feet slapping on the concrete. Oh no. Olivia slammed into her with a bear hug again. Ow, ow, ow. After she released her, Miya massaged her ribs and said, ¡°Hi there.¡± You have no idea how strong normal people are, do you?

    ¡°Hello!¡±

    And of course she remembers nothing. Let¡¯s get this over with. ¡°You look different.¡± How old is she? She can¡¯t be older than sixteen.

    ***

    ¡°Everything looks and sounds all fuzzy. I don¡¯t know how you guys stand it but it¡¯s great!¡±

    ***

    ¡°I tried eating some carrots earlier and it was so much easier!¡±

    ***

    ¡°I can actually feel stuff with my fingertips and hands now. I never noticed that before, but I can now and it¡¯s so cool!¡±

    ***

    Suddenly, Miya found herself seated at a familiar table. She sighed and bit back a curse. What are we on? Try ten? Twelve? She actually burst into tears a couple times. How long have we been laying here in real time? Days? Minutes? She got up from her chair, she¡¯d learned from experience the incoming hug would put her leg, hip, and spine at an awkward and painful angle if she took it sitting.

    One painful bear hug and far less painful greeting later, Miya said, ¡°Hey, Olivia.¡± Memory? Let¡¯s try that. If she breaks down again I¡¯ll just reset. Maybe. Hopefully.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± said Olivia as she hopped up on the tabletop and swung her legs beneath her. Don¡¯t let her kick you, whatever you do.

    ¡°What happened?¡± began Miya. ¡°How did this happen?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°What is the last thing you remember?¡± asked Miya.

    Olivia looked down, concentrating. ¡°Well, I flew back, then¡­ I got back. Then, this,¡± she said, spreading her hands for her to see.

    ¡°What was wrong with you before?¡±

    Olivia laughed, though her beaming smile faded a touch. ¡°Really? I wasn¡¯t human.¡±

    ¡°So? What¡¯s so great about being human?¡± Miya paused the moment the question left her mouth. The only people Olivia had ever met were the cops, who probably thought life was all peachy, and the brothers, who would never bother to ask such a question.

    Olivia stopped swinging her legs. ¡°Because everything was weird and wrong and I couldn¡¯t fit in anywhere. Like, cars and stuff, but with other people too,¡± she

    ¡°But you don¡¯t remember,¡± Miya insisted.

    ¡°I do,¡± Olivia protested.

    ¡°Do you? Do you really? If this is what you looked like before, what you remember what you looked like, what was your name? Do you remember that?¡±

    Olivia opened her mouth, though no sound came out. Worry spread across her face, and Miya readied herself for another reset.

 7: Mask

    Chapter 7: Mask

    <hr>

    I can¡¯t remember. I can¡¯t remember. I can¡¯t remember. Why can¡¯t I remember? Olivia stared at Miya standing before her, hoping to find some answer in her stern expression. It¡¯s like before, it¡¯s just blank. I just popped up. Not again. That can¡¯t be right.

    After a minute, Olivia still couldn¡¯t form a reply. ¡°Did I break you?¡± asked Miya to Olivia¡¯s left, not really addressing her. She poked her in the cheek, failing to provoke any sort of reaction out of her.

    ¡°I¡¯m still here,¡± murmured Olivia, eyes fixed firmly on her knees. She still sat on top of the table, though she couldn¡¯t muster the enthusiasm to swing her legs as before. If this isn¡¯t real then I¡¯m not normal. I¡¯m just an idiot.

    ¡°What was that?¡± asked Miya, leaning in.

    ¡°I¡¯m still here,¡± repeated Olivia, forcing a little more energy into her voice to be heard.

    ¡°Are you alright, Olivia?¡± asked Miya, taking a seat on the tabletop beside her.

    Olivia closed her eyes for a moment. I couldn¡¯t remember. I couldn¡¯t remember how I got here or what had happened again. Again. How could I have not realized that? Stupid me. And get a grip, someone else is here. Don¡¯t cry or waste her time or anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m OK,¡± said Olivia.

    Miya let out a disbelieving snort. ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m OK,¡± insisted Olivia, remembering to curl her fingers again, even though there were no claws to hide. Find a bright side. At least I¡¯m not bleeding or being shot. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still here, and we haven¡¯t reset,¡± said Miya. What? ¡°Is there something else? You know, that you want to talk about?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m stupid, OK? I thought it was real,¡± burst Olivia. ¡°I thought it was real and I didn¡¯t question it and I didn¡¯t want it to end and I couldn¡¯t remember how it happened and I didn¡¯t care. Sorry.¡±

    Stupid, stupid, stupid. It¡¯s so real though. Everything still sounds like I have a blanket over my ears, like when the road noise at the apartment got too loud. She twiddled with the hem of her shirt again. The fabric feels all fabric-y. Claws can¡¯t really feel anything. But this might not be me. It might be just some weird illusion thing, not real.

    Miya hopped down from the table and stretched, popping her back. With an annoyed grimace she said, ¡°Let¡¯s just focus on getting out of here.¡±

    ¡°Where even is here?¡± asked Olivia. There¡¯s no door or anything out.

    ¡°As far as I can tell this is some sort of dream. Not a sleeping dream, but everything you want kind of dream,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°So you were in your own place?¡± Miya nodded. ¡°What was it like?

    ¡°Great. I was rich.¡± Miya hurried to move on. She looks a bit different too. Why? Wait, I should know the answer to that better than anyone. She¡¯s missing all those red dots on her temples. ¡°When Ben snapped me out of it, I came around for a couple minutes. I saw some weird shadowy alien thing. It¡¯s doing something to us, I don¡¯t want to wait until its done. You should probably get us out of here.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± said Olivia. ¡°Shadows? I, um, I think I might have seen him before. Not here. No, not here here, real here. Um, and before. If that made sense.¡± And I didn¡¯t say anything about it. Because I¡¯m an idiot. Or could I not remember? Can I remember not remembering?

    ¡°What?¡± asked Miya, jaw slack with utter lack of comprehension.

    ¡°Sorry. I think I¡¯ve seen the shadow guy before. The first time was a couple days after I woke up. I think. It¡¯s really hard to focus on him. But I think I saw him a few other times since then. Um, sorry. I mean, I didn¡¯t mention it before. Sorry. And did you say you saw Ben?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he popped up in my world, just like I did with you. I don¡¯t know where he is now.¡± Miya slowly paced as they talked, taking half a dozen paces one way, then the other.

    I hope he¡¯s OK. ¡°Why?¡± asked Olivia. ¡°Why us? Just for fun?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± admitted Miya, lack of patience bleeding into her voice. ¡°Me and Ben never had a chance to compare notes. Did you get a good look at him? What exactly was he doing? Any idea how to fight him?¡±

    ¡°Sorry. No. Well, kind of. Um¡­ I never got a good look at him.¡±

    Miya opened her mouth to say something. After a second or two of indecision she said, ¡°Fine. But it sounds like he¡¯s been stalking you for a month.¡±

    ¡°Could he be watching us now?¡± asked Olivia. She resisted the urge to turn around to look for some sort of boogeyman behind her.

    Miya grimaced and said, ¡°Maybe. I didn¡¯t think about that. We need to figure out why he¡¯s doing this, too, though I¡¯d settle for just getting out and killing the bastard.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°You know this isn¡¯t real.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Olivia mumbled.

    ¡°We¡¯re still here.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°You keep saying that, but we¡¯re still here. I don¡¯t think we¡¯re moving on until you accept it.¡±

    Olivia folded her arms. ¡°But¡­¡± she began, trying to protest.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I had to do.¡±

    She¡¯s not going to let it go. They¡¯re going to just keep going at it. And she¡¯s right, and the others are still going through whatever illusions this guy has for them, and I think I¡¯m crying, and my memory is easily manipulated, and I¡¯m still just a weird stupid monster thing once we get out, if we get out, and¡­

    ¡°Hey, hey, hey,¡± said Miya. ¡°I have no clue what to say now,¡± she muttered under her breath. Welcome to my world. ¡°It¡¯ll be alright. We¡¯ll figure out a way out.¡± Right. Just¡­ just get up. Olivia wiped her eyes on her forearm, then sat back up.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she murmured.

    ¡°You sure?¡± asked Miya. ¡°I was worried we were going to reset there.¡± I still don¡¯t know what that means.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m better.¡± Get it together, get it together. What did I say before? It¡¯ll be OK. I¡¯ve made it this far already. The others need help, and I can¡¯t do that from here. Even if this isn¡¯t real, it¡¯ll be OK.

    ***

    Olivia came to with her wings digging into her back. A familiar smell of dust immediately filled her nostrils, even as she struggled to regain control of her own body. I know this smell. This is my old apartment building. The off-white paint on the walls, the style of the window with its sun brittle plastic cover, even the threadbare carpets were familiar.

    She took as deep a breath as she could, regaining use of her jaw at least. In addition to the wires running up to her skull, three oval shaped white disks orbited above her, beaming soft blue light down on her wings, hands, tail, and feet in turn. The disks had no power source, no fan even she could hear, simply defying gravity.

    With some effort, she managed to flop her head over, towards the source of a pulsing light reflecting off the walls. She found not one, but two different lights on a panel built into the wall, of a far different make to the normal, terrestrial type it was set in. A humanoid figure worked feverishly at it, pressing the screen several times, checking one of the lights, then resuming its work. This cycle repeated several times before the figure turned, giving Olivia a profile of a bullet shaped head embedded with a dozen black eyes.

    It began scuttling along the wall before simply slipping into a shadow cast by a partially opened door, vanishing from sight. You. You did this. Olivia took another deep breath and lifted her head, pulling her chest up a couple inches with it. She relaxed and tried again, getting a little further. A third light, this one red, began to pulse as the disks froze in their orbit and rose to a foot shy of the ceiling. No, no. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the figure slip back into the room, freezing once it realized she nearly sat upright with her elbows propping her up.

    There was little else she could do but let out a threatening hiss. The figure backed off with at least half of its eyes on her at all times, swaying its upper body in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. It tapped the button on its wrist a second time.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ***

    Air escaped from Olivia¡¯s throat as she found herself standing in a concrete corridor, similar to the ones around the Arena. Beside her, Miya let out a surprised grunt. Olivia looked down at her hands, finding neat, trimmed nails instead of claws.

    ¡°You saw him too?¡± she asked, the moment they got their bearings.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Olivia, shivering. ¡°We¡¯re at my old apartment building.¡±

    ¡°Whoa, what? How did you not know about this alien thing?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I watched him move weird and smell weird and teleport through shadows. Is that some weird technology thing?¡±

    Miya bit her lower lip. ¡°That seems too weird and specific. Aliens can have powers.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, why not? They can have mages too. Some Siberian mage nearly wiped out half of China once.¡± She snapped her fingers. ¡°Wait, that¡¯s perfect, you and me can see it if he was a mage. You didn¡¯t see any streams of magic, right? I didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    Miya sighed. ¡°Wait, where are we?¡±

    To Olivia¡¯s right was nothing more than a concrete corridor, though she heard a faint mechanical grinding noise from it. The color of the concrete shifted between different sections, with the occasional bit of sheet metal over random patches of wall.

    Miya, looking the other way, gasped and took a step back. Olivia spun around and followed suit. Several paces away from them loomed a pitch-black void. Chunks of concrete, half-finished and forgotten, splintered off into oblivion. Neither of the girls showed any interest in approaching the edge.

    Olivia sniffed the air. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s weird.¡±

    ¡°Besides the eternal void?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no smell here. Or it¡¯s not strong. It¡¯s just metal. That means Rob, right?¡± I¡¯m still worried about where the others wound up.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± replied Miya, backing away from the void. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like underground concrete bases like this.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s like,¡± Miya trailed off. ¡°Whatever. Let¡¯s find whoever this is and get out of here.¡±

    They left the void behind as they headed deeper into the corridor. Its haphazard twists and turns

    They passed an open door. Out of curiosity, Olivia looked inside, to find a stereotypical bedroom. A bed, desk, a shelf full of knickknacks. Behind her, Miya stood on her toes to get a good look over her shoulder. Yay, I don¡¯t have wings to brush up against the roof.

    Olivia kept walking, Miya following a few moments after. ¡°You didn¡¯t notice anything strange about that room?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°No, why? What was it?¡± What did I miss?

    ¡°Never mind,¡± said Miya. She pointed, ¡°That way, I hear it too now.¡± How did you not hear it before?

    Light flickered from a partially open door, accompanied by more grinding noises. Olivia ran the rest of the way. She pushed open the door and came to a stop on the inside. Rob hunched over a workbench in the center of the expansive room, bent back towards her. On one hand lay a disassembled gun of some kind, a shotgun going by the pump on the barrel, half covered by a cleaning rag. A half-eaten apple sat at the other hand amid a disorganized pile of tools. Miya joined her at the door a second later.

    Just above the workbench hovered an undulating mass of metal parts easily ten feet in diameter. Gears slotted together with unnatural precision spun, turning the blob of parts inside out. Rob reached up, placing with great reverence a plaque covered in fine engravings within a beckoning four fingered hand of tiny steel ingots bound in copper wire. The hand withdrew with a rattle, growing metal pins to trace the otherwise nonsensical engravings on the plaque. Rob reached out and the blob ceased all movement. He seized a gear the size of his palm from the frozen maelstrom.

    The lights flickered again. Olivia glanced up to find the roof replaced with the void, the light emitting from nowhere in particular. Even as the blob resumed its chaotic movements, the source-less light consistently cast several shadows on its surface, giving the distinct impression of a grinning comedy mask leering down on her. Rob grabbed a file from beneath a ball-peen hammer and began drawing it across the edge of the interior circle of the gear, his face not more than a few inches from it.

    ¡°Fucking techies,¡± muttered Miya under her breath.

    OK, that¡¯s weird, but he¡¯s here. ¡°Hi, Rob,¡± called out Olivia, once she recovered her voice. She received no response, Rob still intent on filing the gear. She and Miya exchanged glances. I didn¡¯t think I was being that quiet that time.

    ¡°Hi, Rob,¡± repeated Olivia, raising her voice as much as she dared. He stiffened and spun around in his chair.

    Rob took in the two of them for a long moment, face impassive with a lack of recognition. His eyes seemed to look past them. He jerked his head towards the way they¡¯d come in. ¡°Out,¡± he said.

    Olivia flinched at the hostility. What? Why? ¡°But,¡± she began.

    ¡°It¡¯s not done. I¡¯m busy, fuck off.¡± He grabbed the shotgun, assembled despite no one touching it.

    Miya grabbed Olivia¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Come on.¡±

    Olivia opened her mouth to protest but went anyways without a word. They closed the door behind them.

    ¡°What? Why did he do that?¡± she asked the moment the latch clicked. A shotgun? Really? I thought we were friends. I guess he¡¯s only been here a few days, but that¡¯s plenty of time to be friends!

    Miya replied, ¡°I guess he doesn¡¯t want to leave.¡±

    ¡°Why? All that¡¯s here is that crazy metal thing.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we see what he sees. He reached into that thing without even blinking. That would have taken off my hand.¡±

    ¡°OK. So now what?¡±

    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t be nice. We need to make him realize on his own what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°Oh, OK, yeah. Can he see the void? He is working hard.¡±

    Miya snapped her fingers. ¡°Working hard! Perfect!¡± She opened the door to the workshop and yelled ¡°Rob!¡± repeatedly until Olivia heard heavy footsteps.

    Rob leaned against the doorframe with his right arm out of view. Olivia heard the metallic clink of a shotgun barrel tapping the concrete floor, just out of view. Miya leaned against the opposite wall, leaving Olivia to stare at the ground, rubbing her upper arm with the other hand. What are we doing?

    Before either could say anything, he said, ¡°Who are you, how did you get in, how do you know me, and what do you want? In that order. Go.¡±

    After a silent moment where the two of them absorbed what he said, Miya  said, ¡°It¡¯s really hard to explain. I¡¯m Miya, she¡¯s Olivia.¡± She gestured to both of them in turn.

    ¡°Cute. Try again.¡± He pushed off the doorframe with his shoulder, letting them get a glimpse of the shotgun. He pointed at Olivia. ¡°She¡¯s literally half the Olivia I know. An¡¯ for that matter, why go halfway across the country for a visit without so much as a heads up? No, you gotta do a lot more to convince me.¡± Olivia¡¯s eyes widened. He doesn¡¯t think we¡¯re in the shop.

    ¡°You have to hear us out,¡± pleaded Miya. ¡°Some alien did this. None of this is real. What even is that?¡± he jerked her head towards the thing in the center of the workshop.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t it obvious?¡± he said as he waved his free hand at the mass, causing a series of ripples over its surface.

    ¡°No,¡± said Olivia and Miya in sync.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t get it. It¡¯s a fuckin¡¯ masterpiece,¡± he said, with a hazy smile.

    ¡°No, no, no, this isn¡¯t real,¡± said Miya, motioning around wildly to the base. ¡°None of it. That shotgun was in pieces when we first walked in, remember?¡±

    He glanced down at his shotgun, jaw clenched. ¡°Why would I? I can do that in my sleep,¡± he replied, his voice far less confident than before.

    ¡°Idea. We¡¯ll be going now,¡± said Miya. ¡°Show us the door and we¡¯ll be out.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Rob and Olivia simultaneously.

    Miya nudged Olivia, who, rather than taking the hint, asked, ¡°And what was that for?¡± Rob raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°You know this place so well,¡± Miya said to him. ¡°You made it with your own two hands, just like that masterpiece,¡± she said, gesturing to the blob, now pulsing like a heart.

    ¡°Did you fuckin¡¯ booby trap one of the doors or somethin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°What? No. You want us gone and we¡¯ll be gone,¡± said Miya, rushing to keep up with him as he stormed down the hall. ¡°Just lead us to the front door.¡± Olivia hesitantly followed.

    He passed the extremely stereotypical bedroom and stopped at edge of the corridor where it turned into void.

    Miya shrugged after a few silent moments. ¡°Is there supposed to be a door there?¡±

    He stared at the void. ¡°Yep.¡±

    ***

    Olivia jerked awake. Noise hit her ears. Lots of noise. Lots of sound. Creaks in the roof and walls around her, the ragged breathing of her friends lying beside her, a horn in the distance. Someone muttered something in the room. She blinked several times as her eyes focused. Loud. Stop it, stop it, stop it. Not again.

    She eased herself upright, flexing her wings and tail as the paralysis wore off, much quicker than before. The wires on her skull popped off without meaningful resistance. Remember, block it out. Focus on something else. Where is everyone? A negligible trickle of light came in under an old, warped door, enough for her to see her surroundings. Dust floated throughout the room, a fleck or two catching her in the eyes. The floating disks still hovered near the roof, their red lights beaming down on her.

    With a hiss of frustration, Olivia climbed off of the table and headed towards the door and the hushed voices that had just started beyond it. She found the others arranged on a circle of five tables in the center of what would have been a living room.

    ¡°Hey, wake up,¡± whispered Amanda, eyes darting back and forth, not resting on any one place. Can she see anything? Rob, the nearest to her, grunted in response.

    ¡°Sleepy time. Fuck off,¡± he mumbled, throwing an arm over his eyes.

    ¡°No, you idiot,¡± she said a little louder, punctuating her statement with a punch to his shoulder. ¡°I can¡¯t tell where we are.¡±

    Something else caught Olivia¡¯s attention, a soft sound almost like a water pump. She stomped over to the kitchen, leaning over the counter to find the alien hiding. There he is. His eyes met hers, and he slapped the thin metal bracelet on his wrist. Her eyes felt heavy for a moment. You. Olivia hissed and marched around the corner. You made me think I was normal.

    Her wings smacked into the ceiling lamp. The glass shattered completely. You attacked my friends. You made them suffer.

    The alien pushed backwards with his legs, scrambling towards the shadow in the corner of some cabinets. Olivia closed the distance. You tricked me.

    She aimed a downward kick to the center of his chest, putting as much force into it as possible. Right before she made contact, he vanished, though not before a pair of her toe claws nicked his chest. Her foot shattered the tiling of the floor. No running. She pulled her foot up with a snarl, bringing wood and floor with it.

    Where are you? She followed the scent of alien blood, and the much louder sound of a pump. What started as an attempt to open the front door with the handle ended up as her thrusting her fingers through the crack between the door and frame and ripping the whole thing off of its hinges and dropping it to the side.

    The alien, in the hallway, jerked his head in her direction. The desperate tap on his bracelet did nothing. Shadows started to coalesce around him, but he ran to the nearest room and slammed the door behind him. No. None of that.

    Olivia simply lowered her shoulder an inch or two and plowed through it in her pursuit. She barreled into another room, just as dusty and featureless as her old apartment, except this one had a fleeing alien in it. Get back here.

    It stumbled over the remains of a chair, giving her an opening. She charged with fingers and claws unfurled and brought her hand down on him with a roar. In the nick of time, it teleported through the shadows. Olivia hissed in frustration. Kill him. She stormed through the room. Movement in the window of the room caught her eye and the scraping sounds of feet against tile brought her to the window. The alien slipped down another foot on a slanted roof of a nearby house, arms windmilling to the side as he recovered. The stoplights and headlights of the city twinkled in the background. Olivia brought her hand crashing down on the intact window. Tear his fucking throat out.

 8: Riot

    Chapter 8: Riot

    <hr>

    Something slid by Chris¡¯s head with the sound of sandpaper on wood. He heard a loud hiss from the same direction. Up. I¡¯m awake. Chris wrenched his eyes open, finding near total darkness, even as the warm, familiar memory of the library vanished. Ben and Amanda weren¡¯t lying, that wasn¡¯t real. Fuck.

    He struggled upright, finding his limbs made of lead for a moment as paralysis wore off of him. Several metal things popped off of his head as he heard Amanda whisper something across the room. Olivia stormed off, away from him and Amanda¡¯s whispers. OK, not us, he thought as he massaged his temples. Like every day, the urge to dissociate from whatever nonsense was happening and stop caring weighed down on him, even as the last of whatever knocked him out worked its way out of his system. A memory, even if it was false, stopped him from obeying. I helped make that library. Was I in charge of building that library? No, it wasn¡¯t just me.

    Another familiar growl, an amalgamation of human frustration and a dry reptilian hiss, cut through the muffled silence. Olivia crashed through a door nearby. He couldn¡¯t see anything other than the negligible glow of light from a panel set in the wall, but the sounds of property devaluation were unmistakable.

    Who is she going after? A couple of heavy footsteps made the line of light under the door flicker, then wood shattered, and Olivia removed the door, letting light fully into the room. She stomped forward, puffing her wings out once she cleared the frame, then snarled at something again.

    His arm hit something warm and mildly squishy as he rolled off the wooden table.

    ¡°Watch it,¡± said Miya, already off of her table and on her own two feet.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he grunted. He got up and took a quick headcount. Miya kept watch on Olivia¡¯s receding back, Amanda helped Rob up, and Ben raised a hand to shield his eyes from the light pouring into the room from his position on the last table.

    Chris leaned against the nearby wall, on the far side of the room from the now empty door frame. He rubbed his temples with one hand once more, squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn¡¯t just leading. It was serving. Was it both?

    ¡°Chris,¡± snapped a voice right in front of him. Miya¡¯s. Olivia roared in the background, and something glass shattered.

    He opened his eyes to look at her. Rob stood behind and to her side with folded arms. Ben, now up, poked his head out through the doorway to look left and right for any kind of threat. He still shot a glance back at Chris, a small smile flickering on his face. Amanda examined the alien¡¯s terminal, built into the wall. The silver wires from each of the five tables fed into a hole drilled a few inches below.

    ¡°Olivia¡¯s pissed off. She just took off through a window, flying after the alien. You got any ideas?¡± asked Miya. It took everything in his power not to sigh and close his eyes again.

    Alien? Right, they mentioned that. Why does everyone think I know what I¡¯m doing? I have no clue. I¡¯m just here. I just say stuff because no one else ever has any idea what to do. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m smarter or anything. They¡¯re just waiting for me to do something.

    Quit your bitching. Get moving.

    ¡°Fine, let¡¯s go. Ben, get after Olivia, talk her down.¡± Ben gave a lazy salute as he teleported off. Drywall crunched as Amanda began digging the terminal out of the wall. ¡°What are you doing?¡± demanded Chris.

    ¡°When Olivia woke up it was like someone had dumped her there,¡± she explained, still locked onto the terminal. ¡°Right in front of the freaky alien nest? I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a coincidence. Maybe I can figure out why.¡±

    Chris nodded in understanding. ¡°Rob, give her a hand. Miya, with me, let¡¯s get some answers. Does anyone have anything on them?¡± He swatted his pockets. No wallet, keys, or phone. That¡¯s not good. No weapons either.

    Four variations of, ¡°Nope, nothing,¡± replied. Wonderful. Do what we can with what we have. Rob kicked the nearest table leg, breaking it off. He began wrenching off a cabinet door as Chris and Miya began checking the other room of the alien¡¯s apartment.

    The first room they found a single table in the center, sturdier, with thicker legs and broader footprint. Miya eyed the claw gouges on the doorframe. More alien equipment lay scattered around the outskirts. Should I grab some more of this stuff? No, Olivia¡¯s yelling might bring in the cops. No need to waste time. The cables at the table¡¯s head ran into another terminal, built into the same wall as the techies worked at. Said terminal jostled free, as Rob used his two pieces of wood as a lever to wedge the opposite side free. Amanda took his place, leaning in to examine the now exposed core within. The next room on the opposite side of the apartment gave them pause.

    A bowl of wood, paper, and fabric three feet high, like the bottom half of a gigantic broken eggshell, dominated what would have been a human bedroom. A transparent wax coated the individual pieces, keeping the jumble in one solid structure. Beyond that, drawings etched into the walls themselves caught Chris¡¯ eyes. One was unmistakably of a human body, sexless and without any facial features. Another was the cross section of a human brain. Alien scrawling covered every spare inch.

    Shelves, squat steel things made from scrap found throughout the city, held a bizarre assortment of alien equipment mixed with various scavenged human bits. A frosted glass cup from Pizza Invicta held some sort of light yellow liquid, the same swirling around without regards to gravity within a glass and white metal contraption. Below the shelves lay two smooth white crates. Those look way too small for all this alien crap. Chris felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. I am a dumb monkey, staring at something I don¡¯t understand. ¡°Don¡¯t touch anything,¡± he said to Miya, who skirted around one of the crates. I don¡¯t want to get nuked today.

    In the closet he found half a dozen human skeletons. Each had a large, flat rock over the skull, along with two pieces of wood tied or nailed together. Are those supposed to be crosses? I think they are. What the fuck is this alien doing?

    ¡°Was he trying to bury people?¡± he asked Miya. ¡°Is he evil?¡± Everything he showed me was pretty nice.

    ¡°He kidnapped us. Fuck him,¡± she replied, with an uneasy look at the skeletons.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a Gulmer. I recognize some of this shit from the museum,¡± said Rob as he and Amanda rejoined them.

    Amanda examined the drawings and diagrams of human bodies on the walls and said, ¡°Those look like something you¡¯d put up in a lab.¡±

    It was studying us. Don¡¯t know how the fuck putting us in dream world actually does that, but whatever. ¡°You got what you needed?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said, holding up the silver core she¡¯d pulled from behind the terminal. Only one cut cable dangled from it, caught on several bent metal pins.

    How do you know? Whatever, I have to trust she knows what she¡¯s doing for now. ¡°Then we¡¯re leaving. Where are Ben and Olivia?¡±

    Miya, by the window, waved them over. Chris peeled back the ragged old curtain and leaned over her. He squinted through the lack of light to track her gaze to a row of houses a block over, run down with older fences and satellite dishes streaked with rust, but none of the telltale boarded up windows and sagging roofs of truly abandoned buildings. Was there another city-wide blackout? I thought they¡¯d finally solved that problem.

    A roar from Olivia up above caught Chris¡¯s attention. He caught sight of the alien running away on a roof before Olivia dive bombed and crashed the both of them through it, leaving a ragged hole in their wake. Uh oh. Did she lose it again? She just went through a roof with her shoulder and some momentum.

    ¡°Like a mini-Godzilla,¡± murmured Rob with a wide grin. It wavered as the others turned towards him with no humor. That¡¯s right, you¡¯ve never seen her go huntress mode.

    The faint, terrified screams of civilians inside managed to reach them even at that distance, along with the crack of a gunshot. The alien teleported onto the street between the apartment building and the houses. Blood, or rather a pale green ichor that Chris assumed was blood, dripped to the ground where he stood as he pressed a gnarled hand to his side.

    We need to get her under control, now. A window on the second floor of the house shattered. The alien immediately broke into a run, not bothering to look back. Olivia jumped out of the building and pumped her wings in pursuit of him. I wonder if it¡¯s panicking. Chris, out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of Ben teleporting onto the ruined roof. Ben paused at the edge of the hole, then jumped off the roof and teleported down before gravity could make him regret that decision.

    Chris tore himself from the window, opening his mouth to urge the others to do the same, when out from a shadowy corner of the room dropped the alien. The group and the alien stared at each other for a split second stretched out for an eternity. Its jaw twitched to the side.

    The alien bolted to its feet as Miya, the nearest to it, took a clumsy, untrained grab at it. Does it have bones for her to mess with? It teleported to the side, near the shelf of equipment and devices. Chris phased into liquid form and shot himself as a column towards it. Rather than teleporting through the shadows once more, it clung to a small T shaped device built into the walls, even as Chris slammed into its back. It hammered some mechanism in it, then teleported out, its body sliding out of Chris¡¯ grip. A dull thud shook the building.

    He snapped back to human, checking the room in case the alien attacked someone else with a shiver. The others either stared at him or checked the rest of the room. All jumped as something collided with the window they had just been crowding around, sending a shower of glass into the room. A clawed hand punched through the curtain, tearing it aside to reveal Olivia from the shoulders up as she began to climb up into the room. Her lips curled back in a snarl, and her silver reptilian eyes scanned the room without a hint of recognition. She paused and twisted her head around back towards the outdoors, sniffing the air.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°Olivia!¡± shouted Miya. ¡°Olivia!¡± Olivia jumped off of the wall and out of sight. Fuck, I forgot how fast she can move.

    ¡°Oh no,¡± murmured Amanda.

    ¡°Come on. We have to do something,¡± declared Miya.

    ¡°Do what?¡± asked Chris. ¡°Trust me, she won¡¯t hesitate to attack any of us right now if Ben hasn¡¯t gotten through to her.¡± Hey, remember that time she threw Amanda aside like a rag doll and tried to gut me in the course of five seconds? Because I do. Hell, it was right here.

    Miya whirled around. She unclenched her jaw long enough to say, ¡°Anything. Better than just standing here.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± said Amanda.

    They¡¯re right. Fuck, this sucks. I guarantee someone has noticed this by now. Another dull thud shook the building. They stumbled as the floor seemed to drop a few inches beneath them. A great crash of glass and wood and concrete rang in their ears. What did that alien do?

    ¡°Buildin¡¯s fallin¡¯,¡± said Rob, already running for the door.

    ¡°Go, go,¡± Chris urged the rest as he brought up the rear.

    They thundered through the halls and down the stairs. A third thud knocked them off their feet. Chris grabbed Amanda¡¯s collar to keep her from falling over as he clung to the handrail with his free hand. OK, that neighborhood might have two-shots. Someone has called the Watch or MHU, no question. Get a quick sitrep from Ben, if not I might just have to suffocate Olivia again and drag her out of here. We don¡¯t have a car, though. Deal with that later. Rob wrenched the dented metal door on the ground floor open, just as a beam collapsed in the stairwell and punched through the floor. Dust rained down on them.

    As they finally escaped the apartment building, a pair of gunshots rang out into the night, then another pair. Across the street, Ben teleported along the rooftops, waving his arms at Chris and the group. They stopped in their tracks as a pale figure appeared at the mouth of the alleyway. The alien, bleeding from half a dozen more cuts since last they saw it, staggered forward a few steps. It twisted its drooping head to the side, gazing at them.

    Olivia landed feet first on the alien¡¯s back with a scream. Five claws of her foot tore into its chest as she slammed it into the pavement. She reached down, hooking her clawed hand into the underside of what would have been its chin, and ripped upwards with an arc of ichor. Chris flinched back, even with an entire street separating them. Jesus fucking Christ.

    ¡°She normally do shit like that?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°No,¡± replied Amanda in a hushed whisper, still clutching the alien computer core tight.

    ¡°Hey!¡± shouted Ben from his rooftop. ¡°We got cops comin¡¯!¡± Chris listened for a moment. Sirens approached. Ben dove for cover as another pair of shots rang out, one sending a puff of tile from the roof.

    Great, we have two techies without their gear and a mage without a golem. None of us have guns, and we¡¯re about to be drowning in MHU officers. Chris directed the others away from the oncoming police, though they needed no urging.

    ¡°Olivia,¡± he called out. ¡°Run!¡± She paid him no attention, head raised and sniffing the air once more.

    Three Metahuman Unit trucks, which may as well have been tanks for all the armor they boasted, burst onto the scene. They came to a stop between Chris¡¯s group and Olivia and unloaded about eight heavily armed and armored MHU officers each. Black armor covered their grey fatigues, with hard plastic mask and goggles covering their faces. Each had their own assortment of equipment strapped to their chests and belts. Two breachers had shotguns strapped to their backs, while three others held familiar batons at the ready. Unlike the others, one wore no helmet, instead barking out an impatient order as they circled Olivia. Marcus.

    One dozen of Chris¡¯ former coworkers formed a semicircle around Olivia, standing her ground with wings half spread. One hand she used to shield her eyes from the glaring headlights of the vans and mounted flashlights of the officers, though below it Chris could see teeth bared. If we get arrested we¡¯re never seeing the light of day again. We¡¯re responsible for Olivia and she just went of a fucking rampage through who knows how many houses. The three baton armed officers inched towards a hissing Olivia. The moment she made towards one of them, he backed up while the other two pressed forward. Any time one of her several flailing limbs got close, they swatted it with an arc of electricity from the baton.

    The other dozen turned on Chris¡¯ group. The officers leveled their rifles at them and shouted over the din of the sirens several variations of, ¡°Surrender or get shot a lot.¡± Chris shifted into liquid form, placing himself between the officers and the others. Amanda, get them moving. It¡¯ll take them all of five seconds to remember I¡¯m basically gasoline.

    Behind him, Chris could hear Amanda shouting for Miya and Rob to get moving. They started running, and the officers opened fire. Chris spread himself out to provide as much cover as he could. Bullets hot. Bad, bad, bad. He expelled them as soon as he could. Four or five made it through him but went nowhere near his fleeing teammates. The apartment building finished collapsing in on itself, sending out a billowing cloud of dust, obscuring them from the pursuing officers.

    Chris caught up to the others, who had forced open the main door to the computer shop across the street and made their way inside. Me and Amanda were here before. That¡¯s right! There''s roof access in here. He got rid of all the gravel and other detritus he¡¯d picked up and returned to human form. Miya and Amanda coughed out white dust.

    ¡°Keep going,¡± he urged them, following behind them on foot as Rob worked on wrenching open the lock to the roof access. The clomps of the MHU officers chased after him. He poked his head around a window, catching sight of four dust covered officers pounding toward them, the others raising their carbines at the shop. Noble designed those masks, no amount of dust would bother them. Chris flinched back as a hail of bullets tore up the window.

    They bolted up the ladder, Chris pausing to topple a shelf over the door to slow the pursuers down. He shifted to liquid and wove his way up the ladder.

    ¡°Fuck. I hate not bein¡¯ armed,¡± said Rob in between panting. They kept up the run over the gravel covered rooftop.

    ¡°Ambush?¡± suggested Miya.

    ¡°With what?¡± responded Chris. ¡°Circle back around for Olivia.¡±

    A whine caught his attention, now that a ruined building separated him from the sirens of the trucks. He caught sight of a small black quadcopter drone, almost invisible in the night sky, hovering far out of reach. Behind them, metal groaned under the weight of armored men as the pursuing officers began to climb the ladder. That drone has to have a camera. They weren¡¯t going to climb a ladder if we were just going to sit there and club them one by one. There¡¯s no cover for us up here.

    ¡°Down, down!¡± Chris shouted, jabbing his hand at the edge of the roof and the ground below. He shifted into liquid once more as the first officer up leveled his carbine at the group and fired off three shots. The next one up took one look at Chris and pulled out a clunky pistol. An incendiary flare rocketed towards Chris, forcing him back into human form. Two more MHU officers finished climbing the ladder and began advancing as more bullets flew. He spun around to find only Rob, down on one knee and weighing a rock in his hand. He reached back and flung it with all his might, nailing the drone in one of the rotors and sending it crashing to the ground. Techie? What? Whatever.

    Without a word, Chris jumped and Rob climbed down off the one story roof to catch Amanda and Miya on the ground. Each had an officer pinning them to a wall. Miya grabbed at the arm of the one on her, unable to find any contact through the armor. Amanda clung to the computer core as her officer tried to seize it from her. Two more officers leveled carbines at them. ¡°Chris! Stop!¡± shouted one.

    Instinct took over. Still a large mass of liquid, Chris slammed into them, engulfing two and knocking off balance the others. One smacked the back of his head on the pavement, going limp despite his helmet. The other submerged officer fought Chris for another flare gun on his belt, even as he gasped for air. You idiot, you¡¯ll kill us both. His hand almost made it to the trigger before Chris lifted him and slammed him into the concrete once more, knocking the fight out of him for a second. The next slam knocked the fight out of him for much longer.

    Chris snapped back to human, shivering as his body regenerated the heat lost in liquid form. Rob, Amanda, and Miya kept an eye on the other two officers, one out cold, another cradling a broken arm and leg.

    ¡°Thanks for that,¡± said Amanda. Rob just laughed.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Olivia and Ben?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°More are coming,¡± said Chris, stopping to scoop up a carbine. Rob and Miya followed suit. ¡°Circle back.¡±

    They circled around, keeping out of sight of the officers as they followed the sounds of roars and gunfire. Chris poked his head around a corner. The dozen officers, including Marcus, herded Olivia away from the houses she¡¯d wrecked. Several torn lead weighted nets tangled her wings. She twisted, trying to rip one off completely, catching a bullet to the ribs for her troubles. Marcus raised a hand, and the asphalt beneath her feet dissolved for a moment, locking her ankle deep in the solid road. The baton wielding officers, with only a chestplate for protection, poked at her peripherals as she wrenched her feet free. Helicopter rotors began to beat the air.

    Shit, shit, shit. Olivia swayed on her feet, but still attempted a charge at Marcus. Damn it, Olivia. Where is the flight in fight or flight? An officer next to him hefted a large tube, launching another net at her legs. She tore the fabric, though now two halves tangled her footing.

    ¡°No, Olivia. No, no, no,¡± whispered Miya, joining him at the corner. ¡°Get out of here. That mage knows what he¡¯s doing.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think we can get through that,¡± Chris replied, gesturing to all the armed officers. Fuck. I thought she might have broken through. She¡¯s just roaring and swinging now.

    ¡°Ben?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even know where he is.¡±

    His stomach churned, and shoulders slumped. He knew what to say. Olivia regained her feet yet again, roaring in defiance.

    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± Chris said, pulling back from the corner.

    ¡°What about Olivia?¡± Amanda shot back.

    Fuck me. ¡°We can¡¯t do anything. We¡¯re outnumbered, outgunned, and only have three magazines between us. Those helicopters are getting closer.¡±

    Amanda grimaced. ¡°But¡­¡± she began, trailing off. ¡°Fuck. No.¡± She shook her head, as if willing it to not be true.

    ¡°What about Ben?¡± demanded Rob with a light shove to Chris¡¯ shoulder.

    ¡°They weren¡¯t looking for him, he can take care of himself,¡± Chris replied. ¡°We need to leave.¡±

    With the thundering sound of helicopters overhead, the group pulled back, barely dodging the eight officers from the roof of the computer shop.

    ***

    They limped back to the lair several hours later. The group collapsed on the nearest chairs save Miya, who paced the length of the auto shop. Chris slouched in his chair, staring at the edge of the tabletop. We fucked up. I fucked up. Maybe if we¡¯d stuck with Olivia and talked her down. Amanda rolled her office chair over to a computer and woke it up, then typed. Other than that, and the pacing, no one did a thing. Rob clenched his hands into fists. He¡¯ll probably kill me if Ben doesn¡¯t show up. And I¡¯d probably deserve it. Maybe we could have ambushed Marcus.

    Amanda called out, ¡°She¡¯s still alive. They brought in Noble and Purifier. They¡¯re gonna put her under until they can get her to that Houston research place.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± asked Miya, her voice hoarse. She kept up the pacing. ¡°How does that help?¡±

    ¡°It means that we¡¯re not going to be able to get to her until they get her out of there.¡±

    ¡°If the MHU out here is the same as mine,¡± said Rob. ¡°We ain¡¯t gettin¡¯ in.¡±

    ¡°No we¡¯re not,¡± said Amanda. ¡°This is one of my last backdoors. If their security is any good they¡¯ll figure out what I¡¯m doing and close it off. They¡¯ve gone into lockdown. The only things going in or out are through the front door. They¡¯ll even use tanks of air to limit contact with the outside world.¡±

    ¡°The cells are probably way the fuck underground,¡± said Rob.

    ¡°They can flood them with napalm, collapse it with explosives, vent toxic gas in, or simply get a bunch of guys with large guns to kill everything as contingencies,¡± added Chris. And they¡¯re doing that because they know about us. And they know that this is where we live. Fuck. Chris pulled himself out of his chair.

    It was that moment when Ben kicked the door open. ¡°The fuck?¡± he shouted. He did not smile.

 9: Lockdown

    Chapter 9: Lockdown

    <hr>

    Info, info, need info, thought Amanda as she scrolled through the various reports her monitoring programs fed to her screen. She only half paid attention to the argument going on behind her, throwing the occasional bit of information over her shoulder as she found it. That was, until Ben slammed open the door to the lair. Jackass.

    ¡°The fuck?¡± he shouted. No one responded. ¡°What? Nothin¡¯ to say?¡± he continued. ¡°That was bullshit, right? I haven¡¯t lost my fuckin¡¯ mind, right?¡±

    ¡°There wasn¡¯t anything we could do,¡± said Chris, his subdued voice much lower than Ben¡¯s furious shouting.

    ¡°No shit. The whole Metahuman Unit descends from the fuckin¡¯ heavens to kick our asses? The fuck was that?¡± He marched forward to the table where Chris sat and Rob slouched. Miya finally stopped pacing, instead crossing the shop to her curtained off room. Ben snapped out an arm, barring her way. Amanda shot out of her seat as the tension in the room spiked. ¡°Where the fuck is ¡®liv¡¯?¡±

    ¡°If we¡¯re just going to yell at each other and point fingers, I¡¯m out,¡± said Miya, refusing to look anyone in the face. ¡°I like you all, but there¡¯s no way in hell I¡¯m going on a suicide mission against the MHU, and I have business back home.¡±

    Quicker than Amanda¡¯s eye could follow, Ben¡¯s other fist slammed into the table. ¡°Coward. I will beat the shit outta you again an¡¯ Olivia ain¡¯t here to stop it,¡± he roared.

    Again? Amanda took a surreptitious step back towards the side of her desk. Fuck, where is my baton? To Miya¡¯s credit she didn¡¯t flinch, instead locking eyes with Ben.

    ¡°Did you see her in there? She can¡¯t be older than fifteen. The way I hear it, you¡¯re the one who dragged her into all of this in the first place,¡± Miya shot back, voice filled to the brim with venom. Fifteen? Fifteen! At most? You dragged a fifteen-year-old girl into firefights? She¡¯s just a kid. The rest of us are at least twenty!

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s runnin¡¯. Again.¡±

    Amanda glanced towards Rob, who still slouched in his chair, though he had at least deigned to look up. This is your damn brother. How can you look bored right now? Baton, where are you? Her fingers scrambled along the hard wood surface of the desk behind her as she kept her attention on the conversation in front of her.

    Chris¡¯ chair skidded along the concrete floor as he stood up. ¡°Ben, back off, now.¡±

    Miya and Ben ignored him, laser focused on each other. Miya snarled, ¡°You want your meat-shield back?¡±

    ¡°Quit tryin¡¯ to cover your own ass.¡±

    ¡°Then why do you sound so guilty?¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m guilty then why was I the only one to watch her get carted off in a truck, lookin¡¯ for a way to get her out? I get leavin¡¯ me behind. But her?¡± Ben barked back. ¡°Answer.¡±

    ¡°Do we have to do this?¡± asked Chris, placing himself between the two.

    Ben¡¯s knuckles whitened. ¡°I¡¯m just gonna repeat myself. Answer,¡± he spat at Chris. Both straightened their shoulders and glared at each other. Great, now they¡¯re starting some kind of male dominance ritual.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t helping,¡± said Chris with forced calmness.

    ¡°Boltin¡¯ didn¡¯t neither,¡± replied Ben.

    Chris didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he turned into a giant mass of light blue liquid and slammed into Ben. Amanda took the time to turn around and grab her stun baton, lying just an inch away from where her hand had trailed off from blindly searching.

    When she turned back around, she found Ben teleported away from Chris¡¯ initial hit. Hands still clenched into fists, he studied the room. The tension drained from his shoulders, and the fighting stance he was in relaxed. He seemed to come to the realization there wasn¡¯t much he could do against a sentient, unfeeling blob, without wildly escalating lethality. The next hit from Chris, more to restrain than break, pinned Ben against a wall. And through it all, Rob just slouched in his chair. What, aren¡¯t you an adrenaline junkie too?

    Miya stomped up to Ben. ¡°What?¡± she yelled at him. Chris retracted enough for Ben to hear what she had to say, and for him to breathe. Amanda kept one eye on Rob, another on Ben. ¡°What, you thought we just ran off because fuck it, running is fun, may as well get our cardio in? You think we just abandoned her?¡±

    ¡°You lot were just sittin¡¯ here when I came in,¡± he said through clenched teeth. ¡°I¡¯m kinda doubtin¡¯ your resolve here.¡±

    ¡°Ben, quit bein¡¯ a jackass,¡± called out Rob. ¡°Hear ¡®em out.¡± The little upwards curl at the corner of his mouth could have meant anything. Thanks for speaking up earlier. You¡¯re a dumbass, and your brother¡¯s a jackass. Great.

    Ben sighed in defeat, utterly unbothered by his brother¡¯s inaction. ¡°Fine. What happened?¡±

    ¡°A dozen MHU officers nearly killed us,¡± answered Miya.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t all go for Olivia?¡± asked Ben. ¡°There must have been a dozen of ¡®em dogpilin¡¯ her.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Amanda. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for Chris, we¡¯d be in jail right now right alongside her. Where the hell were you?¡±

    ¡°Got off the roof once the five-o came so I wouldn¡¯t go splat. Dodged cops an¡¯ two-shots. Had no clue what was goin¡¯ on, ¡®til you guys left an¡¯ they got Olivia in a truck with Marcus.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d have died if we stayed. Same as you,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°Fine, I fucked up an¡¯ jumped to conclusions.¡± Ben glanced down at Chris. ¡°Wanna let me down?¡± Nothing happened. ¡°I¡¯m done, ain¡¯t gonna take a swing again,¡± added Ben.

    Liquid Chris withdrew until Ben¡¯s feet reached the ground, then Chris snapped back to normal. Wait, what if he¡¯s lying? Why do you believe him? That whole not lying thing is just stupid chest beating. Ben stretched his neck to get out some kinks, then took a seat by the table. Amanda kept hold of her baton as she sat back down at her desk. Fine then.

    Chris stood at the head of the table. ¡°We have to get the fuck out of here. Marcus will absolutely come down on us for Olivia¡¯s rampage, and we just spent the last ten minutes arguing.¡±

    ¡°Cuz a fuckin¡¯ alien attacked us!¡± exclaimed Ben.

    ¡°You think he¡¯ll give a shit?¡± asked Amanda.

    At that, Miya headed back to her room, grabbing her backpack and stuffing clothes into it. Once again, she refused to meet everyone¡¯s eyes. She¡¯s still running off.

    Chris took a deep breath. ¡°Miya, I have a proposal. For all of us.¡± Is that so? This is the first I¡¯m hearing of it.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked, still packing.

    ¡°You help us, we help you. Help Olivia and we¡¯ll help you with whatever revenge rampage you need done back home in Phoenix. We¡¯ll probably need to skip town after all of this anyways.¡± Chris scanned the whole room, looking each person in the eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not going to volunteer anyone but myself for this. Anyone have anything to say?¡±

    Ben shrugged after only a split second of consideration. ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯m in.¡±

    All eyes turned to Amanda. God damn it. There¡¯s so few of us. I could just cut and run, too. I could probably get set up somewhere on the West Coast. That¡¯s far from dad and Lock Corp. Just me. With another fake name. Again. I¡¯ve been over this before. Not that it worked the last time. While Olivia rots in a cell or a lab, and Ben does whatever he wants. God damn it! I don¡¯t care about whatever is in Phoenix. ¡°Fine,¡± she said.

    Chris turned to the last person in the shop. ¡°Rob, you¡¯ve been with us only a few days. If you want to find greener pastures, that would be totally understandable. But I won¡¯t lie to you, we could use the extra pair of hands.¡±

    Rob shrugged. ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯m in.¡±

    Chris stopped mid sales pitch. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. All of it. Why not? Never sprung someone from MHU lockup before.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t lie. Only been here three days, met a nice feral an¡¯ got jumped by an alien. I can¡¯t fuckin¡¯ wait to see what¡¯s next. My money''s on gettin¡¯ drafted for a war. Those Canadians have been too cocky lately.¡±

    Amanda snorted a laugh. That¡¯s one way of looking at it, I suppose. Chris gave his full attention to Miya, frozen with half a bag packed. ¡°Well?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Fine! I¡¯ve got it,¡± burst Miya, with all eyes on her. ¡°I¡¯ve got it. I¡¯ll help.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± said Chris, nodding slowly, turning to address the group at large. ¡°Pack up whatever you think you¡¯ll need in the next ten minutes in the back of Rob¡¯s truck, if that¡¯s alright with you? Don¡¯t leave anything you don¡¯t want the cops to see. They don¡¯t know about Rob, so his license plates won¡¯t set off any alerts.¡±

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± asked Miya. ¡®We¡¯ now, huh?

    ¡°Out of here. Maybe a motel at the edge of town?¡± said Chris.

    ¡°I got an idea!¡± replied Ben.

    ***

    Ben, for all of his belligerence and stupidity, could at least read the situation well enough. With equipment loaded in the flatbed and trailer, they piled into Rob¡¯s monster of a pickup truck and followed his brother¡¯s directions to a warehouse twenty minutes into the city.

    ¡°Me an¡¯ ¡®liv¡¯ hit this place a while back.,¡± Ben explained as they pulled up to the back door. ¡°With Sanchez gone an¡¯ the guns cleaned out, I don¡¯t think anyone will care too much about it. MHU knows about it, though, won¡¯t be able to stay for more than a few days.¡±

    He pulled out an old keychain with a plethora of keys. Some brass, some steel, not a single one was of the same make as the others. He unlocked the door and waved them in. They spread out through a half looted old warehouse. Something heavy had dragged along the concrete floors, leaving dark skid marks on its surface. Shelves lay toppled, blocking off walkways. After confirming the lights and water still worked, they set up as best they could. The brothers unloaded and took stock of equipment, while Miya and Chris hauled out enough crap to give them a place to rest their heads for a night or two.

    Amanda squeezed between the brothers and grabbed one of her boxes from the bed of the truck. Inside the hard plastic, foam lined case she withdrew a small satellite dish no larger than a laptop. After finding a good south facing window, she set it up on the windowsill, ignoring the dust and handful of dead bugs at its base. With a functional internet connection and no one screaming or arguing behind her, she could finally get to work.

    The police had finally managed to block her off from most of the systems, but she still had a backdoor they hadn¡¯t closed off yet. And this is why you don¡¯t frame me, your entire IT department, for treason. Fuck you, Marcus. Oh, here¡¯s something. She tuned out the conversation behind her as the others unpacked behind her for a couple minutes.

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Hey, shut up. Got something,¡± Amanda called over shoulder.

    She pressed play, and the audio clip started. The voice she recognized as the night MHU HQ dispatcher, an ordinary male voice somewhat distorted by static, began the recording with, ¡°Jeremiah, quartermaster will have you good to go in less than a minute.¡±

    Some scratching noises in the audio, then a different, deeper voice replied, ¡°Roger that. We¡¯ve got eighteen officers, plus drivers. Who are we up against?¡±

    ¡°I sent the full list to you. Short version: rampaging feral. She¡¯s primary. Two minutes out, stop for nothing. There¡¯s the chance her friends might be there. Nomad, so bring fire, Delta, keep yourself grounded, mage named Miya, and Skulker, teleporting vigilante. They¡¯re secondary. Don¡¯t worry. Quartermaster¡¯s got you covered.¡±

    More scratches over what sounded like a muffled conversation in the background. ¡°Alright, moving out,¡± said Jeremiah at the end.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± replied the dispatcher. The audio cut out. No mention of Rob. We can probably keep using his truck to move around. He looks exactly like his brother, though. We don¡¯t know what they know about Ben. I¡¯ll need to check on that.

    ¡°They know us. They¡¯ll probably be expecting us when they¡¯re moving her,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°If they move her. Why not just kill her if she¡¯s too much trouble?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°Red tape is on our side,¡± said Amanda. Everyone looked at her for an explanation. Why am I the only one who does research? ¡°At some point, they have to move a captured feral to ¡®an environment suited to their wellbeing.¡¯ I don¡¯t think lawmakers ever really anticipated an intelligent feral like Olivia, and this was passed during the big environmentalist push decades ago, so they were just throwing hippies a bone anyway.¡±

    ¡°How do you know all this?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Remember when we were supposed to track her down a month ago? I read up on the laws and feral behavior then. You didn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°A little,¡± he hedged.

    Amanda rolled her eyes. ¡°So, yeah. They might be doing some wrangling and push back how long they keep her for security purposes, but at some point she¡¯s got to come out of there. They pretty much have to take her to the institute in Houston, that¡¯s the only place really equipped to deal with ferals.¡±

    ¡°When?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know off the top of my head.¡±

    ¡°Get her in transit?¡± suggested Ben. ¡°Don¡¯t got Cyrus to blow the place open this time.¡±

    Chris nodded in agreement. Yeah, MHU isn¡¯t a construction office, we would just go splat against the walls there. There¡¯s a lot of hard security that they don¡¯t bother to conceal. They don¡¯t have to. ¡°We¡¯re going to need to know a lot if we want to pull this off without just getting killed or arrested. When, where, and how.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got ideas. But don¡¯t expect a miracle. Someone, or several someones, is replacing a lot of what I¡¯ve done. There used to be¡­¡± She trailed off with a sigh. These guys won¡¯t understand, except maybe Rob. Why can¡¯t everyone be an engineer? Life would be so much easier for everyone. ¡°Never mind. What you need to know is that I could access records and other stuff like what you just heard for a little while longer. They also haven¡¯t bothered to change the MHU frequency for the dispatchers, but our best bet is to just watch with our eyes.¡±

    ¡°Can you set up a radio so one of us can always be listening to dispatch?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡±

    ¡°Good, I want one of us keeping an ear out for any weird movements on their end.¡±

    ¡°OK. I¡¯ll be staying up.¡± Monitoring cameras, that could work. Watch if anything comes in or out. Fuck, Olivia would make that easy, she could just fly to wherever we need eyes.

    Chris broke her train of thought. ¡°We all need some sleep. We¡¯ll be better equipped to get Olivia back after, and she¡¯s not going anywhere right now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m staying up,¡± said Amanda. ¡°There are things I can do. I can get some cameras set up tomorrow. I don¡¯t have all of the materials on hand for them, but that shouldn¡¯t be a big hurdle.¡±

    She locked eyes with Chris. After a moment he sighed. ¡°Alright, I trust your judgment. Just¡­ know when to stop, OK?¡±

    ¡°Not the first all-nighter I¡¯ve pulled, won¡¯t be the last.¡± She glanced around.

    Rob had already passed out on the table. Miya had resumed her pacing at some point, Amanda didn¡¯t know when. Her lip is going to bleed if she bites it any harder. Chris and Ben watched her, until Chris got up.

    ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s keep cool heads, OK,¡± he said to Ben.

    Ben grinned at Amanda. ¡°You got this,¡± he said. She sighed, tacitly accepting the olive branch. He followed after Chris, leaving her blessedly alone to work.

    ***

    One day and a dozen tiny cameras manufactured later, Chris drove Amanda and Rob down Colfax Avenue, three blocks south of the MHU HQ. Amanda rubbed her sore fingertips against her jeans. Coaching Rob over the phone about what components he needed to grab may have worked better than she hoped, but without her practiced eyes on the actual pieces she¡¯d had to jam several stubborn connectors together to actually get anything made on time.

    Rob, in the back seat, kept looking out the window. He broke the silence with, ¡°Ben told me a game to play called Colfax.¡± What?

    ¡°Never heard of it, and I¡¯ve lived here for years,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Everyone grabs some McDonald¡¯s job applications, same amount each, and pass ¡®em out to every hooker you come across. First back at McDonald''s wins.¡±

    Chris¡¯s shoulders shook with silent laughter. ¡°That¡¯s terrible,¡± said Amanda, indignant. She twisted around to fix Rob with a glare. Mind you, most of Colfax is shitty, but still, that¡¯s¡­ kind of funny. Rob just grinned.

    Just as Amanda opened her mouth to continue to scold the two of them, Chris parked the giant pickup truck in a spot on the side of the road and said, ¡°Here we are. I¡¯ll keep the engine running. Amanda, walk him through any good spot to keep an eye on MHU headquarters.¡±

    ¡°Yessah,¡± replied Rob as he climbed out. Amanda nodded.

    She kept herself from looking up at the distant specks of the surveillance drones overhead. For every one you see, there are two you don¡¯t. Getting too close would just be asking for trouble, but the police couldn¡¯t perfectly monitor the whole city. Anyone walking around MHU HQ at night during lockdown is just asking to get shot, so we¡¯ve got to do this in broad daylight, which sucks in its own way.

    She sank deeper into the astonishingly comfortable cushions of the truck¡¯s interior as she pulled open her bulky laptop. Despite how sloppy his triplet¡¯s cars wound up, Rob¡¯s truck remained spotless. She found no trash squirreled away in the door pockets or center console, and the AC quietly kept the temperature at a pleasant 70 degrees despite the early summer heat. The sheer height of the cab and the tinted windows kept any nosy onlookers at bay, though Chris kept an eye out for any meter maids.

    Her earpiece cracked to life. ¡°Cops drivin¡¯ by,¡± said Rob, by now around a corner and out of sight.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s their headquarters. There¡¯s a regular police station across the street too. You¡¯re fine.¡±

    ¡°You sure?¡±

    ¡°I checked,¡± she replied. ¡°They still don''t know what you or Ben look like. They know Miya, she¡¯s apparently got a little rap sheet of her own. Don¡¯t look guilty.¡±

    ¡°I ain¡¯t done shit. Yet.¡±

    ¡°Yet.¡± Chris cast her a questioning look, only hearing one side of the conversation. ¡°Look like you¡¯re shopping. You¡¯re about half a block away from a tech store and a hardware store I used to go to all the time.¡± You¡¯re supposed to be a techie. If you can¡¯t find something there you don¡¯t deserve to call yourself one.

    ¡°Ooh!¡±

    Twenty minutes of radio silence followed. Amanda kept an eye on the cameras on her laptop, even though none of them came up. Eventually, her phone rang as Rob sent her a picture of a CTC phone, an old model they only sold in Europe and Africa.

    ¡°Hey, there¡¯s a weird lookin¡¯ phone here,¡± said Rob. ¡°You want?¡±

    Ooh. I always need more chew toys, and that looks shitty enough. Can¡¯t wait to see what that EMP gun I¡¯m working on does to this poor bastard. Or I can see if that experimental battery melts the rest of the hardware. So many choices.

    ¡°Hell yeah.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha, will get out of here in a sec.¡±

    Eventually, Rob came to the street leading into MHU, about two blocks due east, and began setting up cameras watching the streets. She steered him away from the more popular lunch areas that MHU cops enjoyed, Chris chiming in on occasion. Amanda cycled through the video feeds on her laptop as another came on. Looks good enough. It¡¯ll catch anything major on the street. She cycled through the three other camera feeds. Everything is looking good so far.

    This continued on for another hour. One camera had a terrible view of a lamppost and nothing else, but before they could come back and correct it a pair of regular cops pulled over for a smoke break nearby. Otherwise, the cameras had every major street to or from MHU covered.

    ¡°Out of gizmos. You happy?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°Good enough. Check on that bad camera on your way back. No worries if you can¡¯t fix it, we should be good.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, gonna stop by that tech shop again. See you in fifteen.¡±

    True to his word Rob sauntered up to the truck fifteen minutes later, carrying a very large box and a plastic bag dangling from a couple gripping fingers. ¡°No problems?¡± asked Chris as the back door opened. ¡°And what is that?¡±

    ¡°No problems. Actually got this cool 3D printer type thing. Kinda small, but the tolerance on these things are insane.¡±

    ¡°How much did that cost?¡± asked Amanda as she twisted around in her seat to get a better look. Just act normal. Nothing suspicious. And that does sound very cool.

    ¡°Too much! Can¡¯t wait to pull the thing apart and see how it works,¡± he said with an enthusiastic grin as he pushed the box in the other back seat.

    ¡°Got my chew toy?¡±

    ¡°Chew toys?¡± He raised an eyebrow with a bemused grin, even as he passed her the old phone.

    ¡°Gotta break stuff to know its limits. And studying damage of stuff is good for future prevention of things I actually do care about.¡± Got a big box at home of old stuff I need to recycle at some point.

    ¡°I hear that. Couldn¡¯t just get crappy old ones online?¡±

    ¡°I could but¡­ you saw it. Figured may as well.¡±

    Before Chris put the car in drive, he looked at both of them and said, ¡°You two are the most techie techies to ever techie.¡±

    ***

    ¡°How are the cameras looking?¡± Chris asked Amanda back at the warehouse.

    ¡°Good. No MHU trucks, no vans, nothing that they¡¯d use to transport her so far. Miya should be listening to the dispatcher right now.¡± They both looked over to Miya, who wore a large set of noise canceling headphones over her ears. She noticed their attention and removed one earpiece.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± she said.

    ¡°Anything?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Nothing unusual. No code, just plain, ¡®go here, do this¡¯ kind of stuff. Dispatcher¡¯s actually a friendly guy.¡±

    ¡°He is,¡± agreed Amanda.

    ¡°Ben should give you a break in about five minutes,¡± said Chris.

    Miya nodded in confirmation. ¡°Cool.¡±

    Amanda helped Rob unpack the printer as Chris watched the videos. We¡¯ll deal with the printer later. She had systems also monitoring the videos and normal police band, but human eyes and ears still worked better for picking out anomalies.

    ¡°Amanda!¡± shouted Chris.

    ¡°What?¡± she yelled back, running over.

    ¡°Helicopter on the roof.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Helicopter on the roof,¡± he repeated. ¡°Big military one.¡± Fuck, fuck, fuck. That never happens.

    ¡°Military? She¡¯s a military grade threat?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Apparently,¡± barked Amanda. I¡¯ve got access to three different cell phones. No messages at all. The cameras are only catching the helicopter. Why are they moving her now? Amanda checked her computer, seeing if it had flagged anything as important. Nothing.

    ¡°In the cars, move,¡± commanded Chris.

    They grabbed as much as they could in thirty seconds, then piled into Rob¡¯s truck. Amanda lowered her helmet on in the shotgun seat as Rob revved the engine.

    ¡°How the hell did we not catch this?¡± she asked as Rob pulled out of the parking lot. Ben¡¯s rifle slid against the rear seats as he took the turn way too fast. That better not go off and shoot me in the back of the head somehow. No one offered no response. Amanda played the police band in her helmet, projecting it so Ben could hear as well. I¡¯m not going insane, right? This is something they¡¯d at least mention, right? ¡°Hey guys, we¡¯re moving this giant angry feral. Don¡¯t stand in the way.¡±

    Other than the dispatcher warning the MHU officers patrolling about an accident on southbound I-25, the audio didn¡¯t say anything.

    ¡°Wait, play back the last twenty seconds,¡± said Ben. Why? I didn¡¯t catch anything

    She did so anyways. I¡¯m obviously missing something. After several seconds of static, the dispatcher said, ¡°Bratva shooting reported, East Parker. All nearby officers please respond.¡±

    ¡°Little further back,¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Damn, won¡¯t get home in time to catch the kickoff,¡± said an officer. That was the only audio.

    ¡°You hear?¡± asked Ben

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Kickoff. Football. It¡¯s June right now. There¡¯s no football on TV anyone cares about.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a recording,¡± said Amanda as her heart plummeted.

    ¡°Yep,¡± replied Ben. ¡°An¡¯ that helicopter¡¯s flyin¡¯ faster than we can drive. Where¡¯s it headin¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Northeast¡­¡±

    ¡°WIA.¡±

    The airport. Fuck. We have zero air capacity with Olivia gone.

    ***

    They parked at the outskirts of the airport. The helicopter they recognized from the cameras had been powered down completely by the time they¡¯d arrived. No planes were in the vicinity. Already gone.

    Amanda rested her head against the dashboard. I¡¯m sorry, Olivia. I¡¯m so, so sorry. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to look at Ben, or the others in Rob¡¯s truck, parked beside them.

    Ben sighed. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re heading to Houston.¡±

 10: Feral

    Chapter 10: Feral

    <hr>

    Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. What? Olivia spasmed. Everything hurt. Chest, legs, arms, wings, head, tail. Every muscle and nerve ending in her body ached. Where? She cracked open her eyes. More darkness. Bad.

    She tried to move. Not with a sluggish movement as her nerves reconnected from alien technology, but a raw, panicked animal reaction. She didn¡¯t make it very far. Metallic clanks rang out as she struggled against unyielding bindings.

    What happened? Let me out, let me out, let me out! She struggled further, thrashing against whatever held her down. Can¡¯t move. People talked in the background, sharp urgent orders Olivia couldn¡¯t quite make out. Then all the air around her became wrong.

    Air, need air. Can¡¯t breathe, need¡­ She blacked out again.

    ***

    The next time she awoke, it was to the sound of rattling. Fast movement. Engines hummed, her whole surroundings shook in response. Every breath she took hissed. Something plastic covered her mouth. She twitched, and again tried to get up. Metal, covering her whole body, kept her from moving. No. Got to move. Again, only darkness met her eyes when she opened them.

    An urgent voice above her said, ¡°Just like they said. Canisters five and six, now. Up the intravenous dosage.¡± A squeak from a turned valve, then her muscles relaxed and everything began to fade once again.

    ***

    Olivia came back around, head pounding. Her eyes snapped open, and the blinding light she found made her regret that decision immediately. Sourceless ringing dominated her hearing, near as loud as when they¡¯d first been blown out, and her headache didn¡¯t improve her mood. She shot upright, tossing aside the blanket set over her, and every muscle involved screamed in protest. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the light, one hand covering them to reduce the glare. As an experiment, she stretched her wings out. One extended as far as she could get it could, the other smacked into a solid wall. OK, I can see and I can move. Where am I?

    She got up from the expansive bed she¡¯d been laid out on. Her clawed feet sank into a thin carpet before hitting concrete as she found herself in a mockup of a teenage girl¡¯s room. The pastel blue walls formed a seamless box around her, twenty feet by twenty feet. About fifteen feet up, lights illuminated the room with a yellow glow, pleasant if one didn¡¯t stare directly into them. A pair of posters, displaying young men she didn¡¯t know as part of a band she didn¡¯t recognize, adorned the wall directly above the bed. What are those even for?

    The only structural oddity to catch her attention was a small box-like protrusion in the corner. She poked her head around the corner to find a toilet and sink. Where am I? What happened? This is another prison.

    She whirled around, looking for any way out. After several panicked moments, a tiny, perfectly straight and vertical crack in the wall opposite the bed caught her attention. She rushed over to it. Door? Maybe? She worked the tip of a claw into it, trying to widen it in any way. With only the bare millimeter deep crack to work with, she got nowhere. A light, set near the ceiling she hadn¡¯t noticed, turned red with a buzz.

    Olivia hissed in both frustration and desperation. She raked her claws down where she estimated the door would be, leaving four shallow gorges across it. Let me out. The buzz returned, louder and longer this time. She clawed the wall again and again. The paint chipped, revealing bare grey concrete below.

    Right as she backed up to wind up for a kick to the scratched surface, a horrid shriek pierced the air throughout the cell. Olivia dropped, holding her hands to her ears to make it stop. The shriek scrambled her thoughts, made her brain rattle in her skull. Stopstopstopstopstop. Just as suddenly as the noise started, it ceased.

    The tinnitus that she¡¯d been dealing with since hearing one too many gunshots up close and personal came back stronger than ever, not fading even as the shriek did. When Olivia¡¯s eyes finally refocused, she removed her hands from her ears. Wet. Something¡¯s wet. What? The headache upgraded from mildly annoying to making her consider carving out her own brain to make it stop.

    She checked her hands. On the dark green scales of her right palm was a spot of blood. Red. That¡¯s normal blood. She wiped it off on her pants and held her palm to her right ear again. More blood. A small trickle, but more than ideal, which would be none at all. Normal blood. Why am I so fixated on that?

    She struggled to her feet. Let me out of here. Let me out! She snarled and launched herself at the marked door again. A wave of nausea at the violent movement knocked the fight out of her. She collided with the wall with an undignified thud.

    Slumped against the wall, she curled her fingers against the floor. Her claws, once past the carpet, dug mere millimeters into the floor as she willed the pain to stop. She took several shaky breaths, until the urge to empty her stomach and the pounding of her headache subsided enough for her to stand back up. No more of that. Not right now, at least. She staggered over to the solid metal bed and dropped down onto the fluffy padding of the mattress, sitting upright. Wait, why was everything all muffled?

    She tapped her toe against the solid metal bed frame, set deep into the floor. The claw should have made a clicking sound against it, but it sounded distant, as if several rooms over. She screwed her eyes shut and hung her head. No. Not again. Miya healed me before, but she¡¯s not here. No one friendly is here.

    I need to get out somehow. She pushed herself off of the bed. The blood promptly rushed from her head, and she stumbled back onto the bed. Ow. Later.

    Olivia forced herself to relax. Why? Why bother? I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ever going to get out or what they¡¯re going to do to me or if I¡¯ll ever see my friends again. How did I even get here? Last thing I remember, we¡¯d just gotten out of the alien¡¯s imaginary world thing. Then what?

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Some guys, looked like soldiers, shot me a lot. I think. Why were they there? Wait, they were in dark grey. I think that means MHU. She caught sight of a splash of dark brownish red on her pant leg. Her eyes widened and she recoiled a bit as she recognized what it was. Blood. Nothing particularly hurt on her leg, so by process of elimination that meant the blood wasn¡¯t hers.

    No, no, no. Not again. Not good. What did I do? The pale, inhuman face of the alien flashed in her mind. She hissed at the memory. Him. I remember. She¡¯d run after it, trying her hardest to kill him. While she expected to feel guilty about that, she couldn¡¯t muster anything but distaste for him.

    What did I do? He teleported a bunch of times. That blood had to have come from somewhere. I kept after him. Maybe it was its blood. We wound up in this house, I don¡¯t remember how. There were people in there, people I didn¡¯t recognize. There was that one man, between the alien and me. And his wife.

    She cringed, curling her wings tight against her back, heedless of the bed in the way. I just wanted him out of the way. I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ No. I messed up. Some guy died because of me. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She fought back tears. No, no crying. Not for me. If there had been anything in her stomach at that point, she would have vomited at that memory, of her throwing her claws into his gut to get him out of the way. He hadn¡¯t died immediately, either, and the alien teleported right after. No, no, no. Not going to forget. Not going to forget. Not again. Even if it¡¯s terrible. Stupid me. I didn¡¯t recognize my friends, either. Ben was trying to get me to stop. To think. I messed up. I messed up and got stupid and violent. I can¡¯t do that again.

    A pinging noise caught her attention. She looked down and realized she¡¯d never stopped tapping her toe. She took a deep breath. Calm down or I¡¯ll do something stupid again. Like attack that door again. The others. Focus on them. What are they doing? Did they escape the police? I hope so. But if they come to find me, they¡¯ll get hurt. This is a prison. It¡¯s not like the MHU one I was in for a little bit. It doesn¡¯t smell right, either.

    They probably think I¡¯m a monster. Maybe I should just stay in here. I can¡¯t hurt anyone here. And just sit here. And never fly again. And never see my friends again. She gazed up from her hands at the unfeeling walls around her. Monsters are stupid and violent. No, damn it! I¡¯m a person, not a monster. I don¡¯t, can¡¯t just do stupid violent stuff. Do they know that? Maybe I should say something? Don¡¯t be stupid, easy.

    ¡°Hello?¡± she called out, unsure of where to look. ¡°Is anyone there?¡± I¡¯m not scary, I swear.

    A small green light, instead of red, overhead flashed, interrupting her train of thought. A slot opened in the wall opposite of Olivia¡¯s bed, a few feet to the side of the claw marks she¡¯d left. Did I do this? Two trays appeared. One had a fresh change of clothes, a bright orange prisoner¡¯s outfit, with Prisoner conveniently clarified on the back of the shirt in big black letters. The other smelled like food. She saw four different slabs about the size of her palm of cooked meat, along with a sizable plastic water bottle. Of those, the off white colored one piqued her interest. Fish? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever had fish. The beef smells really good too.

    ¡°OK. Am I supposed to eat these with my hands?¡± she asked herself aloud. This can¡¯t be because I said something. You can¡¯t cook food like this in less than a second.

    She looked around the room again. The odds of any sort of indication that someone had heard her question seemed low, but she was willing to expend the three calories required to move her head. Nothing.

    Back to the trays. She tilted her head to get a good look into the slot the trays came out of. It was about nine inches high, and two feet across, she had no chance of getting through that way. That and she saw two feet of concrete before some white plastic within. How did the stuff get from back there to my cell? She sniffed. The meat caught her attention again. Other than some whiffs of incomprehensible things beyond the slot, nothing stood out to her.

    Food. Food is good. Do I really have to eat this with my hands? Her stomach growled. Felt rather empty, now that she thought about it. She shrugged, picked up the fish slab, and took a bite. Mmmmm. Food. She devoured the meat in quick succession. Chicken tastes a lot different when it isn''t fried. I kind of liked it! But now there¡¯s a bunch of juice on my hands. Oh, hey, those clothes.

    Olivia held up the bright orange shirt once she finished the food. It looked like it would fit, and had far less holes in it than the one she currently wore. She blinked. Why does it have to be so obnoxiously orange? That, and the prisoner label plastered on the back, made her hesitate. I¡¯d rather not wear this. It feels like giving in.

    She wiped her hands on it, then folded it as best she could and put it back. A small light overhead flashed, red this time. Olivia backed up a couple paces, not sure that a red light was a good thing. The trays withdrew, and concrete covered up the slot they¡¯d come in through. Silence reigned after.

    OK then. Now what?

    With nothing to do, she paced. And paced. And paced. Other than the bed and toilet, there was nothing in the room besides her. She stretched her wings out from the center of the room three times in a five minute time span. Even up close, the smooth, featureless concrete walls gave away nothing, except for the small crack and gouges she¡¯d left on the door. Staring at them got rather boring after about five minutes.

    She had moved her bed from one wall to another, to see if there was anything at all beneath it. Nothing. The only thing that separated the floor from the walls was its horizontal orientation. She even tried picking at the door again, not even violently. The warning buzz forced her back. That¡¯s got to be a door. Why else would they use that shriek thing?

    The lack of any method of keeping track of time wore her down. She lost concept of how long she¡¯d been trapped in the cell. The only thing she could keep track of was five steps in one direction, then an about face and five steps in the other. Over, and over, and over. At some point she stopped and sat on her bed to break the monotony with a slightly different monotony.

    An involuntary yawn of hers caught her by surprise. Sleep. Why not? Not doing anything else. The lights are dimmed too. Just now realized that. She lost consciousness the moment her head hit the pillow.

    ***

    The next day started exactly the same. She woke up not knowing exactly where she was. After taking a minute to remember the events of the previous days, she stretched to work out the aches from all her old injuries and resumed her pacing. Soon, the green light came on again, and the food slot opened up. Oh, hey! A fork and knife. They did listen.

    She inhaled the food and water, and the red light heralded the tray being taken away again. No clothes this time.

    More pacing. Food. More pacing. A nap.

    After half a day of nothing new, and Olivia feeling her sanity slipping to boredom, the speakers beeped. A gentle, notifying beep, not the punitive shriek or an alarm. ¡°Olivia?¡± asked an unfamiliar feminine voice from the crackling speaker.

 11: Doctors Orders

    Chapter 11: Doctor''s Orders

    <hr>

    Olivia blinked at the sound of the first voice she¡¯d heard in days beyond her own. She looked around for something to address, eventually settling on the wall in the direction the voice came from. ¡°Yes? Hello?¡± she called out, struggling to contain the hope in her voice.

    ¡°You can understand us, yes?¡±

    ¡°I answered, didn¡¯t I?¡± I did, right? I¡¯m not going crazy, am I? ¡°Who are you?¡±

    After a small pause, the curt female voice replied, ¡°My name is Dr. Dabrowski. Would you be willing to answer some questions that me and my team have?¡±

    Olivia considered for a moment. ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°How has the food been that you¡¯ve been served? Do you have any problems with it?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Everything actually tasted pretty good. Wait, make a connection, be a person. ¡°I¡¯d never had fish before, but it was good. I really liked the beef, too. I think it was beef.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything else that you would like?¡±

    ¡°Um, donuts?¡± Olivia asked, perking up.

    ¡°Donuts?¡± asked Dr. Dabrowski over the speaker.

    ¡°Yeah!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve had donuts before? They didn¡¯t poison you or cause any adverse effects?¡±

    How do you answer that? ¡°Yeah.¡± Yes, I had donuts, or yes, they poisoned me? ¡°Um, nothing bad happened. I like them.¡±

    A longer pause. Olivia looked around once more, looking for and failing to find any emotional reaction to gauge. The doctor finally asked, ¡°You are fine. Any kind in particular?¡± Can she see me? Where are the cameras?

    ¡°Any? Oh, anything with cinnamon! Those are good.¡±

    ¡°Why not? We can do that.¡± Olivia felt a small smile at the corner of her lips. Donuts! ¡°What has your diet been in the past month?¡± After a brief pause and a small sigh, Dr. Dabrowski added, ¡°Besides donuts.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Olivia began. ¡°It''s kind of whatever we can find. Burgers are really good. We get pizza. Sometimes there¡¯s other stuff. We had Thai food a couple days ago.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a lot of grains, dairy, and vegetable matter. That didn¡¯t cause any adverse effects? Sorry, that didn¡¯t make you feel bad?¡±

    ¡°If I ate too much not meat my stomach started to hurt. What do you mean by grains and dairy?¡±

    ¡°Grains refer to food like bread and rice,¡± explained Dr. Dabrowski. ¡°Lots of carnivores generally cannot handle them in large quantities. As for dairy, those are foods derived from milk, which is exclusive to mammals, not reptiles.¡±

    She¡¯s actually answering questions. This is nice. Olivia took a seat on her bed, tail curled up and drooping off the side. ¡°Oh! That makes sense. Meat usually tastes better than anything else. I can eat bread but it tastes really boring.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you asked for donuts if that is the case.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but they taste good.¡±

    ¡°OK, I see, that¡¯s just the sugar. If you¡¯re not getting bad signals, it sounds like your diet is mostly human. We¡¯ll keep an eye on your diet regardless.¡±

    ¡°Bad signals?¡± Olivia¡¯s head tilted to the side a few degrees.

    ¡°Ferals tend to have very chaotic and inconsistent biological systems.¡± Dr. Dabrowski paused, long enough for Olivia to give another hesitant look around the cell. Was that a dumb question? ¡°Apologies. Just because something tastes good doesn¡¯t mean it''s good for you. For instance, your tastebuds might be those of a reptilian carnivore, and try to guide you away from, say, bread. Your stomach and intestines, which actually break down and absorb that bread, might be human. Your body might need bread, even if your tastebuds don¡¯t like it. Or the reverse, your tastebuds might be telling you that the melted cheese on a pizza is good, but your stomach might not agree. Does that make sense?¡± Enthusiasm crept into the doctor¡¯s voice as she explained.

    ¡°I think so. How do I know if stuff is good or not?¡±

    ¡°That depends on what your body says to you. If you¡¯re eating pizza and not getting any bad feedback from your stomach, I would hesitantly say you¡¯re not lactose intolerant. In that vein, what have you been drinking?

    ¡°Water. Soda. That¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°Soda? Have they been feeding you nothing but junk food?¡± With another sigh, she continued. ¡°Sorry. We¡¯ll stick with water for now. Is there anything else you would like for your quarters?¡±

    Quarters? You mean the cell? ¡°I don¡¯t know. Something to do? Like a book. Or books. Yeah.¡± A door, so I can leave. ¡°Oh, clothes that aren¡¯t full of holes, or bright orange.¡±

    A much longer pause. ¡°Please specify.¡±

    This isn¡¯t how I imagined prison-lab would be. Why would they shoot me a bunch, then ask what I want? ¡°I was reading the Calvin and Hobbes books before. And clothes, can they not have ¡®Prisoner¡¯ stamped on them?¡± Or fall apart. Some of the things Miya and Amanda got for me fell apart when I cut the wing slits on them. And they were way too short.

    ¡°We will have those things for you in the next day or so.¡± The woman continued, ¡°We would like to perform some basic medical tests tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°OK. Wait, medical?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Yes, to make sure there are no unforeseen medical complications for you brewing further down the line. You are free to turn down anything you may find objectionable.¡±

    ¡°Um, a friend of mine already did that, I think.¡± Thank you, Miya.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°She checked everything. She said I was kind of weird but fine.¡±

    ¡°How? You didn''t go to a hospital or doctor¡¯s office, did you? What exactly did your friend do?¡±

    ¡°She used magic.¡±

    ¡°OK, I see,¡± said Dr. Dabrowski with no small amount of dismissal in her voice. What¡¯s wrong with magic? ¡°Your friend will have only noticed any true health concerns relating to her specialty. Regardless, we will have a real medical professional check up on you.¡±

    ¡°Ummm¡­¡± I¡¯d rather not get poked and prodded. ¡°What do you mean by checkup?¡±

    ¡°A standard physical. Nothing you wouldn¡¯t see outside of a normal hospital visit. If you are willing we could perform some X-rays, blood testing, and maybe some psychological evaluations.¡±

    Wait a minute, you people shot me a whole bunch. Why do you care about my well-being now? ¡°Why?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Why what?¡±

    ¡°Why do all of that?¡±

    ¡°We are responsible for your well-being. We are also trying to learn more about you, and how you function. You are not the first intelligent feral in this facility, but you are by far the most eloquent and high functioning. There is so much we can learn from you.¡±

    Not the first? Everyone is always so surprised when I can talk. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± replied Olivia. Well, Miya and the others were concerned about health stuff. I don¡¯t know what exactly. It¡¯s been a month and I feel fine. And Miya keeps saying she¡¯s only good with bones, so I guess this wouldn¡¯t hurt.

    ¡°Think it over. We will respect your decision either way. Now, we¡¯ll talk again tomorrow.¡± The speaker went dead, leaving the room silent once more.

    ***

    The next day started much the same as the last. Olivia woke up, ate the meat and donuts provided, paced, and waited for something interesting to happen. They held up the donut promise. That¡¯s a good sign, right? The new clothes almost fit, too!

    Once more, at what Olivia judged to be noon, the speaker crackled to life. ¡°Hello, Olivia,¡± said the curt voice of Dr. Dabrowski. Before Olivia could respond, she asked, ¡°Have you made a decision?¡±

    I hate talking to a wall. ¡°Hello. Um, how are you?¡± That¡¯s a good question, right?

    After a pause for consideration, the doctor replied in a matter of fact tone, ¡°Average.¡±

    Olivia blinked, at a loss. What am I supposed to do with that? I guess she wants me to answer her own question. ¡°OK. I¡¯m good. Um, what exactly do you want to do today?¡±

    ¡°Today will be a basic medical checkup, by Dr. Ruskov. Unless we find anything problematic, it will be no different than what I would have at my own doctor.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know. I was, I don¡¯t know. I was trying to avoid this exact kind of place for as long as I can remember.¡±

    Dr. Dabrowki nodded again. ¡°We understand. But we can provide you with answers. They may not be the answers you want, or were looking for, but they are answers. Both your current life and your former life.¡±

    ¡°You can figure out who I was?¡± I can find out who my family was? What my real name is? Olivia ducked her head down.

    ¡°We¡¯re working on it, yes. You can expedite the process. We will need information.¡±

    Olivia¡¯s mouth opened, then closed. Open. Close. ¡°I¡­ um¡­ I¡­ sure.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± said Dr. Dabroski. ¡°Dr. Ruskov will be with you in a few moments.¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The speaker went dead. Before long, the door opened, unseen engines working hard to move the hefty slabs of reinforced concrete open. She whirled around, and stared at the open doorway as air rushed in. This place smells weird. Really weird. The darker concrete of the hallway beyond seemed to drink in the fluorescent lighting.

    Two armed men appeared first. Olivia stopped herself from uncurling her clawed hands. While not in grey MHU fatigues, they carried themselves in much the same way, perfectly at ease with the heavy rifles they carried. They took positions at either side of the door, making no further move towards her. Tattoos covered the tanned forearms of the one on the right. The one on the left wore a pair of dark sunglasses, despite the fact they were completely indoors.

    Olivia heard the wheels rolling along the ground, and something metal rattling. A young woman¡¯s head poked around the corner with a nervous smile. ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Katie, Dr. Ruskov¡¯s assistant. Do you mind if I come in?¡±

    What about the guards? ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± replied Olivia.

    With a nod, Katie vanished for a brief moment, before pushing in a large metal car covered in various instruments. Behind her followed a pair of lab-coat wearing and clipboard toting scientists. With a clipped walk and tight nod, the woman with iron grey hair revealed herself to be Dr. Dabrowski without a word. With a one word greeting she positioned herself halfway across the room to make way for her companion.

    A wiry thin man, over six feet, with short cropped hair, salt and pepper stubble, and a pair of equally thin glasses wheeled in an office chair. He came to a stop by Katie¡¯s cart, the only person within arm¡¯s distance of Olivia, and motioned over his shoulder to her bed, not looking away from his clipboard. ¡°Please, take a seat.¡± Oh, that was an accent. Don¡¯t know what, but that was a little odd.

    Olivia sat on the edge of the bed as the doctor muttered to himself. Katie gave her another smile, slightly less nervous this time around. ¡°Sorry for all the chaos. We weren¡¯t expecting you here on such short notice. They told us one thing a month ago, then told us to cancel, then you showed up with maybe six hours notice!¡± Showed up? I was shot.

    Dr. Ruskov stopped writing and propelled himself backwards, spinning in the chair as it rolled towards her. He came to a stop about a foot from her and stood, adjusting his glasses.

    ¡°I am Dr. Peter Ruskov. You are Olivia, yes?¡± he asked with a brief smile.

    Olivia nodded. What do I say? I should say something.

    ¡°Good, good,¡± he said, pulling a pen from the breast pocket of his lab coat. He scribbled something unintelligible. ¡°This won¡¯t be anything invasive. Just a simple physical, make sure nothing is amiss.¡±

    ¡°Physical?¡± They¡¯re treating it like a thing, rather than a description, so I¡¯m not quite sure what they¡¯re talking about.

    ¡°Physical examination. Height, weight, just a visual examination to make sure you aren¡¯t infected with some horrible virus, and so on.¡±

    Olivia nodded. ¡°OK.¡±

    The doctor scribbled something else, then flipped the page. He stared at the next page on the clipboard for a moment, then sighed. Olivia¡¯s brow furrowed as he plopped back into his chair and scribbled furiously.

    ¡°Sorry, this will just take a moment,¡± he said, not looking up.

    After what Olivia felt to be an intensely awkward minute, she spoke up. ¡°Um, excuse me?¡± she asked. You¡¯re not going to get mad at questions, are you?

    Both Katie and Ruskov looked up. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a doctor, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, taking the question in stride.

    ¡°But isn¡¯t Dr. Dabrowski, you know, a doctor too?¡±

    ¡°Ah, you met the researchers. Well, no, they have doctorates in other things.¡± He flipped the page, then continued his mad scribbling.

    ¡°My doctorate was in xenobiology,¡± offered Dabrowski.

    ¡°So you¡¯re not a researcher?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m the medical doctor here. Mr. and Mrs. Zheng are the resident zookeepers, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll see too much of them. Everyone else is either a guard, scientist, or just a blue collar worker of some kind.¡± He wrote one final thing on his clipboard, held it up to the screen of the laptop on the cart to double check, then returned to Olivia. I can read all of that stuff on his screen and clipboard, it just makes zero sense.

    ¡°Blue collar?¡± What does the collar have to do with anything?

    He tilted his head one way, then the other, eyes on the ceiling. ¡°Well, basically lower end jobs. Janitors, the keepers working under the Zhengs, delivery boys, and so on. Blue collar is just a saying.¡±

    ¡°Oh, OK.¡±

    ¡°Rather inquisitive,¡± he commented. ¡°OK, ready to begin? Do you know how old you are?¡±

    ¡°I, um, no.¡± What was it Ben said to Miya? ¡°My friends said I was about fifteen, maybe. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    He nodded and wrote something down real quick. ¡°OK. We¡¯re already operating under, what were their words? ¡®Assume human until something isn¡¯t.¡¯¡± Assume human. That¡¯s positive. Right?

    He followed with a battery of questions, only half of which she understood. Why is everyone so concerned with what I eat? Then he had her stand on a scale from the bottom shelf of the cart, and pulled up a metal thing attached to the back.

    ¡°Six foot ten, two hundred and eighty seven pounds,¡± he murmured to himself.

    Back at the bed, he pulled out a small flat wooden stick. ¡°Open wide, stick out your tongue.¡± Olivia eyed the stick. ¡°It¡¯s a tongue depressor, let¡¯s me see,¡± he clarified. She complied after a moment. ¡°Hmmm. Split tongue, serrated teeth. Everything else seems human, nothing is swollen or off color. Good,¡± muttered the doctor. This is weird, isn¡¯t it?

    After disposing with the stick, Dr. Ruskov grabbed a small box of latex gloves and some syringes and placed them on the counter, then left them there. Um, I don¡¯t think I like that.

    ¡°This is a lot easier,¡± murmured Dr. Ruskov

    ¡°Um,¡± began Olivia. What?

    ¡°Hm?¡± he said, looking up from his clipboard. He realized she¡¯d heard him. ¡°Oh, well, ferals are sedated before we give them medical checkups, so you can¡¯t ask them questions or tell them ¡®keep your mouth open¡¯ or something. It¡¯s that or I¡¯m patching up guards after ferals try to get out before the ambulances get here. This is much easier. Now, ears.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve been ringing a lot.¡±

    ¡°Ah. Tinnitus?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a look.¡±

    After sticking some cone thing in her ears, he said, ¡°Your ears are visually fine. No buildup of wax or fluids. I heard you got¡­ roughed up on the way in here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I heal fast, I think,¡± replied Olivia. Roughed up? Is that what you call it?

    ¡°Hm,¡± he said, nodding ¡°Any problems hearing?¡±

    ¡°No problems, but it¡¯s all kind of, I don¡¯t know, lessened. Not as clear.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± he responded.

    After some more quality clipboard time, he ran her through a few more basic tests. You can just feel someone¡¯s pulse? Why does that matter?

    ¡°Now, stay there,¡± he said as he walked around behind her. She started to track him, until he said, ¡°Please don¡¯t twist around. Your wings. Are they functional?¡±

    ¡°Um, yeah, I fly around and stuff.¡±

    That elicited furious scribbling from Dr. Dabrowski. The two of them quizzed Olivia on exactly how. I just flap my wings. Like a bird. It¡¯s not that complicated.

    ¡°No back pain? It¡¯s not straining your spine?¡±

    ¡°No. Other than the tinnitus, I guess my feet hurt if I stand around for more than, I don¡¯t know, fifteen minutes or so. I feel fine. Having a tail and stuff is weird, but I guess I¡¯m getting used to it.¡±

    Dr. Ruskov leaned over to take a look at her feet. ¡°That makes sense. Those aren¡¯t made for walking. That¡¯s all I have. Do you have any questions?¡±

    ¡°Was there anything, you know, weird? Weirder.¡± I know, I¡¯m weird.

    ¡°Well, your teeth are more shark-like than anything else, which is a bit odd.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Why am I weird? Dumb question.

    Dabrowski spoke up, ¡°Those teeth are almost indistinguishable from shark teeth, at least visually. Sharks are fish, not reptiles. Perhaps a dragon is what results when a shark climbs onto land, instead of a fish.¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    Dr. Ruskov did his head tilting thing again. ¡°How do you chew?¡±

    She stared at him for a moment. ¡°I move my jaw up and down?¡±

    With a laugh, he replied, ¡°Fair enough. Chewing is supposed to mash up food to make it easier to digest, though. Do yours?¡±

    ¡°Mash. I dunno, everything gets cut up. Sometimes stuff gets caught in between my teeth.¡±

    ¡°If it works it works, I wouldn¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m not a dentist, so I don¡¯t know for certain. Though I am curious as to whether you have wisdom teeth.¡±

    ¡°Oh. OK.¡±

    ¡°Your heart rate is a lot slower than I would have expected, but blood pressure and everything else seems to be in order, so no worries there. Other than those, nothing out of the ordinary.¡± Olivia nodded. I guess that could have been worse. I learned stuff! The doctor continued, ¡°So far as I can tell, you are perfectly healthy, but there are still a couple concerns. Sometimes the bacteria in your digestive system don¡¯t make the jump, but if you haven¡¯t had any problems in the last month, you should be fine for now. The two big concerns we have for you right now are diseases and cancer.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t those concerns for everyone?¡± asked Olivia. Ask about the bacteria later.

    Dr. Ruskov chuckled. ¡°True, but for you especially.¡± His easy smile vanished. ¡°We don¡¯t know how well your immune system adapts. If you catch strep throat, you could shrug it off in a day, or be put in the emergency room. We don¡¯t know what the pathogens from your other half are like and we don''t know how you will react to the ones here. Vaccinations will be very risky. As for cancer, well, do you know what that is?¡±

    ¡°Bad?¡± Olivia guessed. It certainly doesn¡¯t sound good, from what I¡¯ve picked up.

    He nodded, scratching his chin, then continued, ¡°In layman¡¯s terms, cancer is the uncontrolled division, the reproduction, of cells. Your cells got a bit wonky? Yes, wonky in the jump. Wings are not standard issue for people. All that added mass got there somehow.¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± began Olivia, scratching the back of her head. ¡°That¡¯s, um, that¡¯s bad.¡±

    He nodded. ¡°The sample size of ferals is very small, but cancer has a disproportionately large occurrence rate. You appear to be very naturally resilient, so this shouldn¡¯t be too big an issue, but you should be aware. Don¡¯t stress about it, stress is never healthy.¡±

    Olivia sighed. ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take this as a cancer diagnosis. You just need to be aware of the risks.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± That¡¯s still terrifying.

    ¡°Any other questions?¡±

    Olivia shook her head.

    ¡°Alright. We just need a blood sample and we will be done here. Dr. Dabrowski may have questions for you, but the majority of those will probably wait until after it gets through the bloodworks.¡± He walked over to the counter.

    ¡°Bloodworks?¡± I¡¯m not being stupid, am I?

    ¡°Hrm? Oh, that¡¯s just the big analytical machine we use for getting almost anything you could want from a single sample of blood. Some crazy techie contraption, very expensive, but it¡¯s damn accurate,¡± he said as he put on some blue latex gloves and prepped a syringe.

    He held up the empty syringe, then stopped, taking a look at a faded bullet bruise on her upper arm. ¡°This little thing isn¡¯t going to work, is it?¡± he asked. Olivia shook her head. He scratched his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what will.¡±

    ¡°Wait, they said they had a knockout drug administered via drip. How¡­¡± he trailed off. He set the needle aside on the tray and pulled off his latex gloves, throwing them in a red trash can with a bunch of almost finished circles arranged on it. He hurried over to his computer. ¡°Oh, those fucking idiots!¡±

    Olivia sighed. ¡°What?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Those idiot police just taped a needle in a bullet hole,¡± he said, anger creeping into his voice. ¡°I don¡¯t care how advanced their techie was, that¡¯s,¡± he muttered to himself, his speech shifting to a different language.

    Needle? ¡°They put a mask on me with gas,¡± said Olivia.

    Both doctors raised their eyebrows at that. Ruskov sighed and stood upright. ¡°Then they¡¯re lying about something and we¡¯ll have to go through their reports with a fine tooth comb. I¡¯ll assume you don¡¯t want to get shot, so we can¡¯t do the same thing. I¡¯ll think on it. I¡¯ll also find a good ENT doctor to check your ears out. And consult a dentist.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Thank you.¡±

    He nodded and picked up his clipboard for the nth time. ¡°We are done, unless Dr. Dabrowski wishes to speak to you?¡± He shot a questioning look at the woman as Katie packed up the cart.

    She shook her head. ¡°No, you¡¯ve given us a lot to think about. Thank you, Olivia. Would you be willing to undergo some light X-ray scans tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°What does that mean? What¡¯s an X-ray?¡±

    Dr. Dabrowski froze stock still for a second, mouth slightly opened. Olivia glanced at Katie and Ruskov, utterly unfazed. Finally, she explained, ¡°An X-ray allows us to see your bones. You will just have to stand in front of a machine. It¡¯s like taking a picture.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s fine. My friend, she¡¯s good with bones.¡± One of the guards coughed. ¡°With her magic.¡±

    ¡°What school did your friend go to?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. She never mentioned one,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°I strongly suspect your friend is a hedge mage who has no,¡± Dr. Dabrowski trailed off, frozen again. ¡°Who may not have the expertise needed to accurately diagnose you,¡± she said carefully.

    ¡°An X-ray would be helpful,¡± added Ruskov. ¡°There is only so much I can see from the surface. We, and you, could learn from what we see.¡±

    ¡°Oh, OK, that sounds fine, then. And thank you. For, um, telling me stuff.¡± Well, they did promise answers I might not have liked.

    ¡°Of course. If you are ever feeling unwell, let me know. Stay healthy, and good luck.¡±

 12: Asylum

    Chapter 12: Asylum

    <hr>

    Olivia fiddled with the edge of her pillow, trying to catch a single thread with the tip of a claw. She hadn¡¯t moved in any substantial way since throwing herself onto the bed hours ago, a day after her checkup. The amount of effort required to get up and pace just didn¡¯t seem worth it anymore. Seven steps one way, then seven steps in the other; the only alternative to tearing up the corner of her pillow. Seven steps, back and forth.

    I hope the others are OK. How long have I been here? I think it¡¯s been four days. Maybe three. Or was it five? I don¡¯t know. She closed her eyes, shutting out the bright lights of the cell. What are they doing? What if one of them got hurt, or shot, or broke a limb? Are they OK after that alien thing?

    Olivia sighed. I¡¯m worrying too much. They can take care of themselves. But I don¡¯t even know if they got away from the cops. I should ask the scientists. Should I ask? Why would they even answer that question?

    This wouldn¡¯t have happened if I hadn¡¯t lost my temper. I just want to see them again. This isn¡¯t home.

    Think about something else. Olivia got up and extended her wings as far as possible. The wing tips came within a couple feet of the walls. I just want to get up and fly. Anything but this. Why am I even putting up with this? Why didn¡¯t I try to get out when they opened the door? The hidden cameras bore into her. They¡¯re watching me, and it¡¯s getting annoying. They¡¯ve given me nothing but vague promises about my past. That¡¯s it. It¡¯s good to know health stuff.

    A green light flashed on the wall, followed by the food slot opening up. Oh, something to do. Olivia got up, grabbed a fork off the tray, and poked at a warm, cooked slab of beef. I wonder what they¡¯ll do if I refuse to eat it? Not that I will, steak is pretty good. Smells good, too. So much less grease than fast food, even if it is a little tougher.

    She scarfed down the meal. Yay, now I have nothing to do again. I already took a shower, and that¡¯s about all there is to do in here. The food tray disappeared behind the slot. At least they gave me utensils this time. Didn¡¯t they say something about letting me read some books? I think they did, but I still don¡¯t have them.

    She turned her head around, taking in the minimalistic sight of walls of concrete. The only seam in the walls marked the door. Oh my god, I¡¯m so bored I¡¯m studying a wall. She threw herself face first onto the bed once more. A sigh escaped her. Nothing to do but sleep, I guess. Or I can finish ruining the edge of this pillow. It¡¯s so quiet here. Time stretched on, until she passed out as the lights dimmed.

    ***

    The intercom crackled to life soon after Olivia finished breakfast the next day. ¡°Olivia, this is Dr. Dabrowski. I was present for your physical a couple days ago. You remember, correct?¡± came the no-nonsense voice of the doctor.

    Olivia blinked. ¡°Yes. Of course. Um, why?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not entirely confident how feral memory works. One of our goals which you can help us with is establishing what is lost, and what is gained. We can perform all the physical tests in the world, we can only make educated guesses as to the conditions of the mind. You are one of the few ferals here capable of speech, and the only really capable of answering any sort of in-depth questions.¡±

    Few? Not only?

    ¡°Oh, and one more thing I have been asked to pass along by our head of security,¡± grumbled Dr Dabrowski. ¡°In case no one has informed you yet, you are being recorded at all times.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like that?¡± If that makes them change it, great. But it hasn¡¯t affected me at all so far.

    After a brief pause, Dr. Dabrowski said, ¡°Was that a question?¡±

    ¡°Kind of. I think.¡± I¡¯m not quite sure what question I should be asking, honestly.

    ¡°Part of it is security, as Mr. Walker insisted. The other reason is research. Behavioral, mainly.¡±

    Research. Wonderful. I¡¯m a bug or something. ¡°So, um, did you find out anything?¡± Am I weirder than I thought I was?

    ¡°Dr. Sullivan, our psychologist here on staff, noted that you have been acting as any new solitary confinement inmate would. She also noted that solitary confinement is not ideal for mental well-being and recommended that we open talks with you a couple days ago. I agreed.¡±

    Like a bug. Just something to watch. ¡°Oh. Um, thank you.¡± You guys have been honest with me so¡­ wait. I keep telling myself that, but have they? They could just not be telling me stuff. ¡°When you said answers for me, you meant, you know, who I was, right?¡±

    ¡°That is actually why I¡¯m here to talk to you today. Would you like to continue this conversation face to face? I am here with Dr. Grey and an assistant; they would like to join as well.¡±

    Well, Dr. Ruskov knew a lot of stuff. ¡°That sounds fine,¡± replied Olivia.

    ¡°Very well.¡± The intercom went dead.

    Just as before, the doors opened to admit two bizarrely familiar guards. The first was the man in sunglasses, despite the fact they were indoors and Olivia had yet to see the sun since arriving. The tanned man with tattooed forearms didn¡¯t make an appearance. In his place stood another pale man wearing sunglasses indoors, identical to the other. They smell exactly the same. Even Ben and Rob smell kind of different. Olivia fought the urge to hiss at the heavily armed weirdness and sat at the edge of her bed again with her tail curled up behind her. Don¡¯t be a monster, be a person.

    The scientists filed in after with Dr. Dabrowski at their head, doing their absolute best to ignore the guards. After Dabrowski came an overweight man in an ill-fitting tweed jacket. He reeked of cigarette smoke, and a faint whiff of something else familiar she couldn¡¯t quite place. A wide smile with no warmth split his face at the sight of her. Blankets rustled as Olivia realized her wings had puffed out a foot each at the sight of him. The last, a young man about Katie¡¯s age, wheeled in a pair of office chairs, with a small stack of binders, a clipboard, and several spare pens perched atop one.

    Dr. Dabrowski cleared her throat and said, ¡°Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.¡± She¡¯s so formal at random times. Then we talk more, and she forgets all about it. ¡°This is Dr. Grey, our resident neurologist,¡± added, motioning to the man in tweed.

    ¡°Hello.¡± Olivia gave them all a small wave before remembering that revealed her claws. ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°Oh, oh, she¡¯s so polite,¡± said Dr. Grey, studying her with dark, shiny eyes.

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    ¡°Much the same as before,¡± replied Dabrowski as she studied her clipboard. Come on!

    The assistant Dabrowski never bothered to name glanced at both doctors, then with a hesitant nod said, ¡°We¡¯re good. How are you?¡±

    Thank you. ¡°I¡¯m OK. Bored though. You said you were trying to figure out who I am?¡±

    They sat before her with notes in hand, though out of arm¡¯s reach once again. The assistant stood off a few feet behind them, keeping quiet.

    ¡°Yes. We are working towards discovering your previous identity. Your answers may help expedite that process. Usually there are substantial clues as to where ferals originated from, but you have none.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, quite the mystery,¡± added Dr. Grey with an amused smile. Does he blink?

    ¡°Clues?¡± Olivia asked them.

    ¡°Yes, where you were originally sighted and the site of the trigger itself is a good indicator. From there we can work out who was where at the time. Eyewitnesses help as well. My expertise is not in forensics, mind you. I do not know exactly how they draw their conclusions, but law enforcement does eventually forward any medical records they can find to us and who they believe the feral was. In your case they don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Oh. OK.¡± Olivia spoke up again, right as Dabrowski opened her mouth to speak. ¡°Why- oh, sorry,¡± said Olivia as she realized she¡¯d cut Dabrowski off. Dr. Grey giggled.

    ¡°No, continue.¡±

    ¡°Um, why do the police care?¡±

    The doctor tapped her clipboard for a moment. ¡°There are several reasons. A feral trigger is technically a homicide. At least, that is my understanding, I¡¯m no legal expert on the matter. If nothing else, they give closure to a community, and feral attacks are well publicized enough for them to not sweep it under the rug. As for your case, the fact that you appeared out of nowhere is ringing MHU alarms.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t seem to look for me too hard. When I was with my friends.¡±

    ¡°I spoke with Cyrus on the phone when you first appeared. I believe he had hoped for more peaceful talks with you, on your own terms. He seemed strangely knowledgeable.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ what do you mean?¡±

    ¡°There are many misconceptions about ferals among the general public, and even the scientific community outside of this facility. I got the impression that he knew more than he let on, which was surprising, to say the least. I assume he has, or had, a feral relative.¡± I saw that mantis feral, but it¡¯s still annoying how everyone thinks I¡¯m just going to go crazy and kill everything or get killed. ¡°That¡¯s fine. Now, obviously you are capable of speech, so the next question is whether you can read and write.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I asked for a book. You know, when you talked to me earlier.¡±

    ¡°A comic book, yes. We were fairly confident you could, but we needed to make sure.¡±

    More and more inane questions followed. Grey and Dabrowski tag teamed back and forth, asking about seemingly random minutiae of her concept of politeness or the structure of the alphabet, her mood at the time of seeing said minutiae, and any connection she had to other minutiae. Time dragged on and on. Olivia felt her jaw clench. No, don¡¯t get angry. I do stupid stuff when I¡¯m angry. I¡¯m here because I got angry.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t know how I know stuff. I just remember random stuff,¡± said Olivia, suppressing yet another sigh. With any luck that blanket statement will make this stop.

    Dr. Dabrowski blinked. ¡°Very well, we¡¯ll leave the rest for a later date.¡± Later. Wonderful. I miss my friends. I don¡¯t think they ever wasted my time. ¡°If you are comfortable with telling me, what is the very first thing you remember? Not a concept like we¡¯ve been discussing, but the first thing you remember doing, as yourself.¡±

    ¡°I woke up.¡±

    The silence hung in the air until the doctor asked, ¡°Could you specify? Anything notable about your surroundings?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I was in this alleyway. There was a dumpster between me and the street. It smelled pretty bad. It was raining. That was it, really.¡±

    ¡°No blood?¡± asked Dr. Grey.

    ¡°No!¡± exclaimed Olivia as she shot fully upright on her bed. ¡°Why ¡­ no. I don¡¯t like killing. I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone. No blood. Just dirt. Some trash. Nothing else.¡±

    The guards, somewhat relaxed and bored before, tightened their grips on their weapons. ¡°Everything alright?¡± asked the guard on the right.

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re fine,¡± said Dabrowski, waving him off. ¡°That is not what we were alluding to. How much do you know of the actual, physical feral transformation?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not¡­ human anymore.¡± There, I said it. Happy?

    ¡°Yes, but I¡¯m talking about the actual process. That brief span in time between pre and post trigger.¡±

    ¡°Um, I don¡¯t know.¡± I haven¡¯t really thought about it before, actually. I think I just kind of try to ignore it.

    ¡°There is only one that has ever been captured on video, but there are more than enough eyewitness accounts for us to get an accurate picture. They are brutal. Bloody. I will save you the description, unless you truly want one. But the point is you did not wake up at the site of your trigger. This has some unfortunate implications.¡±

    The doctor spun in her chair and motioned to her assistant for a white two inch binder labeled FOUND DECEASED IV. ¡°If I recall correctly, you have had a face to face encounter with another feral, yes?¡± She set the binder down on her lap and rifled through the tabbed sections. She stopped at the last one. ¡°The mantis specimen? It was killed by a combination of claw and gunshot wounds.¡±

    ¡°Phenomenal, phenomenal work there,¡± murmured Dr. Grey, reading over her shoulder.

    He, not it. ¡°Yeah. He was attacking us.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. It was caged, and probably mistreated, but that is common for ferals if they are not killed outright or if the government gets to them first. Exotic pets, fighting rings, unconventional weapons. What is unusual is that you appear to have no memory of how you got to that alley in the first place. I cannot fathom why someone would just put you there and leave. Was there anything on your person at the time?¡±

    ¡°Um, no.¡±

    ¡°Really? No note, no jewelry on you, no scrap of clothing?¡±

    Olivia felt a small blush creep up her cheeks. No clothes out on that street. Ew. ¡°No,¡± she said, eyes fixed on the edge of the desk in front of her.

    The doctor leaned back in her office chair. ¡°That is very surprising. Are you absolutely certain?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. My friends asked me this stuff before.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure your friends are quite capable, but we have access to greater resources and expertise,¡± dismissed Dr. Dabrowski. She steepled her fingers and pursed her lips, remaining quiet for a moment. I know, I¡¯m weird. ¡°I don¡¯t believe something like this has happened before, to my knowledge. We¡¯ll see what the Westward investigators make of this.¡±

    Olivia frowned as Dr. Dabrowski turned to hand the binder back to her assistant. Great, nothing new. She¡¯s kind of mean, and Grey is just creepy. There¡¯s something wrong with his eyes. I can¡¯t even tell the color. Are they blue or grey? She shied away as Grey noticed her staring.

    Dr. Dabrowski said, ¡°I believe that is all of our questions for today. Dr. Grey?¡±

    ¡°No, no, nothing else from me,¡± he replied with a wave of his hand.

    ¡°With that said, Dr. Sullivan, our local psychologist, would like to meet with you tomorrow, Olivia. Not here, but in her office in the upper levels.¡± Olivia sat up straight. I can leave this horrible cell! ¡°However, both me and Mr. Walker will have to clear you for this. Your behavior has been exemplary in the past few days, but there are a few more questions that I must ask. Mr. Walker will have a few later today.¡±

    ¡°OK. What?¡± asked Olivia, failing to disguise her eagerness.

    ¡°Very well. Now, there are several deaths attributed to you. Would you deny that?¡±

    The wind left Olivia¡¯s sails. There it is. She hung her head and whispered, ¡°No.¡± I was stupid. I was stupid and lost control and other people died and I tried to ignore and forget about it. Stupid.

    ¡°A pair of bodies found in an abandoned apartment building. One week later, a large mantis feral of unknown origins found torn to pieces in an illegal fighting ring, along with several other clawed bodies. And a few days ago, a man found disemboweled, along with¡­ an alien?¡±

    Olivia nodded.

    ¡°Fascinating.

    ¡°The first one, um¡­¡± she trailed off. How much should I tell them? Not a lot, but how much of not a lot? ¡°We were, me and my friends, were trying to stop a gang leader. He didn¡¯t like that.¡±

    ¡°OK, that¡¯s consistent with the reports we have.¡±

    ¡°The feral, the other feral, was trying to kill a friend.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡±

    ¡°And the last one, um, I¡­ I got angry. Really angry and messed up. I didn¡¯t¡­ didn¡¯t mean to.¡±

    ¡°Angry?¡± asked Dabrowski.

    Olivia stayed quiet for a moment. Can I even explain the weird brain thing? ¡°Yeah,¡± she answered. ¡°Not at the man, the alien.¡±

    ¡°You fell in with a bad crowd,¡± murmured Dabrowski. What? They¡¯re my friends. They didn¡¯t shoot at me. ¡°Would you, knowing what you do now, have done the same?¡±

    ¡°No! No, of course not,¡± said Olivia. In the silence that followed, she added, ¡°Please don¡¯t dissect me.¡±

    ¡°What, do you think we work for Overlord or something?¡± responded Dabrowski as she stood along with Grey. ¡°No, of course we¡¯re not going to dissect you. I¡¯ll grab Mr. Walker, he¡¯ll want to speak with you as well.¡±

 13: Houston

    Chapter 13: Houston

    <hr>

    ¡°Did you get your driver¡¯s license out of a fucking cereal box!¡± Miya screamed as the driver ahead of her lightly tapped on his brakes going downhill.

    Ben gripped the handle above the truck door a little tighter. And she said she knew how to drive, he thought. Swapping drivers every couple of hours kept one person from grinding down, though only fifteen minutes into Miya¡¯s shift and, from the sidelong glances they threw at each other, no one actually got any rest. Despite his brace, her merge sent him pressing into Amanda, sandwiched between him and his brother in the back.

    ¡°How much have you driven before?¡± Chris asked Miya from the shotgun seat.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that hard,¡± she said. Well, that doesn¡¯t answer the fucking question. Ben kept an eye on Chris, biting his tongue when he opened his mouth to speak.

    ¡°Do you have your license?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I got my license,¡± replied Miya with a wave of her hand as she rolled her eyes at him. Ben¡¯s grip on the handle tightened for a moment in terror. ¡°You can pass that test even if you don¡¯t own a car.¡±

    ¡°No, physically with you. Or is it sitting in some purse in Phoenix?¡±

    Miya remained quiet.

    ¡°OK, pull over before a cop does.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°No, it really ain¡¯t,¡± replied Rob, glaring daggers at the back of her head as she abused his years long pet project.

    ¡°That motel look good?¡± asked Ben, pointing out a neon sign lighting up the night sky.

    He took in the sight of the old, 50¡¯s style motel. The sign sticking out of the roof simply said OT L. The barest shadow of the missing M and E letters broke up the light green paint of the sign. Pockmarks of rust splotched all across the whitewashed walls.

    ¡°Pft, no,¡± snorted Rob. The car hit a pothole, cutting off whatever else he was about to say.

    ¡°Excellent! It¡¯ll be cost-effective,¡± answered Ben.

    ¡°You mean cheap?¡± said Chris.

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°Good enough. Let¡¯s pull off here,¡± he said, pointing to the off ramp.

    Miya bit back a complaint at the sight of their faces. twisted the steering wheel to pull the truck into the motel parking lot, more gravel than asphalt. Rob¡¯s armor and various other contraptions rattled in the back with the abrupt turn.

    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re in the middle of fuckin¡¯ nowhere, northern Texas. Take what you can get,¡± said Rob as they spilled out of the truck, hopping up and down to get the kinks out of his legs. Ten hours of driving. Nothing but sitting and driving. I don¡¯t even know the name of this little town; I must have missed the sign.

    Ben took in the glorious sight of about five dingy houses, a gas station, a stereotypical diner with two cars and a semi parked outside, and the vast expanse of dirt and nothing else beyond the nameless little sunbaked town. Not even a tree to break up the sight of the sun setting beyond the flat, featureless horizon.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the next town?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Just looking that up. Another hour away, almost,¡± answered Amanda, tapping at the screen of her phone. ¡°There better be couches in the room. I¡¯m not sleeping on the floor of a place like this,¡± said Amanda, eyeing the two different boarded up windows of the motel, as well as the flickering neon ¡°Vacancy¡± sign.

    ¡°Yeah, hon, cuz semen-stained mattresses are so much better,¡± said Ben with a grin.

    ¡°Stop,¡± said Chris, wincing. ¡°Let¡¯s just get the room, figure it out from there.¡±

    He and Amanda went into the front office while Ben, Rob, and Miya lounged about, enjoying their time not being cooped up in a car. No one suggested splitting up the group with extra rooms.

    ¡°Wonder what Amanda was doin¡¯?¡± said Rob. ¡°Spent that whole time tappin¡¯ away.¡±

    ¡°No clue. You two get your techie brains together?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Yeah. She actually wants a couple of those strongbox things of mine, with some modifications. We actually came up with some stuff yesterday, if you combine the physical locks with the electronic signals she mentioned-¡±

    ¡°Rob,¡± cut in Ben as Miya¡¯s eyes began to glaze over and he felt his doing the same. ¡°Don¡¯t care.¡±

    Rob sighed. ¡°Philistines.¡±

    Eventually, Chris and Amanda returned and led them to their room on the second floor. Smells funky, yellowing walls, old tube TV, frayed bedding, I don¡¯t even want to know what the bathroom looks like. Exactly what I expected. I love being right.

    ¡°I want food. Anyone else want food?¡± Rob asked the group at large.

    ¡°Gas station food or diner food,¡± said Amanda. ¡°Those are our options.¡±

    Miya grunted, ¡°No more burgers. We had those for lunch.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right. Gas station junk food¡¯ll be much better than greasy spoon shit, both taste an¡¯ nutrition,¡± snarked Ben.

    ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯m goin¡¯ to the gas station. Tell me what you want in the next two minutes or get it yourself,¡± proclaimed Rob, backing away towards the door. Fuck it, I¡¯ll give him a hand. Everyone rattled off their orders, such as they were, and the brothers left.

    Loose dirt and rocks crunched under their feet against the concrete sidewalk as they made their way to the gas station down the road. The two streetlights the town boasted flickered as they lit their way.

    ¡°So what have you been up to out in Colorado?¡± Rob asked.

    ¡°Huh? Same old same old,¡± replied Ben. Didn¡¯t we go over this already?

    ¡°Nothin¡¯ new at all? Same shit jobs?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± replied Ben, shooting Rob a confused look. We¡¯re identical. We may run off and do our own things, but we¡¯re still the same.

    ¡°Dude, I got my GED.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± burst out Ben before Rob could continue. ¡°When did that happen?¡±

    ¡°About a year ago,¡± replied Rob with a shrug, not even bothering to keep up the pretense of a smile. ¡°I know we were all cool runnin¡¯ out, but man it makes life easier. You do the same? You improvin¡¯ yourself?¡±

    Ben laughed. ¡°What¡¯s there to improve?¡±

    They reached the gas station and entered, nodding to the bored clerk slouched at the counter. Plastic wrapping crinkled as they grabbed the various snacks and prepackaged food that would make up the group¡¯s dinner.

    ¡°Lots. It¡¯s been years, man. You made friends? Join a sports team? Get laid? Anythin¡¯? Or you still runnin¡¯ around pissin¡¯ off mid-level jackasses? More to life than that.¡±

    Ben bit his tongue once again as they met back up at the counter to pay. The moment the rickety glass door hissed closed behind them, he said, ¡°Like what? Make someone else rich? Fight someone else¡¯s war? Motherfuckers don¡¯t care about us. Fuck that.¡±

    ¡°Way I hear it, you brought along some girl to die, you care then? Honest now.¡±

    Honest. Ben didn¡¯t trust himself to speak. They returned to the motel room in silence. Miya, Chris, and Amanda picked up on nothing as they chatted and distributed the food. Ben crashed on the chair in the room and kicked his legs up on the small table in front of him. Other than those, the only pieces of furniture in the room were the two twin beds and TV stand in the corner. He checked his phone, to find no reception. Great. How did Amanda get hers to work then? I¡¯m guessing techie techno-nonsense, or maybe my carrier just hates me.

    Rob tossed him a greasy plastic package. Deal with it later. I¡¯ve got artificial cake like substance to eat. Just like momma used to make. And soda to wash it down. We are living the life right now.

    Amanda leaned back on one of the beds. She twiddled with a phone in one hand, the other drumming on the closed laptop on the nightstand. Rob sat on the floor beside Ben, back against the wall. Chris leaned against the wall near the bathroom door, and Miya lay spread-eagle on her back over the bed.

    ¡°Amanda,¡± spoke up Chris after a silent minute as everyone devoured their meagre rations. ¡°Do you have anything on what¡¯s going on back in Westward? Anything on us?¡±

    ¡°Not much. They found the alien¡¯s body, and someone in the media found out, so they¡¯re having a field day with that.¡±

    ¡°What the hell even was that?¡± grumbled Miya.

    ¡°That place used to be called Pale Man¡¯s palace. Was just an urban legend,¡± said Ben. ¡°Kind of shocked Olivia wound up there.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but why us? Did Olivia piss him off?¡±

    ¡°OK, idea. As a group, an¡¯ let¡¯s think about this honestly, how many people would notice if we vanished?¡± asked Rob.

    Ben and Rob exchanged glances. You, me, Sam. That¡¯s about it for me. Come on, Rob. Tell me about all the friends you¡¯ve got. Everyone else seemed suddenly very preoccupied with the floor when Rob asked that question.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯ve been busy, over the last couple years,¡± said Amanda. ¡°Just, like, didn¡¯t have a lot of time for much else.¡± She seemed to be talking more to herself than anyone else.

    ¡°No one, really,¡± whispered Miya in the meantime. Chris stayed quiet.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Ben. ¡°An¡¯ maybe he thought we¡¯d be easy. I know Amanda woulda never gotten out if I hadn¡¯t come around.¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± prodded Miya.

    ¡°It was kinda funny,¡± said Ben.

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    ¡°Oh, come on. Screw you,¡± said Amanda, trying her best to suppress a smile. Oh my god, something besides hostility.

    ¡°It was this featureless grey void, I shit you not. Took me a moment to figure it out, I thought I¡¯d died. An¡¯ then,¡± he said with a laugh. ¡°An¡¯ then I turned around an¡¯ saw her at this desk, all hunched over a computer, just whalin¡¯ on the keyboard. Up above her is this big floatin¡¯ mass of circuit boards an¡¯ sparks an¡¯ shit. I just walked up to her, shoved my face in front of hers, an¡¯ said ¡®if this is so great why am I here?¡¯ Snapped her right out of it. Took twenty seconds, tops.¡±

    Amanda laughed, and even Chris brightened a slight bit. Of course, he always looks like he¡¯s brooding, so any improvement is a nice change. Man, we were desperate for something to smile at. Miya and Rob exchanged glances, even as they laughed along.

    ¡°Olivia¡¯s was kind of cute. I hope she¡¯s alright. She¡¯s probably freaking out right now, too,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°I know, I fucked up,¡± said Amanda, bitterness tinging her words.

    ¡°How did you not see that airlift comin¡¯?¡± asked Ben. Well, that should have been ¡®we¡¯ in there. Whatever.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry,¡± exclaimed Amanda. ¡°Don¡¯t you see my enormous, precognizant space brain? You don¡¯t? Wait, that¡¯s right, I don¡¯t have one. Why would they move her by air, anyways? It doesn¡¯t make sense to do that.¡±

    ¡°Us,¡± broke in Chris. ¡°They move her by air and that¡¯s five metahumans out of the picture. That¡¯d be worth the risk. Before, Marcus probably thought we were just keeping her as a smart pet or something, but we¡¯ve stuck together over the last month, so he probably worked out we were looking out for each other. Or some analysts hammered that into his thick skull after a couple weeks of his willful ignorance.¡±

    ¡°Fuck that guy,¡± said Miya. ¡°I have no idea who he is but fuck him.¡±

    ¡°Ugh,¡± said Amanda, rubbing her forehead. ¡°He wasn¡¯t your old boss. You have no idea.¡± She mock shivered.

    ¡°We should kill him,¡± said Ben. Everyone looked at him. ¡°At some point, not right now,¡± Ben clarified.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good idea-¡± began Chris.

    ¡°No, I think Ben has a good idea,¡± said Miya, cutting Chris off. Why thank you! ¡°This is the guy that¡¯s been hounding Olivia from the beginning. We should deal with him.¡±

    ¡°We do that and the whole weight of US law enforcement comes down on us. That is absolutely not something they roll over for and accept,¡± said Amanda, with an incredulous look on her face.

    Ben looked at Rob. You haven¡¯t chimed in yet. Rob shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m fine either way. It¡¯s a lot like startin¡¯ a morphine addiction. Not the best of ideas, but there¡¯s a reason behind it.¡±

    ¡°And what do you think Olivia will say about you killing someone on her behalf?¡± asked Chris with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Hey, if she¡¯s not willing to do what needs to be done, I will,¡± said Miya leaning forward.

    ¡°Miya, why are you so pissed off on her behalf?¡± asked Ben. I just want to kill Marcus because he¡¯s a prick. You seem righteously indignant. ¡°Righteous indignation?¡±

    Miya grimaced and shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Because she cared, if I had to guess.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°What?¡± burst Miya. ¡°I¡¯ve always been a little Mexica girl from a piss poor neighborhood and the second youngest of five. I¡¯d still be kicking around in Arizona in a dead-end job if I didn¡¯t have my magic.¡±

    ¡°How does that work? Magic an¡¯ shit?¡± asked Ben. She¡¯s the first magic user I¡¯ve been able to talk to. Always was curious as to how that worked.

    Miya shrugged. ¡°I was bored one day. Hungry. I¡¯d skipped school and was just running around. I was, I don¡¯t know. Imagining I was somewhere else, doing something else. I really don¡¯t remember the specifics. Then I shot red spark things out of my hands. This wasn¡¯t a trigger, I was just kicking around in an abandoned car lot. But if felt like something was tugging on a bit of my brain.

    ¡°Fuck. I barely understood it at first. I could make red sparks come out of my hands that made people spaz out, that¡¯s all I knew. I tried it on one of my brothers when he had his back turned. When I figured that out, I shoplifted food or little things, and used magic to get away if I was ever caught. I was about eleven at the time, and looked like I was even younger, so everyone just ignored or underestimated me anyways,¡± she said.

    ¡°How old are you now?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°You look about sixteen.¡± Miya comes up to about my chin, and I¡¯m not a tall guy.

    ¡°I¡¯m eighteen. And really, sixteen? I know I¡¯m, what¡¯d he call it? Vertically impaired, that¡¯s it. But I like to think I look a little older than that.¡±

    Rob snorted. ¡°Heh. Little.¡±

    ¡°Shut up. I¡¯m getting off track. Anyways, then this guy, Don, found me, maybe seven months after I¡¯d first started channeling. He explained what I was doing was magic, and offered to teach me. It was great. Amazing I had power, I could do, well, at the time I thought I could do almost anything. You know how magicians and wizards are always portrayed as these super powerful guys who can do almost anything with magic? Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought too, until Don told me about specialties. He offered to help me figure mine out, for a price.¡±

    ¡°Uhhhh¡­¡± began Rob. Amanda and Chris looked uncomfortable, or at least apprehensive, as well.

    ¡°Where is this goin¡¯?¡± asked Ben. ¡°Are we talkin¡¯ souls or what?¡± Or is this a darker story than I thought?

    Miya looked around at all of them. ¡°What? No, it was money. He had a bad opium addiction, and was alcoholic now that I think about it, though he hid it well. Souls, really?¡± she asked with a laugh. Opium? That¡¯s old school. Like, didn¡¯t that fall out of fashion a hundred years ago?

    ¡°Question,¡± said Rob. ¡°How is sellin¡¯ a soul a laughin¡¯ matter? Isn¡¯t that how magic shit works?¡±

    Miya laughed harder. ¡°What? Seriously you guys? No, mortals can¡¯t do shit with souls. Demons can, but any magician who tries to sell them souls is just killed. But why is a whole other lecture.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± said Chris. Yep. That about sums up my thoughts on that. The more you know, I guess.

    ¡°Yeah. So, I managed to scrounge up the money so he¡¯d teach me. We figured out I could do bone stuff. Then he said the next lesson was going to be more expensive. I told Don I didn¡¯t quite have that kind of money, and he told me that I was shit out of luck if that was the case. This should have gotten my alarm bells ringing.

    Miya trailed off for a moment, biting her lip. ¡°But, I don¡¯t know. I wanted to do more. I tried teaching myself, but it¡¯s super abstract. Very few people pick up on it quickly. Even the basic stuff took me a while to get down, and biology is the most complex out of all the magic fields.¡±

    ¡°Wait, biology is a scientific field,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°There are old pretentious Latin and Greek terms for magic fields, but I learned it as biology, psychology, chemistry, and physics, only you¡¯re manipulating those different things with magic,¡± explained Miya. ¡°Within each four of those are different subsets. But if you want a magic lecture, I¡¯d like to point you to the internet. It¡¯s less about talking and more about doing. Anyways, I started mugging. As in, grab someone and immobilize them to take their wallet.¡±

    ¡°You, a mugger?¡± asked Rob incredulously.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Ben. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t see her comin¡¯. An¡¯ if she was smart an¡¯ came in from behind, they¡¯re not likely to see her an¡¯ tip the police off later.¡± It¡¯s the people you don¡¯t see coming that are dangerous.

    Miya nodded. ¡°What he said. This went on, lessons got more expensive, though I was starting to work stuff out on my own. Don introduced me to the magic underground, people who would have never spoken to me otherwise. It was¡­ OK, I guess. A means to an end.¡± We¡¯d damn well better not be a means to an end too.

    Miya stopped talking. ¡°How did you get to Westward, then?¡± Chris prompted.

    ¡°Don sold me out to Overlord. Slim Jim attacked, and I woke up in some bizarre facility thing.¡± Miya stared at the bed beneath her, fiddling with the edge of a blanket.

    ¡°How do you know it was Don?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°He¡¯s my best guess. He knew how powerful I was. Overlord¡¯s people knew exactly what I could do. Slim Jim knew exactly where to hit. I may have talked to other magicians, but Don was the only one of them to know all that.¡± Kidnapped, huh?

    ¡°You gonna go after him?¡± asked Ben. ¡°I want in on that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I was going to do the second I could. Why do you care?¡±

    ¡°One,¡± said Ben, holding up his index finger. ¡°Fuck kidnappers. Two,¡± he held up two fingers. ¡°Fuck Overlord. An¡¯ three, fuck this Don guy. An¡¯ four, why the fuck not?¡±

    Miya bit her lip, considering. ¡°OK. Sure.¡±

    ¡°Don could have told others that info,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He¡¯s my best guess. That¡¯s my sad sob story,¡± finished Miya. ¡°Gonna arrest me now? I see it in those cop eyes of yours,¡± she said to Amanda and Chris with almost forced joviality.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°I was a cop for a couple months. That¡¯s not nearly long enough for the indoctrination process.¡±

    ¡°Same here,¡± added Chris. ¡°We joined about the same time. And no, there¡¯s no indoctrination process.¡± Amanda mock glared and stuck her tongue out at him.

    ¡°Yeah, you and Amanda are pretty relaxed. Most cops don¡¯t like me, especially MHU ones,¡± said Ben.

    Rob shrugged. ¡°Cops usually shoot at me, never really had a chance to talk to ¡®em.¡± Miya nodded in agreement.

    ¡°I kind of regret that decision,¡± said Amanda with a shrug. ¡°I was just out of college. I didn¡¯t really want to go for a PhD at the time. I thought I could make a difference with the police, I guess. But I found that everything else was just boring. I¡¯d spend all my time thinking of new things to try. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I loved all the resources they threw at me, but the few patrols I had were with Jeremiah. Not a fun experience.¡±

    ¡°Ouch, I¡¯m sorry,¡± said Chris. Jeremiah? Don¡¯t know who that is.

    ¡°Wait, what resources are we talkin¡¯ here?¡± asked Rob over Chris.

    ¡°Anything, so long as I filled out the right paperwork. But if I could prove I needed it, it showed up within a day or so.¡±

    Rob¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What? Anythin¡¯? I would totally have been a cop if I¡¯d known that! I had to beg, borrow, cheat, and steal for all of my stuff. Do you have any idea how hard it was to hand make all of the tiny gears in this watch?¡± he said, holding up his wrist with the black and silver watch strapped to it. He was damn proud of that thing when he first finished it, too.

    ¡°This is the government we¡¯re talking about,¡± said Amanda. ¡°I had to fill out paperwork for everything, even the most basic of tools. You¡¯d think some off the shelf resistors would be easy, but nope!¡±

    ¡°Well, how basic are we talkin¡¯?¡± asked Rob. ¡°Cuz a hammer an¡¯ a good source of heat will keep me happy.¡± If I start banging my head against this wall behind me, will they notice this is boring the hell out of anyone who isn¡¯t a techie?

    ¡°They¡¯ll keep track of every ounce of metal-¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Guys!¡± cut in Miya. ¡°Now is not techie time. Get a room for that.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± said Ben. Eyes¡­ glazing over. Can¡¯t¡­ fight it.

    ¡°Right, sorry,¡± said Amanda. ¡°So yeah, I don¡¯t really regret leaving. What about you, Chris?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°My foster mother was in the MHU, she got me interested. Took law enforcement classes and training at the Academy to keep me occupied.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you said foster parents?¡± said Miya.

    Chris nodded. ¡°Yeah, I was an angry little shit in middle and high school.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I got better.¡± Hey, both him and Olivia don¡¯t like making eye contact when you ask them questions.

    Ben exchanged a glance with Rob. Someone¡¯s dodging questions today. ¡°So, the police. No qualms about leavin¡¯?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Oh, ¡®qualms.¡¯ Someone¡¯s pulling out the big boy words,¡± said Amanda.

    Ben gave a gracious nod. ¡°I try.¡±

    Chris ignored them. ¡°Sometimes,¡± he said in answer to Ben¡¯s question. ¡°Not a lot. It wasn¡¯t all it cracked up to be.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I was a vigilante. Just go out, beat up dudes, or dudettes, I¡¯m equal opportunity, an¡¯ call it a day,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Yeah, but how do you pay rent that way?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°I worked. In the food industry, mainly.¡±

    ¡°Ew. Why would you do that to yourself?¡±

    ¡°Food is good. I like food. Meet all kinds of people, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the weird kinds,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°You do get those. But I¡¯m talkin¡¯ cool people. Lifers are some of the most interestin¡¯ people you¡¯ll talk to.¡±

    ¡°Lifers?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°People who¡¯ve been workin¡¯ there their whole lives. Ex-cons, old dudes, the like. They¡¯ve been around. Hell, I worked with this one guy, I told you about Green Man, right?¡± Ben asked Rob.

    ¡°Old gang warlord guy?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, so he was a big deal in Columbus in the mid-eighties. Then the MHU busted him an¡¯ that was the end of it. Got out about seven years ago on parole. Worked with him for a while in some hole in the wall restaurant. Not what you¡¯d expect. Didn¡¯t bring up his old life much, an¡¯ I didn¡¯t ask, but he was still interestin¡¯ to talk to. Different perspective.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me you were a waiter,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Nah, back on the line.¡± At the blank looks he received, he clarified, ¡°The kitchen. Also worked in fast food, an¡¯ I ain¡¯t doin¡¯ that again.¡±

    ¡°I miss those free donuts,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°That was a fun job.¡±

    ¡°You had to go in at five in the morning. I remember because you woke me up a couple times when you left,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°Oh, sorry ¡®bout that. But I don¡¯t sleep too well anyways, so I got to live out a sugary wonderland fantasy every mornin¡¯. At least, that¡¯s what I told myself to get outta bed.¡±

    ¡°Sleep. Sleep is sacred,¡± said Rob. Yeah, that is something we should do at some point.

    The conversation died off there. They threw away the trash from their imitation of a meal and settled into comfortable silence, with only the sound of Amanda tapping away at her laptop to keep Ben awake.

    ¡°Hey, Amanda, are you looking up how we¡¯re going to get into that feral research place?¡± asked Chris suddenly.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been on that the last couple days. It¡¯s not pretty.¡± Wonderful.

    ¡°How bad?¡±

    ¡°Big walls, pretty good firewalls and electronic systems, lots of Freeman guards-¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait,¡± said Chris. ¡°Did you say the Freeman Company¡¯s doing security?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, why?¡± asked Amanda.

    Chris smiled. ¡°My father, my foster father, works for them. Think we could wrangle a way in that way?¡± Oh, I¡¯m liking this.

    ¡°Worth a shot. How high up is he on the totem pole?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to check. He¡¯s in the paymaster section, not sure how much influence they have over the combat side of things in terms of who gets hired and where they go. Anything else sticking out to you?¡±

    ¡°Nope, not from here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say we actually look at the place before we plan anythin¡¯,¡± said Rob. ¡°Internet can only tell you so much.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± agreed Amanda. ¡°If you want, I¡¯ll show you what I¡¯ve got, but it probably won¡¯t get us anywhere in terms of concrete planning.¡±

    Chris nodded as Ben stifled a yawn. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m thinking about getting some shuteye. We¡¯re only four or five hours out from Houston. Let¡¯s plan on getting out of here by seven, we¡¯ll hit the city by lunch and scout a place out.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± said Rob.

    They scattered around the room, Miya and Amanda sharing one bed as best they could, with Chris in the other. Ben leaned back in his chair, trying desperately to ignore the wicked sore neck he would have in the morning.

 14: Hand That Feeds

    Chapter 14: Hand That Feeds

    <hr>

    Dr. Dabrowski¡¯s footfalls echoed along the concrete walls of Olivia¡¯s cell as she vanished around the corner. The two identical guards, though sunglasses hid their eyes, remained on either side of the heavy door and kept a close watch on Olivia. OK, fine, I won¡¯t get up. I¡¯m supposed to talk to some security guy named Mr. Walker anyways. She flipped her tail to her other side, stretching the opposite muscles. The retreating footsteps down the hallway came to a sudden stop.

    A man¡¯s voice, sharper than even Dr. Dabrowski¡¯s and much louder, said, ¡°Doctor. I take it you approve of the feral¡¯s field trip?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I believe that everything is in order. Is something wrong?¡± she replied.

    ¡°Is there a reason you neglected to mention it was to an office on the top floor? The only reason I agreed to these face to face meetings in the first place is because of Clone and Ortega,¡± said the man, his drawl shifting to precise pronunciation for the last name. Clone? What does that mean? Olivia momentarily glanced around at the unmoved identical guards. Can they not hear?

    Dr. Dabrowski said, ¡°Yes, you have made me very much aware. They will be right outside. Dr. Sullivan insisted on her office, I assumed that wouldn''t be an issue. And Slinky¡¯s team made no mention of any movement today.¡±

    ¡°No. You see, this is a bit of a boondoggle. We¡¯re busy moving Slinky to its temporary enclosure for cleaning when I suddenly get an urgent message from your assistant asking where I am. This is leaving aside the fact that there is no way in hell I am letting a brand new feral up to the surface on a whim.¡±

    ¡°I think you are overreacting, Mr. Walker. I¡¯ve spoken face to face with her, she is perfectly well behaved,¡± replied Dr. Dabrowski with a sigh. What did she call him? Mr. Walker? That¡¯s the guy.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, my men are not prison guards. They¡¯re not trained for that. You want us to keep people out and ferals in, that¡¯s fine. With all due respect, I don¡¯t believe letting another Slinky out of its cell is the right thing to do,¡± replied Mr. Walker.

    ¡°She has complied so far. After her first few attempts at the entrance she has given us no trouble,¡± said Dabrowski. ¡°Unlike Slinky there¡¯s no record of her hunting and eating people.¡± Olivia shivered. Eating people. Who is this Slinky? I guess he¡¯s a feral.

    ¡°He was learning and biding his time. If you¡¯re wrong, ma¡¯am, people will die.¡±

    ¡°She could shed light on so many questions we¡¯ve had since this institute was founded. If getting those answers requires an olive branch, so be it.¡±

    ¡°Maybe she takes your olive branch. Maybe she wants revenge. Maybe she just wants to get out,¡± suggested Walker. I would like to leave. But they¡¯d try to stop me, even if I get past the noise thing. A pit formed at the bottom of her stomach. Is hurting someone right if I can get out? Maybe there¡¯s another way?

    ¡°She only had three separate incidents over the course of a month. An entire month. Every other feral gets that many over the course of two or three days if they¡¯re not captured or killed. Maybe four days for the herbivores,¡± said the doctor. ¡°Have you had time to review the footage I sent?¡±

    Olivia heard no response. Did he nod? Did he shake his head? After a few seconds Dabrowski continued, ¡°Dr. Sullivan insisted on hosting her upstairs in her office. The theory is that the sight of the sky should set the feral at ease, but I will defer to your judgment.¡± Olivia jolted upright in her seat. Outside? Can I fly again?

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± OK. I just need to be a person to this guy. Not a big scary monster. A person. Olivia pulled her wings in as tight as the bed she sat on would allow, curling her toes and fingers in to hide her claws.

    Heavy footsteps approached at a rapid clip. A man marched into the room. Narrowed brown eyes, sandwiched between a drab green cap and an iron grey mustache, took in every detail of the cell. Olivia¡¯s head tilted an inch to the side as he came to a stop out of reach, hands clasped behind his back and feet spread a few feet apart, back perfectly straight.

    His uniform reminded her of a lighter version of the MHU¡¯s, though green instead of urban grey. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, and the pant legs seemed to be tucked into his boots. That¡¯s weird. That looks like a uniform, but I don¡¯t see any patches. There¡¯s always patches on those things. Don¡¯t they mean something?

    Once the sounds of the door closing died out, he cleared his throat. ¡°She given you any trouble?¡± he asked the guards, meeting Olivia¡¯s gaze.

    One of the guards took in a sharp breath as if waking up. He looked to Walker and said, ¡°No, sir. She hasn¡¯t so much as twitched at the whitecoats.¡±

    Walker twisted his neck to fix the guard with a look hidden from Olivia. ¡°The doctors.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. The doctors.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± said Walker, his attention snapping back to Olivia. ¡°Olivia, correct? You can call me Mr. Walker. The safety of this facility and its employees is my responsibility.¡±

    ¡°Hello,¡± said Olivia with a small wave.

    ¡°Will you be giving me any trouble?¡± he asked without further preamble.

    I can¡¯t smell any fresh air to lead me out of here. You¡¯ll probably shoot me a bunch, and the last time the MHU shot at me I actually bled. I¡¯m not entirely sure I¡¯d be willing to murder my way out unless there¡¯s no other way. That sonic thing really hurt.

    ¡°I hope not.¡±

    Walker did not visibly smile. Indeed, only barely could Olivia spot the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. ¡°That¡¯s my hope as well.¡± Any trace of his amusement vanished, even if the tension in his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. ¡°If I have learned anything from twenty years in the Army and another seven in the Texas Rangers, trouble finds its way everywhere sooner or later.¡±

    Olivia asked, ¡°What kind of trouble?¡±

    He finally broke eye contact with her. Hands still clasped behind his back, Walker spun precisely ninety degrees, took three steps to the left, and came to a stop holding the exact same pose he¡¯d addressed her with. His vision rose a few degrees, as if looking out at a distant horizon instead of a deeply boring concrete wall.

    ¡°All kinds. All kinds. We must always be vigilant. Failure is like water, it will seep in anywhere there are cracks. In an ideal world we would never lift our arms against each other, but such is not the way of the world we live in.¡±

    Walker spun on his heels precisely one hundred and eighty degrees and took three more steps to the right, exactly back to where he¡¯d stood before. He still stared off into the nonexistent distance. Should I say something? I don¡¯t think so. He¡¯s kind of just going for it. Olivia glanced at the identical guards to find them slouching against the wall in poorly disguised boredom.

    ¡°Do you agree?¡±

    Olivia blinked. ¡°Yes.¡±

    One of the guards jerked upright. Walker caught Olivia¡¯s startled reaction out of the corner of his eye, turning around just in time for the guard to announce, ¡°Slinky¡¯s acting up, we need to get over there.¡±

    Walker marched over to the door, Olivia forgotten. ¡°Open her up, let them know we¡¯re on the way.¡±

    ¡°Need to focus, boss,¡± said one of the guards. The man disintegrated. Olivia stared in horror as his body, equipment, clothes, everything turned to fine white powder, itself dissipating to nothing a second later. Walker and the other guard, utterly unfazed by the scene, hurried from the room.

    Olivia¡¯s gaze was torn between the open and unguarded door, and where one of those guards once stood. Is he OK? What was that? She heard a thud from outside her cell and raised voices. Can I just leave? Maybe I can escape. There¡¯s no one else here. She got up, but paused at the threshold, with a wary gaze in the vague direction of the sonic emitters. With no piercing shriek coming, she stepped out of her cell.

    She found herself in a sparse corridor, the concrete walls plastered with the occasional workplace safety poster or an anatomical diagram of some animal. To the left of Olivia¡¯s door were brand new ones of a shark, crocodile, and komodo dragon. A few feet past those lay a dead end. To her right lay the rest of the facility, and with it alarmed shouts from guards. They only grew more alarmed and urgent as she crept as best she could along the wall towards the top of a T intersection.

    The hall directly ahead of her held another door and dead end similar to her own cell. As she rounded the corner, she caught sight of the commotion. Several guards, Walker and Olivia¡¯s non disintegrated one included, ringed a pair of pallet jacks carrying a twisted mass of metal most of the way out of a cell identical to Olivia¡¯s own. She spotted a couple orderlies pulling at straps binding the mass and realized some of the metal moved.

    Concentric matte grey bands twisted like a colossal serpent. About twenty feet long and twice as thick as a man, it pushed against the straps holding it in place, giving room for other parts of its body to wriggle free. Through its sluggish and slow writhing Olivia could barely spot a humanoid silhouette. Feral? Is that the one that hunted people? Some bands formed only a half circle like a rib bone, others, towards the center of the feral, a full hoop. She glanced at the poster on the wall for any clue, only to realize it was literally just a giant bold red question mark.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    One of the hoops lashed out, twisting out from the column of its body and pulverizing a guard as he moved to help one of the orderlies. Instead of a scream, or blood, or anything else Olivia expected, his body exploded into white powder. Now free of the straps, the shambling mound twisted towards the rest of the people. Are they going to be able to stop it?

    ¡°Fire!¡± shouted Walker. With that order, the guards and orderlies abandoned all attempts to wrangle the feral and either dove out of the way or followed his order, opening fire with the heavy rifles every guard save Walker carried.

    The feral made no sound, save its body scraping against surfaces, but it curled tighter around its center of mass, flinching away from the gunfire. One bullet caught a solid blow on a thinner band, cracking it. Pale green blood oozed from beneath the metallic flesh. The feral lunged forward with its thick center, bowling over one guard and turning another into powder. Not all of those guards are powder copies. Neither are those worker guys.

    Olivia rushed forward as Walker pulled one of his men out of reach of the feral by the collar. She grazed against the back of one of the identical guards with her shoulder, knocking him to the side before she could intercept the other feral. Alarmed shouts filled the air as she collided with it. Despite its lack of facial features or normal body language, its spasm registered as shock.

    Olivia dug her hands into the metallic mass and hauled it off the ground. Free hoops ground against her fingers, either to sever them or at least make her release it. She dug the claws of her feet into the ground to brace and chucked the bulk of the feral back into its cell. One of its ends managed to hook itself around her wrist. She swatted it off with her free hand, breaking something. Behind her, someone started to pull the pallet jacks out from the doorway. The feral untangled itself and began to coil and twist itself towards the door and Olivia.

    She spread her wings, covering the entire entrance, and screamed, ¡°Back off!¡±

    The metallic feral, instead of the mindless hungry charge of the mantis feral she¡¯d meet in the fighting arena, hesitated. After they sized each other up for a moment, it curled up once more, hoops ready to strike if Olivia pushed forward.

    ¡°Close it, now!¡± ordered Walker. The heavy door, eight inches of solid steel, slammed shut, leaving the feral trapped in its cell.

    Olivia let out a relieved sigh, folding her wings and claws back up, and turned around to find rifles pointed directly towards her. Beyond them, the orderlies carted off the pallet jacks, careful not to turn their backs on her.

    Walker, unarmed and directly behind the line, barked, ¡°What in the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±

    Olivia flinched back and slowly held her open hands to her side. ¡°My door was open.¡±

    ¡°That does not give you free reign to walk around wherever you want!¡±

    ¡°You guys left it open. And it sounded bad.¡±

    Walker removed his cap by the brim and ran a hand through sweaty iron-grey hair. ¡°I am going to be spending a lot of time explaining this failure. Stand down,¡± he ordered his men. You just gave me a little speech about how important it was to avoid failure.

    ¡°Me? I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    He eyed the bullet casings on the ground for a moment. ¡°Not just that.¡± Shooting the bad feral was bad? He had to. Right? ¡°No visiting the upper floors today. We have to clean this up. Let¡¯s get you back.¡±

    ***

    The next day, Olivia awoke to find a change of clothes, normal clothes, neatly folded. Thank god. They¡¯re not bright orange. They¡¯re even kind of my size! She enjoyed the shower with no one talking to her or aiming guns at her or prodding at her. Just silence and running water.

    After getting out and cutting the requisite holes into her new shirt, she threw herself face first on her bed. Tired. It¡¯s so quiet. Usually, Amanda¡¯s muttering to herself at about this time. Or Ben is harassing her. Or Miya is cursing to herself out back. Or Chris is reading some history book. Olivia fought back a tear. I can¡¯t give up. I¡¯m going to get out of here.

    This place is weird. Are the security people and science people even talking to each other? Is there any single person in charge? Dabrowski and Walker seem to be in charge of some stuff, but I don¡¯t think they get along.

    Lunch passed before the green light above the door lit up. In walked four familiar guards as Olivia got up. The lead guard reminded her of Miya, or at least the skin she could see that wasn¡¯t tattooed. The other three smelled and acted exactly the same. He mentioned Clone and Ortega. Those guys are all the same, so I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re Clone. Clones? Whatever.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± asked the lead guard, who by process of elimination must have been Ortega. ¡°You¡¯re heading up to the top floors today.¡±

    ¡°Hello,¡± she said, with her now customary small wave. ¡°Yes.¡± OK, I know I¡¯ve said this every time before, and every time the other person goes off on some crazy rant, but this time I¡¯m going to have a normal conversation.

    ¡°This way,¡± he said, Clones standing to the side to let Olivia out. His eyes locked onto her and flashed for a moment. What was that? Cautious of the firepower they carried, she followed him and headed out to the concrete hallway.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re Ortega?¡± she asked the back of the lead man¡¯s head as they walked.

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    After a moment with no elaboration, she turned to one of the Clones. ¡°And you¡¯re Clone? Or all of you?¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± one replied after a moment, ignoring the second question.

    She inhaled deeply and sighed. A whiff of something pleasant caught her nose. She tracked it to the Clone to her right.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Something smells really good. Why do you smell like burgers?¡±

    Ortega noticed their looks. His eyes flashed again. ¡°She smells the grill.¡± Can he smell what I¡¯m smelling?

    ¡°Oh. It¡¯s Friday, I run the grill for the staff lunch.¡±

    ¡°It smells really really good,¡± Olivia admitted. ¡°Way better than normal burgers.¡±

    Clone cracked a smile for a moment as they passed Slinkey¡¯s cell and into unfamiliar territory for Olivia. ¡°I would hope so. I was a sous chef at some high end restaurants years ago.¡±

    ¡°Sew?¡± People like talking about themselves.

    ¡°Second in command for the big chef.¡± He shot a mocking look at Ortega. ¡°Finally, someone who actually appreciates good food.¡±

    ¡°She ain¡¯t even ate it! It¡¯s just the smell,¡± Ortega shot back with a laugh.

    ¡°What are they feeding you?¡± Clone asked her. You don¡¯t know? The different parts here really don¡¯t talk to each other.

    ¡°Meat. I think beef. They¡¯ve tried other stuff too. It¡¯s all good.¡±

    ¡°I bet.¡±

    ¡°I wish I didn¡¯t have to cut out all those fatty bits though,¡± said Olivia.

    Clone¡¯s back stiffened. ¡°What? No. Fat¡¯s got that flavor, man. Nothing but fat sucks, but a well marbled steak? That¡¯s what you¡¯re there for.¡±

    ¡°But it''s kind of tough. Sometimes I get stringy bits caught in my teeth.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sounds like they¡¯re giving you cheap cuts with gristle. Ask for a good ribeye, you¡¯ll see what I¡¯m talking about.¡±

    They came to a low, narrow door. Olivia had grown used to having to duck under most doorways, but the hallway that extended beyond was exactly the same height. That was, about six inches lower than what her wings cleared. Olivia stopped, and looked at Ortega.

    He noticed her exasperated look and shrugged. ¡°One of the real big ones gets loose, they can¡¯t get to anyone in here too easy.¡± He motioned for her to go through.

    She sighed. Fine, whatever. She ducked down and hunched over, spreading her wings out a few feet to keep the tops from grinding against the ceiling. Thankfully, this didn¡¯t go on for too long, and they came to an open elevator. Her escort motioned for her to get in, not following themselves.

    Ortega said, ¡°Interior controls have been deactivated. It¡¯ll take you two levels up to the white coats¡¯ offices. We¡¯re taking a different elevator up and will be waiting for you at the top. Don¡¯t fuck with it.¡±

    Olivia eyed the small, grey metal elevator with its welded patches on the walls and dim lighting. Just me? ¡°Can I not go in?¡± asked Olivia. ¡°Or walk?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the elevator or back to your cell,¡± he replied.

    She crammed herself into the elevator as a Clone hit a button on the wall. The door closed behind her. Olivia stood in silence for a moment. Then another moment. Right as she thought something bad was about to happen, the elevator jerked to life, moving upwards. It went up. And up. Oh, maybe I can go outside. All these rooms are too small. The elevator slowed to a halt, and the doors immediately opened. The warm air that rushed in somehow stuck to her skin. She felt the air as she breathed.

    ¡°This way,¡± said Ortega.

    ¡°What is that?¡± she asked as they walked, feeling her new clothes stick to her body with sweat.

    Ortega was quiet for a second before asking, ¡°Oh, never felt humidity?¡±

    ¡°Warm as a momma¡¯s hug, without the smell of whisky,¡± joked Clone.

    ¡°No,¡± replied Olivia as Ortega¡¯s laughter died down. Her nose wrinkled. ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel good.¡±

    ¡°Where did you live before?¡±

    ¡°Westward City.¡±

    ¡°Man, never managed to get out there. I always wanted to learn how to ski.,¡± said Ortega. As they chatted, the guards seemed to relax, grips on weapons loosening and postures slacking. Normal people! Finally! And they seem happy just talking.

    ¡°Welcome to Houston, worst weather in the world,¡± added Clone. ¡°It¡¯s the end of May, it¡¯s only going to get worse. At least the hurricanes usually don¡¯t make it this far west.¡±

    ¡°Humidity, you said?¡± asked Olivia

    ¡°Yeah, this is normal.¡±

    Olivia paused for a moment. ¡°Why does anyone live here then?¡± Ortega and one Clone nearly doubled over laughing for a moment. The other two Clones marched on like clockwork. It¡¯s only ever one Clone talking or reacting at once.

    ¡°You get used to it,¡± said Clone.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± he replied, chuckling as her shoulders slumped.

    ¡°Eggheads here are all pissy, can¡¯t stop bitching about it. This is where their careers go to die and they¡¯re bitching about humidity,¡± said Ortega.

    ¡°Not you guys?¡± You two don¡¯t seem upset. You¡¯re the only ones talking to me like a normal person.

    ¡°Nah, we¡¯re heroes of the people, keeping monsters locked away.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Olivia mumbled.

    ¡°You¡¯re fine,¡± said Clone. ¡°You should see some of the nastier critters. I get torn in half or melted in acid all the time. There¡¯s a bunch of ferals with acid, don¡¯t know why.¡± What! Oh, Clone, right.

    ¡°Clone might have been a chef, but I got sick of hiking around in the desert my whole career. This place is heaven,¡± added Ortega.

    ¡°Oh, were you in the army too?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Sort of. Walker was an officer. I was enlisted. Found out I wasn¡¯t a fan of shooting people,¡± he said with a shrug. Before Olivia could reply, Ortega brought the group to a stop. ¡°Here''s the psychologist."

    "Isn''t she a psychiatrist?" asked Clone.

    "What''s the difference?"

    "I don''t know, do you?"

    "Fucking I don''t know, man." To Olivia he said, "Shrink''s inside. We¡¯ll be on watch outside.¡± Ortega knocked on the door to announce their presence. Shrink?

    A deeply tanned middle-aged woman in a stark white tank top matching her teeth beckoned Olivia in with a wide smile. ¡°Come in, Olivia! Take a seat!¡±

 15: Contact

    Chapter 15: Contact

    <hr>

    Olivia took a few hesitant steps into the office, taking in yet another new office and person. She squinted slightly at the psychologist, Dr. Sullivan, as the afternoon sun beamed in through the wide open windows behind her. The sky! It¡¯s been so long. Ortega shut the door behind her.

    Several pictures adorned the office desk; a newborn baby, Dr. Sullivan in hiking clothes with a mountain in the background, some old ruins Olivia didn¡¯t recognize, and a wedding photo. A couple of knickknacks, one a small brightly colored human skull, the other a model of a white building with a dome on top and four towers in the corner, rested on the two tall filing cabinets behind the desk. What¡¯s with the skull? Dr. Sullivan¡¯s computer was powered down, Olivia couldn¡¯t hear a computer fan running. Oh, that¡¯s a nice touch.

    ¡°You can have a seat, if you like,¡± said Sullivan, motioning to a sturdy low stool with a thick pillow on top. A desk and a blank whiteboard had been shoved against the wall behind it.

    Olivia gave a tiny smile. No backrest! I hate those things. Olivia sat and tapped a long clawed toe on the floor as the doctor wheeled up a high backed chair, ending up face to face with Olivia a few feet away. OK. I have no clue what¡¯s going to happen now. Psychologists do brain stuff, right?

    ¡°I can dim the room, or are you happy with how it is now?¡± asked Sullivan, uncapping a pen and setting a blank notebook on her lap.

    ¡°No. Just, um, most people don¡¯t see really well in the dark, but I can see fine. I don¡¯t know if, you know, you¡¯re fine.¡±

    ¡°Slow down, Olivia. What are you trying to say?¡± Well I messed that up. It was stupid to begin with, but then I just kept messing it up.

    Olivia took a moment. Slow down. ¡°Um, I like the sun, and I wasn¡¯t sure why you would want to turn down the lights, because it doesn¡¯t really make a difference to me, and you won¡¯t see too well. Um, I think.¡± I have no clue how well other people see.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be fine, either way¡± said the doctor with a smile.

    ¡°Oh, OK. Um, sorry.¡±

    ¡°What are you sorry for?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry.¡± Darn it! ¡°I mean, I didn¡¯t mean to be weird. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°Alright, it¡¯s alright, Olivia. You¡¯re not being weird,¡± said the doctor. ¡°This is just an icebreaker session, but all sessions will be confidential. I will be writing notes, but I will always be listening, don¡¯t worry. You can share as much or as little as you like.¡±

    ¡°But this stuff is being recorded, right?¡± That¡¯s what Dr. Dabrowski said, anyways.

    ¡°By me. I will be giving them my psychological assessment. I will not share details with them unless I believe there is a risk of someone being harmed. That is what I mean by confidential.¡±

    ¡°Oh, OK.¡± Of course. I¡¯m a security risk.

    Dr. Sullivan nodded and smiled. ¡°You don¡¯t have to look so nervous. This isn¡¯t an interrogation. I¡¯m not scary, am I?¡± Olivia forced herself to relax. I guess I¡¯m kind of tense. That skull is still weirding me out, though. The doctor tracked Olivia¡¯s line of sight to the filing cabinets. ¡°Is this about the skull?¡± asked the doctor.

    ¡°Um, kind of.¡±

    ¡°Have you never seen one before?¡± asked the doctor.

    ¡°No.¡± Should I have?

    ¡°It¡¯s a painted skull. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not a real skull. I picked it up when I went to Mexico three years ago. You¡¯ve really never seen one before? They show up in Aztec art a lot.¡±

    ¡°I, no, I haven¡¯t seen one before.¡± I don¡¯t remember anything, remember?

    Dr. Sullivan considered her. ¡°I know that your memory has been damaged. What was the first thing you remember? I know the questions Dr. Dabrowski asked, but what I¡¯m asking for is your interpretation.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ well, I woke up,¡± answered Olivia.

    ¡°And the first thing you did?¡±

    ¡°I can¡­ I can hear really well. And, um, it hurt. It felt wrong.¡± Dr. Sullivan remained silent. What more do you want? ¡°I was confused. Really confused. I was scared, too, until my friends found me. Well, kind of found. I was awake for about a week before.¡±

    ¡°Kind of?¡±

    ¡°I was doing stuff before that. I wasn¡¯t, you know, just cowering in fear.¡±

    ¡°What were you doing during that week?¡±

    ¡°Just trying to figure stuff out. I didn¡¯t remember a lot of stuff. I¡¯m better now, I guess.¡± I know, I¡¯m weird.

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine you went a whole week without food or water or shelter.¡± Olivia tilted her head, considering the doctor across from her. Her words, while deliberate, seemed hesitant. Her body didn¡¯t tense, as if Olivia would leap at her given the chance, yet Sullivan seemed cautious. It¡¯s not physical. But she¡¯s still almost afraid of something. What am I looking at?

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. There was this abandoned apartment building I lived in. I scavenged stuff like food and clothes.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± began the doctor, brow furrowed. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me asking, how did you know to look for clothes? What was your thought process behind that?¡±

    ¡°Because people wear clothes. And I didn¡¯t have any. Why? Was I not supposed to do that?¡± Why would I not do that?

    ¡°I apologize, that¡¯s not what I meant. I¡¯m just trying to get a good sense of what you remembered at the time.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ Dr. Dabrowski asked a bunch of those questions already.¡±

    Dr. Sullivan frowned and rubbed the bridge of her nose for a moment. ¡°Unless you¡¯re in one of her test tubes Dr. Dabrowski can¡¯t see past her to-do list. She¡¯s a brilliant woman, just not very good when it comes to people.¡±

    That reminds me. ¡°Oh, yeah. Thank you for the stool. Because, you know, no backrest.¡±

    Dr. Sullivan smiled. ¡°You noticed that, didn¡¯t you? No problem at all. The wings must get in the way a lot.¡±

    Finally! Someone noticed without me having to tell them. ¡°Yeah, they get annoying.¡±

    ¡°But you can fly with them, yes?¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, that¡¯s fun! I can go anywhere, and the air is all cool and quiet if you get high up. And¡­¡± Olivia trailed off. I haven¡¯t flown for forever. They might not let me go out ever again. Those guards probably don¡¯t want me trying to escape. Stupid. I really don¡¯t want to be here, and I¡¯ll just get shot a bunch if I try to get out.

    ¡°And?¡± asked the doctor.

    ¡°Um, nothing,¡± said Olivia, looking down. Stupid wings. I wouldn¡¯t be in here if I didn¡¯t have them. And the tail. And the claws. And every other stupid thing that¡¯s wrong with me.

    ¡°Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ no. Um, maybe. No.¡±

    ¡°Is there something you don¡¯t like about your wings?¡± Are you serious?

    ¡°What?¡± began Olivia. ¡°They¡¯re ugly bat wings. You can see veins under the skin if I spread them. They¡¯re these huge things sticking out of my back, they get in the way all the time, and I can¡¯t sit back in a chair with them and my tail getting in the way. Do you know how many times I¡¯ve accidentally scratched something with my claws or whacked my head or wings against something low or hurt my friends when I tried to give them a hug or¡­ or¡­¡±

    Olivia stopped herself. Just¡­ calm down. Stay calm. Bad things happen when I¡¯m not calm. She took a deep breath and looked down. I know, I¡¯m weird.

    ¡°Do you need a moment?¡± asked the doctor with a concerned frown.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m OK,¡± said Olivia, eyes still fixed on the floor. Please pretend that never happened.

    ¡°Are you having any problems we should be aware of?¡±

    ¡°Can we talk about something else please?¡± asked Olivia.

    The doctor nodded. ¡°Very well. Something else then.¡± She tapped her pen against her chin for a moment. ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned your friends several times now. How did you become friends with them?¡±

    ¡°They helped me. A lot.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Well, I mean, they, um, they answered questions. Um, they didn¡¯t, you know, just run off or shoot me. Well, there was that¡­ one¡­ time. But I, um, I¡¯d stopped a mugging or two. Everyone just looked scared of me. My friends didn¡¯t, or weren¡¯t, or¡­ however you say that.¡±

    Dr. Sullivan nodded in understanding. ¡°Where did you get your name from? Was that from your friends?¡±

    ¡°I saw it. I didn¡¯t really know what else to pick. Because, you know, people have names.¡±

    Dr. Sullivan smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a lovely name, no need to get embarrassed. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable here? And I¡¯m sorry, but before you ask, I don¡¯t think Mr. Walker will allow you to go flying.¡±

    Olivia sighed. Figured as much. ¡°I liked those donuts.¡±

    Another smile. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to the chefs here. I¡¯m sure they can get more.¡±

    ¡°Um, books would be nice, I think I said that before. Oh! And music. It¡¯s super quiet in there.¡± Please don¡¯t say no, please don¡¯t say no.

    ¡°I think we can do that. I know the books you requested are coming. I think they should be here today. Any music in particular you enjoy?¡±

    ¡°Um, well, I don¡¯t know.¡± I know, I¡¯m weird. ¡°Just¡­ any?¡±

    Dr. Sullivan scribbled something down on her clipboard. ¡°OK! I don¡¯t think there will be any problems there.¡± She checked her watch. ¡°I think we are running short on time. Anything else?¡±

    ¡°Um, can I ask you a question?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Um, well¡­¡± Olivia trailed off. ¡°Everyone seems surprised when I¡¯m not, you know, a monster. Why aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Do you remember your talk with Cyrus over a month ago? That was recorded. We didn¡¯t have, and still don¡¯t have, much information about you as a person. We¡¯ve gone through every scrap we could find, and that one video was the best view of you we had. But my point is, I didn¡¯t see a feral across the table from Cyrus. Trust me, I work with the other intelligent ferals, I know.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡±

    ¡°You weren¡¯t making vague, half formed threats, for one. Slinky, when he¡¯s lucid, calls me Fleshy.¡± At Olivia¡¯s confused look, she added, ¡°Of course, he calls everyone Fleshy, but we¡¯re reasonably confident he recognizes me and a couple others who have been on the staff here for a while. Sorry, I¡¯m getting off track.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The doctor continued, ¡°A lot of people, even people here, were on edge when you surfaced. From what I could tell, you were just caught in a very bad situation, with no way to know what would have happened. You have constantly been quiet and considerate where, and I cannot emphasize this enough, almost every feral has lashed out at the first opportunity.¡±

    ¡°Almost?¡±

    Sullivan nodded and took a quarter spin in her chair, pointing out a book on her shelf. ¡°During the Renaissance, a doctor working at the hospital in Florence, one of the first of its kind, took to studying ferals. He also took an interest in ferals after one tore through a couple houses outside the city. What interested him is that the locals reported it spoke, and that not a single child under the age of twelve was harmed. A lot of our scientific understanding comes from his work, flawed as it is. Ferals are not inherently mindless, even though it would be easier for everyone to pretend they are. How many others were never given a chance?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m just trying to get by.¡±

    Sullivan smiled. ¡°You have my sympathy, it can¡¯t be easy.¡±

    I don¡¯t want sympathy. I want to go home. Olivia nodded. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, though she couldn¡¯t put her heart into it.

    If Sullivan noticed, she made no comment. ¡°Do you have anything else you want to talk about?¡±

    ¡°Um, no.¡±

    ¡°If you want to talk about anything, let me know. Just ask for me over the speakers in your cell, and I¡¯ll wrangle something out of the gun toting Neanderthals,¡± said the doctor as she got up. Olivia blinked. Wow. They¡¯re not bad. Olivia got up and followed her to the door. ¡°Clones, Ortega, we¡¯re done,¡± called the doctor. To Olivia she said, ¡°After this weekend I believe you¡¯ll be seeing Dr. Ruskov again. Take care!¡±

    The guards were waiting outside, lounging against the walls in boredom. They came to attention once Olivia left the doctor¡¯s office. With a friendly nod they began leading her back to the cell. A smell of cigarettes caught her nose well before they crossed paths with a familiar overweight man in an ill-fitting tweed jacket.

    ¡°Oh, oh, they¡¯re letting you out already!¡± said Dr. Grey.

    Olivia met his eyes. At first glance they seemed dark brown, but the longer she looked the more they looked steel grey. There¡¯s something strange going on there. And not the complete lack of emotion in there. They look too shiny. Dr. Grey turned his head to address the lead Clone, breaking her brief examination. She glanced to the side. Ortega also tilted his head at the man. He sees it too? That¡¯s creepy.

    ¡°Dr. Grey, please get out of the way,¡± said the Clone, choking out the please.

    ¡°No, no, there¡¯s nothing wrong with an honest conversation.¡± Stay away from me.

    Olivia hissed and uncurled her fingers. The doctor giggled, though he made the mistake of looking her in the eyes again. The iris¡¯ and pupils, never adjusted, never expanded or contracted. The veins of the whites appeared flat, painted on, details so small no human could ever see on their own. Those aren¡¯t eyes. Olivia sniffed the air. Beneath the cigarette smoke, he smelled human. His voice sounded human. But his eyes were a facsimile of the real thing.

    ¡°Clear it with the boss,¡± said Ortega, making a show of hefting his rifle. Two Clones, following his lead, did the same, one moving to move Dr. Grey out of the way. The doctor slipped to the side, allowing them to pass without a fight or another word. She could feel his knowing smile boring into the back of her head as they walked on in silence.

    One elevator ride later, she asked Ortega, ¡°You saw that too, right?¡±

    He didn¡¯t spare her a glance, keeping his eyes on the elevator door. ¡°Yes, yes I did.¡±

    Clone nudged him with an elbow and asked, ¡°What''s up? What did you see?¡±

    ¡°I need to talk with Walker. Face to face, no comms. Can you handle her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± said Clone with a shrug. ¡°What¡¯s got you spooked?¡±

    ¡°Bad feeling, man. Very bad feeling. Actually, can one of you come with me?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m stretched a bit thin.¡±

    ¡°Trust me. Right now.¡±

    Clone nodded. Olivia felt her hackles rise.

    ***

    Despite her misgivings about Dr. Grey, the weekend passed uneventfully. Olivia finally got a pair of books, which lasted her for half a day. Restless pacing and unrelenting boredom consumed the rest. The meat is the same every day now. Maybe I should ask about different foods. The first thing Monday, she received visitors. Dr. Dabrowski, along with a pair of Clones, took her to a large clinic on the bottom floor. The guards stayed outside as Dabrowki rushed off to grab something forgotten in her office. No one has said anything about Dr. Grey. I guess they knew what to do.

    ¡°Hello, Olivia. Take a seat, we¡¯ll start when Dr. Dabrowski returns,¡± said Dr. Ruskov, motioning to the rubber bed with the low cabinet next to it. Dr. Ruskov looked busy, typing away at a computer. Olivia took her seat. Aside from the cabinets, a glass wall on the other side looked out over a giant machine of some kind, a gigantic tube that reached the ceiling.

    ¡°Work, work, work,¡± he muttered under his breath as he typed.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°No need to apologize. It is my job, after all.¡± Why put up with it? This place has no sun or sky.

    ¡°Why, um, sorry. Never mind,¡± stammered Olivia. I guess he can just leave.

    ¡°Do you have a question?¡±

    ¡°Well, why are you a doctor? Why here?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°Well, I enjoy my job.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡±

    ¡°I was a medic for the Russian Army on the Siberian front for five years. The injuries I¡¯ve seen in this place are¡­ tamer,¡± he said, pausing as if choosing the right word in his head.

    ¡°There are a lot of doctors here,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°They all have different reasons. Some of them are fine to work with, some of them can get¡­ annoying.¡±

    ¡°Like Dr. Grey?¡±

    Dr. Ruskov smiled mirthlessly. ¡°William Grey. This place is a career killer and he knows it.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Well, those scientists, they get higher up in their¡­ pecking order by publishing findings and studies,¡± replied Ruskov. ¡°No one cares about whatever information comes out of here. Too small of a sample size to be taken seriously with unrepeatable data from each feral.¡±

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    ¡°Me? Well, I¡¯m just a doctor. I don¡¯t care for research. I tried it for two years. Hated it.¡±

    ¡°But the other people I¡¯ve talked to also have Doctor in front of their names.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Oh no, I¡¯m a medical doctor. They have scientific doctorates. Dr. Dabrowski specializes in xenobiology; I believe that is why she has been assigned to you. Dr. Grey, I believe, has a degree in neuroscience.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Yes. So the only ones who work here are the ones that can¡¯t get a job anywhere else, or have a personal interest in ferals. I know at least one man on staff had someone close to him go feral.¡±

    I wonder where my family is. Would they take me back? They would, we¡¯d be family. Right? Dr. Dabrowski returned, sparing Olivia the need to respond.

    ¡°Now, I¡¯ve been thinking about the blood sample issue,¡± said Ruskov, speaking up now that it was not just him and Olivia. ¡°I have a couple ideas that I would like to try, if you are willing.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Well, first of all, I¡¯m thinking I gave up on the original needle too easily. Just curl up your sleeve, for whichever arm you care less about.¡±

    Olivia complied. He pressed the tip of the syringe to her arm. It bent once he applied pressure.

    ¡°As expected. Never hurts to try,¡± he said as he tossed the useless needle in the trash.

    He grabbed a brown glass bottle from the top of the counter and a small cotton pad. Indecipherable medical terminology covered most of the white label on the bottle. I wonder if anyone actually understands any of that. The USMHD stamp on the bottle caught her attention. Meta-Human Unit? No, department. I think they¡¯re different. Like psychologist and psychiatrist, I have no idea what the difference is, but I know it¡¯s there. The doctor unscrewed the lid, held the cotton swab to the opening, and upended the bottle for a moment. Dabrowski looked up, jotting down a couple notes as he did so.

    ¡°This should weaken your skin for a bit. Should. You should feel a¡­ tingling on your arm wherever I rub this.¡± He rubbed the cotton pad on her upper arm. Hey, it¡¯s tingly. That¡¯s kind of cool. The doctor produced another needle, and pressed it to the same spot on her arm. It bent.

    He added a little more of the liquid to the cotton swab, then repeated the process. That¡¯s really tingly now. The next needle bent.

    The doctor nodded. ¡°Alright, never mind. If I use too much your skin will start flaking off. Maybe. I don¡¯t really know with you. Do you want to find out?¡± he asked, holding the swab to the bottle again.

    That sounds terrible. ¡°No thank you,¡± said Olivia, just as Dabrowski interjected, ¡°That might not be a good idea.:

    He smiled. ¡°I thought so.¡± He opened a shelf and rifled through the contents. ¡°Now, this is an iron needle,¡± he said, holding up a silver and grey syringe. ¡°You seem to be part dragon, and dragons are¡­ associated with magic. I doubt this will work, but if it doesn¡¯t, the government has wasted far more money than forty dollars.¡±

    I didn¡¯t know they made iron needles. The doctor pressed the tip of the needle on her arm. It slid into the vein. That doesn¡¯t hurt at all. His eyes widened for a moment, but he drew the plunger. Dabrowski began scribbling furiously. Her blood flowed into the clear plastic tube. He removed the syringe, opened a small refrigerator next to Olivia¡¯s seat, and placed the syringe on a cradle thing. The door shut as a mechanical arm came down.

    ¡°Magic, huh? I don¡¯t suppose you control it,¡± said the doctor, righting himself and leaning back against the wall behind him, stroking the stubble on his face.

    Olivia shook her head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve had your Wildfyre or S.P. shots, or¡­¡± he trailed off, frowning. What are those? ¡°Or would you be immune? Or would the shots kill you? Hrm.¡± He returned to his computer, his eyes flickering over the monitor.

    ¡°Shots? Wild fire?¡± None of those sound like good things.

    ¡°A shot will¡­ inoculate you against a disease. Those things I mentioned are diseases specific to magic users,¡± said the doctor, not looking up. ¡°Wildfyre burns you out, it will kill you if you are unlucky. S.P. is a parasite, it leeches magical energy. That¡¯s all I know, magic is by no means my specialty.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll need to monitor her for any allergic reaction to the iron syringe,¡± said Dabrowski.

    ¡°No. Um, I was cut with an iron knife thing before, and I was fine later,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Are you absolutely sure?¡± Dabrowski asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Nothing else has made me bleed besides a bunch of bullets,¡± said Olivia with a shrug. I think I¡¯d know what hurts and what doesn¡¯t. Then again, I am weird, so maybe not.

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem surprised by this,¡± observed Dabrowski.

    Olivia shrugged once more. Is she mad? I didn''t lie, but I didn¡¯t tell her everything. Should I lie? They aren¡¯t my friends. But it¡¯s still wrong. ¡°I¡¯m weird.¡±

    Dabrowski pursed her lips, but said nothing. After Ruskov gave her the thumbs up from his blood analysis machine, she brought Olivia to the glass wall. Olivia took in the device beyond, a giant white plastic donut set upright with several computers hooked up to it.

    ¡°I mentioned last week getting X-rays of you. After some delays, we¡¯ve decided this may be better. That is our CT scan machine, sized for some of the smaller ferals like yourself. This will let us see into your body without having to cut anything.¡±

    ¡°I remember,¡± said Olivia, eyeing the machine with suspicion. ¡°Do I do anything?¡±

    ¡°You just lie on the platform and keep still. The machine and technician will do all the work.¡±

    ¡°And it¡¯s safe?¡±

    ¡°Perfectly. Smaller versions are used in hospitals all over the world.¡±

    ¡°OK. If it will help.¡±

    For all the technological mystique and power the machine exuded, the process proved remarkably boring. Olivia laid on her back for nearly an hour as they scanned her, piece by piece. When they finally let her up, she had to flex her wings and tail several times just to get the muscles back in working order. She joined Ruskov and Dabrowski at a small bank of computer monitors, to find her own skeleton displayed front and center. Huh, that¡¯s me.

    ¡°What on Earth?¡± murmured Dabrowski. Olivia looked over her shoulder. She tracked Dabrowski¡¯s gaze to a small white blot on the back of Olivia¡¯s neck.

    ¡°You said dense stuff shows up white like bones?¡± Metal seems dense.

    ¡°Yes. That looks metallic. Definitely manufactured.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the tracker. It¡¯s made of iron, I think like that needle. We couldn¡¯t get it out.¡±

    ¡°Why do you have an iron tracker in the back of your neck?¡± asked Dabrowski, baffled.

    ¡°I was fighting a robot and it punched it in there. I think they said it was an Overlord robot. They kept saying that name like it was important.¡± And he hurt Miya.

    ¡°Overlord?¡± demanded Dabrowski, the color draining from her face, and knuckles whitening as she gripped the mouse. Even Ruskov leaned back in his chair, worry written plain on his face.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Why did a robot come equipped with a magic proof tracker? Why did it know to use it on you? Why on Earth were you fighting a robot in the first place!¡± Olivia could only shrug. ¡°Stay here,¡± said Dr. Dabrowski, hurrying from the room.

    Olivia sat in awkward silence, broken only by the computer fan. She looked to Ruskov and asked, ¡°Should I have told everyone about it?¡± She was freaking out.

    ¡°Probably.¡±

    ¡°Why would anyone here care about him?¡±

    ¡°You know about him, yes?¡± asked Ruskov.

    ¡°He¡¯s evil.¡±

    He grinned. ¡°Fair enough. He¡¯s bad news. I¡¯m sure we¡¯re safe. Regardless, I am still going to have to keep you here to make absolutely sure you don¡¯t go into anaphylactic shock or get a seizure.¡±

    I don¡¯t know what either of those words mean. ¡°Um¡­¡± began Olivia.

    ***

    They talked for the next hour, interrupted only once by a Clone sticking his head in for a moment. Dr. Ruskov scolded him for not knocking and shooed him out. They talked about different pieces of medical equipment, various diseases, the doctor¡¯s war stories, and so on. Dr. Dabrowski never returned.

    Eventually, they heard a knock on the door. ¡°Bosses want her back in her cell soon, getting close to closing time,¡± said a Clone, opening the door all the way.

    ¡°Very well. We¡¯ll talk again later, Olivia.¡±

    Olivia got down from the table she¡¯d been sitting on. But, but, fine. I don¡¯t want to get Ruskov in trouble. ¡°OK. Bye. And thank you.¡±

    The guards escorted her through the annoyingly small corridor and back to her cell. She found a surprise on her bed.

    Oh, a couple more books! And a little music player thing! After fiddling with it and the earbuds for a couple minutes, she clicked random. Loud, loud, loud. She turned down the volume, then scrolled through the various songs. She found a screen where the songs were sorted by genre. From the looks of it, they¡¯d put on a grab bag of different types of music.

    She avoided the louder, faster paced songs. Right as she settled into some songs she liked, the music faded. What? The earbud said, ¡°Olivia. Act like this is a normal song.¡± Olivia kept herself from jumping upright when she recognized Amanda¡¯s voice. What? Amanda! Amanda continued, ¡°This is a recording. I don¡¯t have much time, and I can¡¯t say much in case this ends up in the wrong hands. But stay safe, and stay strong, OK?¡±

    The voice vanished, and was replaced by music once again.

 16: Law of Entropy

    Chapter 16: Law of Entropy

    <hr>

    Olivia didn¡¯t get to leave her cell the next day. She got a fresh change of clothes and three meals, but no space to stretch her wings or walk around or do almost anything. Stay safe, stay strong.

    Day two. They let her out again. Right as she got excited about that, the guards took her to Dr. Dabrowski. Thankfully, she kept the inane questioning to a minimum, but then came a barrage of different tests. Tests for strength, vision, hearing, and reflexes. They took a few more blood samples and never answered her when she asked what happened to the last one. Stay safe, stay strong.

    Day three. They kept her in the cell again. A familiar scent caught her nose as the AC kicked on. A bare whiff, gone before she could grasp it. Stay safe, stay strong.

    Day four. More testing. Some the same, some different. Dr. Sullivan was even there for one of them. ¡°Do you recognize this object? What does this picture mean to you? What do you associate this word with?¡± Over and over. Dr. Sullivan assured her there was a point to it all, though Olivia couldn¡¯t see it, and they shuffled her off before she could ask. An ears, nose and throat doctor looked at her ears and told her they were healing as best they could. Stay safe, stay strong.

    The weekend came. Olivia paced, ate, read, and listened to music, cycling through those activities in a random order when not out of her cell. They¡¯re coming. My friends are coming. I haven¡¯t heard anything beyond that first message. Could I get out myself? Getting shot a bunch is not fun, and they¡¯re always watching.

    They¡¯d added a light switch and a bookshelf to her cell the fourth day while she was away. They made sure to tell her they could override her light switch at any time, but she could still dim the lights to sleep should she so choose. Turning them completely off was not an option, the complete absence of any light freaked her out. Can¡¯t see. I hate it when I can¡¯t see.

    Day seven. Another visit to Dr. Sullivan. This time, no Ortega, only two Clones. The Clones took her to the elevator, and this time accompanied Olivia instead of taking their own elevator ahead of her.

    Dr. Sullivan greeted her, then they settled down and began. Small talk, but better than anything Olivia had heard all day.

    ¡°What was the point of all of that stuff last week when you were there?¡± Olivia asked during a lull in the conversation. I¡¯ve been trying to figure it out, it¡¯s been bugging me all day.

    Dr. Sullivan smiled. ¡°They¡¯re trying to narrow down who you are.¡±

    ¡°Like, me now, or me before,¡± asked Olivia. They¡¯re really working on that?

    ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t know what the scientists were doing, they¡¯ll probably get around to telling you later. But so far as I¡¯ve been involved, it has all been trying to piece together what you knew from before to build your psychological profile. For example, someone from a farm may know farm terminology better than someone who has spent their life in a city or suburb.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Wow.¡±

    Dr. Sullivan nodded. ¡°They are still narrowing down the list, but we should have it for you within the week.¡±

    Olivia blinked. ¡°A week?¡±

    Dr. Sullivan nodded again. ¡°Say what you will about law enforcement, they¡¯ve gotten good at tracking people who don¡¯t want to be tracked. Goes with the rash of masked villains of late.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Thank you so much!¡±

    Dr. Sullivan smiled again. ¡°I have a surprise for you, too,¡± she said, getting up from her chair. She motioned for Olivia to follow. Surprise? I can¡¯t think of a surprise I¡¯ve liked so far. The Clones jerked to attention as they left the office. ¡°Did Mr. Walker inform you of today¡¯s plan?¡± Dr. Sullivan asked the two Clones in passing, in a tone remarkably less friendly than the one she used with Olivia.

    ¡°Yeah, thought you¡¯d be a bit longer,¡± Clone grunted in return. They followed them as Dr. Sullivan led Olivia down the hallway.

    Dr. Sullivan ignored him and addressed Olivia, ¡°Alright. We¡¯re going to the next building over. Let¡¯s get some fresh air¡±

    Fresh air? Fresh air! After Dr. Sullivan and a Clone, Olivia walked out into a hallway. The setting sun beamed in through the skylight above her and a window down the hallway. Olivia felt a small smile form on her face as she followed Dr. Sullivan. The sky! I missed you, sky.

    They took a right at a junction and came to a large conference room. As with Dr. Sullivan¡¯s office, the Clones stood outside instead of following. Olivia looked out of the window as Dr. Sullivan shut the door behind them.

    From her ground floor window, Olivia saw at least four spacious, open air enclosures, complete with trees and running water. A huge, bloated brown thing with six legs munched on some grass in one of them. All around, though, Olivia saw a tall, dark grey wall. Olivia thought she caught the familiar scent again, though Sullivan broke her concentration.

    Dr. Sullivan joined her by the window, wrenching it open. The humid air still threw Olivia off, but it still beat the stale indoor air of the rest of her prison. ¡°I am sorry your experience here has been so confrontational,¡± she said.

    ¡°No tiny cells?¡± asked Olivia. No fair.

    ¡°No. Some herbivores are actually fairly peaceable once removed from hostile situations. Most ferals do tend to calm down, but are easily agitated. The ones up here are approachable. Where you have been, the lowest level, is basically supermax prison for ferals. There is much more to the institute than you¡¯ve seen.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Could, um, maybe, um,¡± began Olivia, trailing off.

    ¡°Yes?¡± prompted Dr. Sullivan.

    ¡°I, um, I¡¯d like to fly again.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. But I think they¡¯re concerned you¡¯ll flying off and not return. Not that I¡¯d blame you, so far. Underground is not a good place for flyers, I assume.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ yeah.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about your cell too much longer. I think they¡¯re talking about moving you to one of the wings up here.¡±

    Olivia brightened up immediately. ¡°Thank you so much!¡± she said, trying hard not to bounce on her toes.

    Dr. Sullivan smiled. ¡°It¡¯s still a frustrating couple of debates away, but most of the staff here agree.¡± Most of. What about the others?

    They contemplated the view for a while, filling the time with idle chit chat, until Dr. Sullivan checked her watch.

    ¡°Do you have anything else on your mind, Olivia?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I, um, no. But thank you. Thank you so much.¡± I get to get out of that awful cell soon!

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me, they should have been doing this in the first place. But you¡¯re welcome.¡±

    They waved each other goodbye, and the guards began escorting Oliiva back to her cell. ¡°Is Ortega alright?¡± she asked as the elevator began to descend.

    ¡°Huh?¡± replied one of the Clones. ¡°He¡¯s just at a doctor¡¯s appointment today. He fucked up his knee a few years ago right before he got out of the army. Why?¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s usually here. And he seemed really worried when we met Dr. Grey last week.¡±

    Clone nodded, though he couldn¡¯t quite disguise the worry in his face from Olivia¡¯s eye. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t worry about that.¡±

    ¡°He seemed worried?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s jumpy about Overlord. Fought his bots a few times in Iraq.¡± The elevator came to a stop. Olivia and the Clones began the walk back to her cell, neither in any hurry.¡°He said something about the eyes looking familiar. Don¡¯t know what he¡¯s talking about, there¡¯s nothing high tech here for Overlord to care about. Walker said he¡¯d look into it, but that¡¯s the last I heard.¡±

    It¡¯s not that weird. Wait, it doesn''t sound like he knows about the tracker. How does he not know? Wait again! Only the scientists were there with me. The guards and the scientists really aren¡¯t talking?

    ¡°Did no one tell you guys about the tracker?¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    Clone¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°The what?¡±

    ¡°I was fighting an Overlord robot and it put a tracker in my neck,¡± explained Olivia.

    Clone stared up at her, mouth ajar. ¡°Why on earth were you fighting an Overlord robot?¡± he asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s what Dr. Dabrowski said.¡±

    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± said Clone, both of him coming to a dead stop in the hallway. ¡°The white coats know this?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they saw it on the X-ray thingy. I explained it to them.¡±

    ¡°Motherfuckers didn¡¯t say shit! Alright.¡± The non-speaking clone broke into a jog back towards the elevator. ¡°We¡¯ll keep you safe, alright. Let¡¯s get you back.¡±

    It was just one robot. Nothing has attacked me yet. Why does everyone act like I¡¯m being shot at right this moment?

    ***

    The next day, they brought her up to the surface again. Sunlight! There¡¯s still that smell, though, it¡¯s driving me crazy. Dr. Ruskov greeted her in a much larger and fancier version of his office in the lower level, along with Dr. Dabrowski. No tiny corridor to crouch in outside. This is so much better. They took yet another blood sample.

    ¡°There we are. You have very interesting blood, they keep asking for more,¡± said Dr. Ruskov, placing the needle in a small refrigerator.

    Olivia just sighed.

    ¡°Now,¡± said Dr. Dabrowski, before Olivia could ask what exactly they were doing with it all, or what exactly was happening with Dr. Grey. ¡°There are some matters we thought you¡¯d like to hear.¡±

    The two doctors put up a couple X-rays on a lit up wall panel. That¡¯s me, unless there are other people with wings I haven¡¯t met yet.

    ¡°There were a couple interesting things we¡¯ve found beyond the tracker,¡± said Dabrowski.

    Ruskov pointed to a blurry white spot on the picture next to her heart. ¡°That concerned us for the longest time, but after a while we figured out it¡¯s an extra gland. It¡¯s too smooth and uniform to be a tumor. What it governs we don¡¯t really know, but due to the type of interference involved there is a good chance magic is involved.¡± Of course. Magical nonsense.

    ¡°We¡¯re talking with a handful of medical mages,¡± said Dabrowski. ¡°If we can bring one of them in, they¡¯ll take a look at you and we can find out what exactly is going on. We might also get that tracker out of you while they¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Your bones are not nearly as dense as was expected, considering their estimated strength. But they are not as hollow as we would have thought, considering you can fly,¡± said Ruskov. ¡°Your back is densely muscled, no surprise there. Those muscles need to be strong enough to provide you with lift. Other than that, everything seems to be connected appropriately.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good, right?¡±

    Both doctors nodded. ¡°No real medical problems that I¡¯ve been able to find,¡± said Ruskov.

    ¡°The bloodworks told us a lot of interesting things about you,¡± said Dabrowski. ¡°You do have a couple extra chromosomes.¡±

    Olivia blinked. ¡°Um, what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°In practice? Nothing. For us, it means we¡¯ll be spending a lot of time mapping your genome,¡± said Dabrowski.

    ¡°The number of chromosomes is fairly meaningless except for reproduction,¡± said Ruskov. ¡°But that isn¡¯t a problem for you.¡± Hey! Or is it because of something else?

    Olivia¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Why?¡± Do I want to know?

    ¡°You didn¡¯t explain this to her?¡± he asked Dabrowski.

    ¡°I was going to ask you the same question,¡± she responded. Now what?

    Ruskov sighed at her response. He turned to Olivia and said, ¡°Well, Olivia, you cannot conceive.¡±

    She blinked again. ¡°Um, what?¡±

    ¡°During a feral trigger, all gametes are destroyed. Any that are produced later are sterile, but that doesn¡¯t¡­ pertain to you,¡± explained Ruskov.

    ¡°Gametes?¡± Is that something else I should be concerned about?

    ¡°Ah, sorry. Sex cells. Sperm for males, eggs for females,¡± clarified Ruskov.

    ¡°You considered having children before?¡± asked Dabrowski. Olivia felt her face flush.

    ¡°No. I guess I¡­ I¡¯d never thought about that, you know, before. But, you know, it¡­ it would have been nice to have had the choice,¡± she said, staring at her feet. So many stupid things wrong with me.

    ¡°You won¡¯t have periods. From what I understand, those aren¡¯t fun,¡± joked Ruskov.

    Dabrowski glanced at him before saying, ¡°There are other things we must discuss first.¡±

    Olivia nodded. Yeah, let¡¯s get this over with. They¡¯re just throwing a bunch of stuff at me.

    ¡°You really are about fifteen years old or so, based on your psychological profile and the blood samples,¡± said Dabrowski. Olivia looked back up. That¡¯s promising.

    ¡°What else did you, you know, find out?¡± Like, who I was? Narrowing it down?

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re still growing,¡± said Ruskov. Not what I wanted to hear.

    ¡°Um, what?¡± said Olivia after a quiet moment. No. Please no.

    ¡°You still have growth plates on your bones. And looking at the level of hormones in your blood and how tall you are now, you are going to gain about four inches, minimum. Between four and fifteen inches. That is a huge range, though, we¡¯re not very confident on those numbers yet,¡± explained Ruskov.

    Olivia sighed. Oh, for the love of God. ¡°Wha¡­ Bu¡­ How?¡±

    ¡°You seem to be in mid-adolescence, both human and dragon. Feral development, like everything else, is a combination of human and the second species,¡± said Dr. Dabrowski. ¡°The vast majority of animals reach maturity in a couple years, so even young teenage feral triggers are full grown, or at the very tail end of adolescence post trigger. A fifteen year old human is not the same as a fifteen year old lion, age wise.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t, um, you don¡¯t seem surprised by this, though.¡±

    ¡°Well, ferals generally suffer from gigantism, so this isn¡¯t unexpected,¡± said Dr. Ruskov.

    ¡°You said your friend who looked at you was a bone mage, correct?¡± asked Dabrowski. Olivia nodded. ¡°How old is she? How well does she know magic?¡±

    ¡°I never asked. She¡¯s a few years older than me. And I don¡¯t know, she knows more than me.¡±

    Dabrowski sighed. ¡°Self-taught mages,¡± she grumbled under her breath.

    Olivia hung her head. Gigantism. Great. I¡¯m going to get taller, and still have a tail and wings and claws and everything. Great. Wonderful. And there¡¯s still a bunch of stuff they don¡¯t know, and I could get cancer or a bunch of crazy diseases, and my reproductive system is all messed up, and it¡¯s never going to end, is it?

    Dabrowski opened her mouth, but Ruskov cut her short with a nudge. After a moment, he said, ¡°I think that¡¯s enough for the day. We¡¯ll talk more tomorrow, OK?¡±

    Olivia mutely nodded. Something caught her attention on the way back, breaking her out of her reflections. What was that? She looked around as they reached the elevator. That smelled really familiar. That was Chris? Chris! What is he doing here? Wait, dumb question. How did he get in here? The elevator doors shut.

    ***

    Olivia paced instead of sleeping. That message from Amanda. And Chris is here in the building. I don¡¯t know how, but he is. What if they¡¯re going to try to break me out tonight? Should I stay awake? What if they need help? If I need to do something I¡¯ve gotta be ready.

    She paced right up until breakfast arrived. Oh. It¡¯s just another day. Soon after, the doors opened and Ortega stood before her.

    ¡°You alright?¡± he asked.

    Right. I should have slept last night. ¡°Um, hi?¡±

    A corner of his mouth curled up in the beginnings of a smile. ¡°Hi. Dr. Dabrowski wants another meeting with you.¡± He indicated the direction, and they began walking side by side.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Olivia asked. ¡°Clone said you were at the doctor yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Yeah, I¡¯m good. Just a checkup,¡± he said with a smile.

    They came to a stop near the main elevator. Ortega pushed a button, then frowned as he realized the button didn¡¯t light up. Hitting it again changed nothing. Ortega froze as red lights began to flash and a blaring alarm began to sound.

    ¡°A feral¡¯s loose. Get back to your cell, now,¡± he said with urgency. He pressed a button on his radio. ¡°Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    ¡°Radio¡¯s not working. I don¡¯t want someone accidentally shooting you. Trust me, get back. I need to get to security.¡±

    Ortega confirmed she was moving, then ran off. Olivia retraced her steps back to her cell. Boot steps echoed from around the corner of a side passage before she reached her cell. Please no one shoot me, please don¡¯t shoot me. She looked for a place to hide. Wait, I smell something. Instead of hiding, she swung around the corner and nearly collided with Chris.

    ¡°Chris!¡± she blurted out, wrapping her arms around him in a bear hug. He immediately shifted to liquid form and pushed off of her.

    She froze. What? What¡¯d I do? Chris reformed back to human and staggered against a wall, rifle in one hand pointed at the ground. Is he hurt? Did I hurt him? Why is he wearing a guard uniform? ¡°Nearly gave me a heart attack there, Olivia,¡± he said.

    ¡°Oh no, sorry. I¡¯m so sorry. I didn¡¯t mean-¡±

    He smiled and stood fully upright. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and squeezed for a second. ¡°No worries. But we should get out of here first.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah. Right. I don¡¯t, um,¡± said Olivia, failing to suppress a smile. Chris!

    Chris cut her short. ¡°We¡¯ve got an exit strategy, don¡¯t worry,¡± he said, taking the lead.

    ¡°Right, sorry,¡± she said, following. ¡°But I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a way out this way with all the elevators not working.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said Chris. ¡°But there are a couple service elevators this way that Delta didn¡¯t mess with.¡± She tried to get control over her smile. Chris! And Amanda!

    They rushed down the abandoned corridors. Bad. She grabbed Chris by the shoulder. ¡°Wait,¡± she whispered. Soon he heard it too, the clatter of dozens of metallic bands twisting against concrete.

    ¡°What?¡± he whispered back.

    ¡°Slinkey.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he repeated, baffled.

    ¡°Another feral. That¡¯s the one you guys let out as a distraction?¡±

    ¡°No, we let out a couple of the smaller ones on another level.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s moving. I hear other doors opening too. Did you let out all of them?¡±

 17: Drown Out

    Chapter 17: Drown Out

    <hr>

    Chris pressed his shoulder to the bare wall, following Olivia. He gave her exhausted face another glance. What have those arrogant pricks been doing to her? We¡¯ll find out later. One problem at a time. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Slinky,¡± she replied.

    ¡°What?¡± The toy? He fought his rising bafflement and listened alongside her. She¡¯s never wrong when she hears something. Chris only made it down to the bottom level once, and only for the two minutes it had taken Walker to give his new employee a spiel about the dangerous ferals kept there. The scientists¡¯ posters made a valiant effort at livening the otherwise bare reinforced concrete up, the guards posted down here ensured the break room remained stocked to the brim with sodas and snacks, and the inescapable prison atmosphere overwhelmed it all.

    ¡°Another feral,¡± she explained, as the scrapes and scratching on the concrete became clear to him. ¡°That¡¯s the one you guys let out as a distraction?¡±

    ¡°No, we let out a couple of the smaller ones on another level,¡± he replied in a whisper. We didn¡¯t touch the other ones. There¡¯s some nasty ferals down here.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s moving. I hear other doors opening too. Did you let all of them out?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely not!¡± The scratches picked up in intensity, heading straight for them. Elsewhere, he heard shouts, screams, and roars. Several shots rang out, their echoes making them impossible for Chris to track in the subterranean vault. Fuck me. He backed away a couple steps, flicking the safety off his rifle. ¡°What¡¯s coming at us?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s big and weird,¡± Olivia replied, uncurling her claws and filling the hall with her wings. Promising.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± he urged her, right before the approaching feral cut him off.

    Shambling to their hiding spot came a bizarre mass of dull metallic hoops and partial rib-like hoops. Oh, she was spot on. Rather than slithering, the serpentine feral twisted its whole body around, heaving one segment forward, then another. On closer inspection, the metal hoops appeared pockmarked, more like bone than machined steel. Chris backed away and raised his rifle, not interested in fistfighting a metallic feral, but Olivia stood her ground, widening her stance and letting out a guttural roar.

    Slinky recoiled at the sight of a roaring Olivia, coiling low to the ground. Unsurprised, she backed away, her hands lowering and wings retracting a few feet. Have they seen each other before? Slinky took the opportunity to lash out lightning fast, hitting Olivia in the side of the knee with the point of a rib. Her leg buckled, sending her tumbling to the ground. Chris lifted his rifle as Slinky crashed over her. His finger rested on the trigger, unable to get a clear shot.

    A deep voice came from within the mass, speaking each word as if it struggled with it, ¡°Stupid fleshy. I learn.¡±

    With a snarl, Olivia backhanded one of the full hoops trying to pin her forearm, shattering the metallic bone with a spurt of green blood. She used Slinky¡¯s flinch to get half of herself clear. Chris fired off a few shots at the part of Slinky furthest from her. Even if the bullets missed or glanced off a thick ridge, he kept the hostile feral distracted. Beneath the writhing, Chris spotted an almost human figure, suspended from the thickest central hoops.

    Olivia could probably flip a car if needed, but with half a ton of metallic bone pinning her wing down, her strength worked against her. She got her feet under her and shot away, trying to pull herself free. Over even the distant shouting and gunshots Chris heard something pop. Olivia screamed and collapsed back to her knees, free hand going to the wing joint on her back.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Chris muttered under his breath, as Slinky wasted no time in engulfing Olivia once again, pinning her neck to the ground.

    His rifle useless, Chris shifted to liquid form and crashed into the two ferals. Even with all his unfeeling mass, he couldn¡¯t force the two to separate. For her part, Olivia thrashed her good side, striking yet another hoop and sending the broken bits of bone clattering to the ground. She still choked for breath beneath the bone pressing square on her windpipe.

    Chris shifted, flowing into the center of Slinky¡¯s mass, flowing around the grinding hoops trying to stop him. Into the bulky hoops he went, finding himself face to face with a small humanoid figure, partially digested. Limbs word down to nubs and sizable pits in its gut, the feral flinched back as Chris entered its personal space. Fuck, Olivia got off easy.

    Mangled though it was, Chris wasted no time in finding its head, or more specifically its mouth. He flowed over the feral, cutting off its own air supply. It thrashed into his liquid body, lifting up and backing away. Chris simply wrapped himself around its mouth tighter. Slinky focused fully on him, futilely swapping at him with the few hoops and robs it could aim at an unfeeling mass of liquid suffocating it. Its own protective case worked against it, stopping the feral from bringing most of its mass to bear against Chris. Its struggles became weaker and weaker. Once it stopped, he flowed out and back towards Olivia.

    Chris shivered as his body tried to return to normal temperature after being liquid for so long. Go, go. He reached his hand out to Olivia, ignoring the cut her claws gave him on his wrist as he helped her to her feet. They bolted from the shaken Slinky, still twitching. Not dead? Whatever. We¡¯ve wasted too much time already. Olivia kept up as best she could, face twisted in pain. Her left wing flopped around completely uncontrolled with every step.

    On the home stretch, so close to freedom, a heavy thud sent Chris and Olivia stumbling away from an opening in the wall, a cell they hadn¡¯t noticed. A green man, eight feet tall and bulging eyes, gazed at the pair. His gut dominated his lower half, bloated so large his heavily muscled legs splayed out to either side. A sack, easily the size of a basketball, swelled up on his fat neck.

    Chris ducked, right before a glob of dull orange spit sailed over his head and splashed against the concrete, sticking to the surface with a sizzle and rising smoke. Nope. Chris led their desperate sprint towards the elevator Amanda left functioning. Olivia followed after, hobbling along on clawed feet not meant for sprinting, with an injured wing trailing on the ground. The bloated feral hauled itself after them, losing ground even to Olivia.

    Close to freedom, Chris turned to check on Olivia. Beyond her bulk, he spotted the throat of the bloated feral swell once more.

    ¡°Down!¡±

    A hail of bullets hit the bloated feral in the side of the head, sending it toppling to the ground before it could lob its acid at Chris and Olivia. The body fell over, its body quivering with its death throes. They stopped in surprise. Around the side hallway came a guard, a Hispanic man who¡¯d helped conduct Chris¡¯ interview, two scared scientists in tow.

    Ortega locked eyes with a tired and injured Olivia and froze, heavy rifle that could probably punch a hole through her only half raised. The two stared at each other, whether calculating or surprised Chris couldn¡¯t say. He¡¯s not shooting us move move move. He grabbed Olivia¡¯s elbow and threw all his weight into dragging her towards their escape. The spell broken, Ortega rushed forward, still not shooting.

    ¡°Stop, stop!¡±

    They turned a corner to find the elevator Chris took down still open, just as he left it. Chris slammed the button for topside, and the closing metal doors cut off Ortega¡¯s next shout. Heavy breathing and the smell of sweat filled the elevator as it began its smooth ascent. Olivia winced and began contorting herself, trying to get a hand on her limp wing.

    Chris swatted her hand. ¡°No. Keep still,¡± he ordered. Shit. That looks nasty. I¡¯ve got about a minute until this elevator gets to the top and we get exposed again.

    ¡°But, but,¡± she began, eyes wide.

    ¡°Olivia, trust me.¡±

    After a moment she jerked a quick nod and leaned against the wall with her shoulder. Her injured wing left Chris with little room.

    ¡°Alright, hold still, Olivia. Calm, deep breaths,¡± he ordered as he eased his way towards her back to check her wing. Only by comparing the two wing joints could he tell something was wrong, the left wing hanging loosely from her back instead of in a socket. Human backs aren¡¯t built to have wings.

    ¡°Um, Chris?¡± asked Olivia, one hand bracing against the wall. ¡°Is it bad? Should I do something?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± he said. I think. She¡¯s got some scrapes and bruises, but nothing too bad. I guess I keep the wing still, don¡¯t know if that is something I should force back in or not. Maybe Miya will know. ¡°Just keep your tail out of the way.¡± After looking around a moment for inspiration, he tore off his guard jacket and used the body to fashion a sling for her wing. Should I keep her talking? That seems like a good thing to do. ¡°Lean down, I¡¯ll tie the arms around your shoulder. Does it still hurt?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Can you still function?¡±

    She closed her eyes for a brief moment. ¡°Yes.¡±

    He finished off the knot, keeping her wing pinned to her back as best he could. ¡°There. Is it messing with your breathing?¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Olivia stood fully upright, taking a deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I think.¡±

    ¡°You sure? How fast do you think you can move?¡± The comm in his ear connecting him and Amanda started buzzing with static. Got five seconds until that door opens up top. He motioned for her to back up as he pressed himself against the opposite wall. ¡°Don¡¯t stand in front of the door, it¡¯s about to open.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°I think I can walk. Running might hurt. It¡¯s kind of hurting a lot now,¡± she stammered, her voice shaking slightly.

    The elevator doors opened with a ping. After a moment, Chris poked his head around the doorway and saw an empty hallway. ¡°Hear or smell anyone close by?¡± he whispered to Olivia.

    She shook her head, then hissed softly. What? ¡°Just jostled my wing again,¡± she said.

    ¡°Sorry. Let¡¯s go.¡± Chris led the way out, stopping at a corner in the hallway of a four way junction.

    ¡°Chris, you hear me?¡± asked Amanda over the comms.

    ¡°Yeah, I hear you now, give us a moment,¡± he responded. Olivia tilted her head at him with a confused look. He tapped his ear and said to her, ¡°Amanda¡¯s on the comm.¡± Olivia gave a small smile.

    ¡°Yeah, I know I am. All the other ferals are loose,¡± said Amanda.

    ¡°Yeah, we found out the hard way.¡±

    ¡°No. All. All of the ferals were released. All levels, not just hers.¡±

    ¡°Did you do that?¡± That was only Olivia¡¯s cell that was supposed to open. Amanda had wired it so they¡¯d think a couple on the mid level had malfunctioned and released the ferals.

    ¡°No!¡± snapped Amanda I don¡¯t think so. Unless someone else is making changes.¡±

    Chris frowned. ¡°We¡¯ll, we¡¯re not staying in here. We¡¯ll stick with the plan as best we can.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Get her out of there. I¡¯ll tell you if anything else happens.¡± The comm went silent.

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯re heading to the maintenance building on the west side of the facility. Got a way out there.¡± He led the way down the nondescript hallway to the right of the elevators.

    ¡°No!¡± blurted Olivia. ¡°Guns and screaming down that way.¡± If you insist.

    ¡°Um,¡± began Chris. What¡¯s the quickest way now? Wait, the other way leads to the guard barracks. He spun around and pointed out the opposite direction of where he¡¯d been heading. Olivia nodded after a moment. I¡¯ll take it.

    Going down towards the main entrance, away from the others with a getaway car. Damn it, there was a nice tunnel leading to the garage and everything. We¡¯ll make due. ¡°Um, someone is ahead of us,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°A guard?¡± asked Chris as they slowed down.

    ¡°No.¡± She frowned. ¡°He smells like cigarettes.¡±

    ¡®He.¡¯ Sounds like she knows this one. ¡°Is he going to be a problem?¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s a scientist. A weird one.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t narrow it down at all but OK. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll push on,¡± said Chris with a shrug. I eagerly anticipate some nerd throwing a punch at Olivia.

    They continued on, until Olivia pointed out the side lab that the scientist was in. Sign says Bloodworks. Why would he run for cover in there? Curiosity got the better of him, and he gazed in as he passed, Olivia following suit right behind him. They instantly came to a stop at the sight.

    ¡°Oh, oh, my very generous blood donor! And a friend,¡± exclaimed a man, placing a red vial in a pocket in his tweed coat. ¡°So you¡¯re the ones I need to thank for this wonderful opportunity.¡±

    The pudgy, physically unimpressive man fastened the top button of his coat and grabbed a thick paper file off the desk. He gave them a brief smile through tobacco stained teeth, though something seemed off about his expression. More alarming, however, was the mechanical centipede about the size of his arm, coiled around the desktop computer. It noticed Chris¡¯ attention and uncoiled itself from the ports in the back. Then, without so much as a flicker, it vanished from view, though he could still faintly hear the skittering of its many legs. That¡¯s got to be an Overlord robot. It''s going up a wall. I hope Olivia is tracking it better than I can, because who fucking knows what else it can do.

    ¡°Who is this?¡± asked Chris, hefting his rifle.

    ¡°Dr. Grey,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Yes, yes, the one and only,¡± Dr. Grey added, keeping a wary eye on Chris¡¯ rifle.

    ¡°Is he going to stop us from leaving?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°No, no, of course not. I have what I need,¡± replied Dr. Grey with a shake of his head. ¡°Of course, I could ask the same of you.¡±

    We¡¯re here to escape, not pick a fight with an Overlord dude. Chris put a hand on Olivia¡¯s elbow, urging her to leave.

    ¡°That¡¯s my blood,¡± murmured Olivia, as unmoving as a brick wall. She must have read that little label from over here.

    ¡°Think about it in freedom. We¡¯ve wasted too much time already.¡± Finally, she allowed herself to be moved again.

    They climbed the stairs to the ground floor, where the civilian side of the institute worked. They ran past the HR offices and through the cafeteria, now completely abandoned with the mass breakout. Clawed feet scratched up the tile as Olivia skidded to a halt. For fuck¡¯s sake. Chris, too, stopped and looked over his shoulder to see the latest delay.

    ¡°Where did they come from?¡± she asked herself, her good wing spreading in surprise again.

    Chris turned back around just in time to catch sight of three figures turning the corner ahead at a brisk walk, each wearing a charcoal grey suit and red tie. They aren¡¯t guards. And they don¡¯t look remotely scared.

    The woman in the lead looked up from her watch. ¡°You¡¯re not who I was looking for.¡±

    Her nonchalance took Chris off guard. He opened his mouth to respond, struggling to come up with a response for a moment. They¡¯re not scared of a giant feral and a guy with a rifle. But they¡¯re not trying to just shoot us so I¡¯ll take it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. We¡¯re not fans of him.¡±

    ¡°Then why is an Overlord signal leading me to you?¡±

    Chris and Olivia met each other¡¯s eyes. We still haven¡¯t gotten that thing out. Your call, Olivia, I don¡¯t know what kind of questions those scientists have been asking about it. ¡°A robot put something in my neck and we couldn''t get it out,¡± replied Olivia.

    ¡°That¡¯ll do it!¡± the lead woman replied as she readjusted the sleeve of her suit jacket over the watch. ¡°Have you seen a certain Doctor Grey around by any chance? Male, mid fifties, overweight, smoker, fond of tweed? I have some questions for him.¡±

    ¡°Follow this hall, down a level. We last saw him in a bloodworks lab,¡± replied Chris.

    ¡°Fantastic.¡± A smile, all teeth and no mirth, split her face. ¡°Have fun you crazy kids.¡±

    Chris and Olivia, by unspoken agreement, pulled out of the way of the trio, not daring to breathe normally again until they were out of sight. Finally, a lucky break. With the smell of fresh air to spur them, they pushed on.

    They came to a set of broken glass doors leading to the exterior. A smear of blood streaked across the floor, trailing off to a side corridor. Not going that way. The two exchanged a glance before climbing through. Chris could now clearly hear the gunshots and screams, both human and inhuman, all throughout the area. Something outside bellowed.

    ¡°Almost there,¡± said Chris. It¡¯s a quick, one minute walk normally. This will probably take twenty minutes and another fight for our lives.

    They stepped down the broad staircase leading to the main facility. ¡°To the left,¡± he said, indicating the path next to one of the empty guard booths. They walked as quickly as possible, Olivia¡¯s limp getting worse and worse.

    ¡°Van ahead,¡± panted Chris, pointing towards the maintenance building in front of them.

    ¡°Something is coming,¡± said Olivia, over the sound of a couple spent shell casings getting crushed underfoot.

    A rasping shriek to their right cut her off. Down the central path to their right came yet another feral.

    Chris would have called it an ostrich, if ostriches were nine feet tall and had a set of useless arms in addition to useless wings. The feral shrieked again, revealing about four human teeth embedded in its upper beak. A two foot long neck stretched out of its distended and twisted humanoid torso, with the odd feather jutting out of its skin. In fact, the only areas without patchwork feathers were the skinny yet otherwise human legs.

    Chris glanced at Olivia. She¡¯s pale, her fingers are shaking a bit. She¡¯s in no shape to fight. Well, she could probably cut this thing wide open right now, but that might completely ruin her wing. He readjusted his grip on his rifle.

    Two shots rang out from somewhere behind Chris. The feral flinched as one hit it in the gut. Olivia faltered, looking at a guard tower next to the maintenance building. Forward planning is paying off. The feral backed off with another threatening shriek.

    ¡°Ben¡¯s covering us. Get to the van,¡± gasped Chris, spurring Olivia onward. He eased her off his arm and checked his rifle. He aimed at the feral as he backed away. The feral circled, keeping its distance. It¡¯s not trying to kill us? That¡¯s convenient.

    Miya opened the back doors, plastered with ads for the repair company they¡¯d stolen the van from, for Olivia and Chris. Rob, in only street clothes and his mask, started the engine as Chris and Olivia climbed in the back. Chris slammed the doors shut behind him.

    The feral outside rammed the back of the van, jostling the occupants inside. The impact punched a wide, three inch deep dent in the back door. Thank god the only windows are in the front of the van. Miya, Olivia, and Chris scrambled away from the door, further into the van. Chris aimed his rifle at the door.

    ¡°Outta here!¡± shouted Rob as he hit the gas.

    ¡°Um, where¡¯s Amanda and Ben?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°What happened to you?¡± asked Miya instead of answering Olivia¡¯s question.

    ¡°Amanda¡¯s picking up Ben. They¡¯ll meet us at the motel. And Miya, she got beat to hell. Grab that first aid kit under the bench.¡± Miya nodded.

    The van drove down the streets of Houston. They dressed Olivia and Chris¡¯ wounds as best they could in the back of a moving van, expecting at any moment for Rob or Amanda to announce the cops were on to them. Other than Amanda¡¯s brief call to tell them she had gotten to their rendezvous point safe and sound, no one said a word. We¡¯re not out of this yet.

    ¡°OK, no one is at their windows right now. You¡¯re good to go,¡± said Amanda as the van came to a stop. The trio in the back tumbled out of the van, Rob taking the van to dispose of it with several cans of gasoline elsewhere in the city.

    They hurried into one of the two motel rooms they¡¯d rented. Amanda opened the door for them as they helped Olivia up the stairs. Inside, Amanda had her helmet off, but still had a shock baton close at hand.

    Chris took a position by the curtained window. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll need to keep an eye out for-¡± Olivia cut him off, wrapping Miya, Amanda, and Ben up in a bear hug and lifting them off their feet.

    ¡°I missed you guys so much,¡± Olivia whispered. Miya gurgled, and Olivia relaxed marginally. Having been hugged by her before, I know that is a painful experience right there.

    ¡°Olivia. Need to breathe,¡± managed Ben, his mask dangling from a pinned hand.

    She finally released them. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, still about hip to hip with Amanda.

    Amanda twisted her back and said, ¡°We missed you too, Olivia.¡± She wrapped an arm around Olivia¡¯s waist.

    ¡°You cryin¡¯?¡± Ben asked Olivia with a grin. Chris felt a smile form on his own face. Olivia wiped her eyes and ducked her head. Yes. The answer is yes.

 18: Phoenix

    Chapter 18: Phoenix

    <hr>

    They skipped town upon Rob¡¯s return. Ben rode shotgun with him, while Olivia got the full back seat of the truck to herself. Even after Miya popped her wing back into her socket, her wing still ached with every bump and pothole in the road. Chris, Miya, and Amanda, none too keen on riding dead hooker in the back, took the backup vehicle they¡¯d stolen from Fort Bird on the drive to Houston. North would retrace their steps, South would swiftly bring them to a hostile Mexican border, and East would drag them through Houston proper, so exhaustion and nightfall brought them West to another motel, on the Texas-New Mexico border.

    Despite the lingering ache and discomfort in her back, along with stuffing her seven limbs in the back of a car, Olivia managed to catch some sleep for most of the drive. At first, she found herself confused during her waking moments when her neck got too sore or the driving brother had to hit the brakes, finding nothing but dry brown scrubland outside the tinted window. Where are the mountains? There aren¡¯t even hills. It¡¯s all the same. The road and hours stretched on and on just like the horizon hundreds of miles out, broken only by bathroom and gas stops until night fell.

    They crammed their group of six into one room at the Red Sun Motel. Amanda looked like she¡¯d been nodding off sitting on one of the twin beds. Those are some dark rings under her eyes. The screen of the computer on her lap let out a soft glow at a regular interval. She scooted over a couple inches for Olivia to sit down next to her and stretch her injured wing out. Olivia rested her good wing on Amanda¡¯s opposite shoulder. I hope she doesn''t mind. Chris, by the window, kept an eye on the outside. Rob leaned against the mini-fridge with a grin. Grumbling, Miya threw herself down face first on the other bed.

    Ben grinned. ¡°You feelin¡¯ alright?¡± he asked her, finally able to talk now that she wasn¡¯t sleeping or running.

    Olivia nodded. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m kind of sore, but not bad.¡±

    He gave her a light punch on the shoulder. ¡°Good to have you back. Got borin¡¯ without you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± she mumbled, ducking her head down.

    Ben took a seat with his back against the night table by the edge of the bed. ¡°So, how was your visit with Billy Science?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Olivia¡¯s head tilted to the side a few degrees as she stared at Ben in bafflement.

    ¡°Research place. With the science nerds.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well, you know. It wasn¡¯t great. I really missed you guys,¡± she mumbled to the bedspread below her.

    ¡°Hey, we won¡¯t let that happen again,¡± said Chris.

    Olivia gave him a small smile, then continued, ¡°There were guards everywhere and stuff. A lot of testing, too. I haven¡¯t gone outside in a while.¡±

    ¡°Testing?¡± said Miya, a dark look on her face.

    ¡°No, stuff like memory tests and eyesight tests. And I learned some stuff. About me. It wasn¡¯t all bad,¡± replied Olivia.

    ¡°Like what?¡± asked Amanda.

    ¡°Well, um, they think I¡¯m fifteen years old or so.¡±

    ¡°Oh, wow, we were right,¡± said Amanda. ¡°I guess that makes sense. That¡¯s about the average age for triggers.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m supposed to get taller, too,¡± added Olivia.

    ¡°By how much?¡±

    ¡°I, um, I think they said between five and ten, no, fifteen inches,¡± replied Olivia. ¡°And some medical stuff.¡±

    ¡°Any bad medical stuff?¡± asked Chris with concern.

    ¡°No. Well, maybe. I just have to watch out for a couple magic diseases. And cancer.¡±

    Ben stopped smiling. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Olivia, averting eye contact again. ¡°That¡¯s a problem for ferals, apparently. I mean, I don¡¯t have it right now, but that¡¯s still, you know.¡±

    Amanda wrapped an arm around Olivia¡¯s waist. The room grew quiet for a minute. Thanks guys.

    Olivia spoke up again. ¡°Dr. Ruskov was nice. And Dr. Sullivan.¡±

    ¡°Was Dr. Sullivan the psychologist?¡± asked Chris. ¡°Heard the name before.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I liked her.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Yeah. She, you know, she listened to me. And stuff.¡±

    Rob laughed, ¡°Well, we gotcha outta there. No need to be scared of that no more.¡±

    ¡°So what happened to the doors?¡± Chris asked Amanda. ¡°We were running for our lives from ferals¡±

    Amanda threw up her hands in exasperation. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been working on this whole drive. I went over what I did about ten times on the drive. There¡¯s no reason that should have happened. Did you notice anything weird while you were pretending to work?¡±

    ¡°No. Everything was behaving exactly as it did in the past week. None of the guards commented on anything strange with the systems.¡±

    ¡°Did you see or notice anything else? Anything at all.¡±

    Chris shook his head. Well, it¡¯s not technology stuff. Maybe I should say something. Maybe it¡¯s stupid, but Amanda looks really upset. ¡°There was that weird guy with metal eyes we saw,¡± said Olivia, nudging a confused Chris. ¡°And those people in suits.¡±

    ¡°Metal eyes?¡± repeated Rob. ¡°Suits?¡±

    ¡°We saw three people in suits waltzing through the chaos without a care in the world,¡± explained Chris. ¡°They mentioned following an Overlord signal to us. I don¡¯t know about metal eyes though.¡±

    Olivia spoke up, ¡°That creepy guy we met. Dr. Grey. He has metal eyes, not normal ones.¡±

    ¡°Fucking what?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t notice?¡±

    ¡°I noticed he was weird.¡±

    ¡°That sounds exactly like something Overlord would make,¡± explained Amanda. Oh. ¡°We were cover. Overlord¡¯s agent got out with whatever he could during the chaos, and as far as anyone knows we¡¯re to blame.¡±

    ¡°How did they know what we were doing?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they did. Or maybe he noticed me monkeying around. But the extra release commands came a minute after I opened Olivia¡¯s cell.¡±

    ¡°How long was Dr. Grey working there, do you know?¡± asked Chris.

    After a few keystrokes, Amanda replied, ¡°Just over a decade. 2002.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t there for ¡®liv¡¯,¡± said Ben. ¡°Shit, that¡¯s before the invasion. That¡¯s a long con right there.¡±

    ¡°Invasion? Siberian?¡± asked Olivia. Is that a dumb question?

    ¡°No, Overlord puppeted the local dictator of Iraq in the nineties. It took a while for everyone to figure out. Officially the US invaded in 2004 for entirely humanitarian reasons to dislodge him,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°Yeah, from all those oil fields he was sittin¡¯ on,¡± laughed Rob. Oh, oil, like what the robots smell like.

    ¡°Ok, we should have done this a month ago.¡± said Chris with a deep breath. ¡°The moment we get our feet under us, we¡¯re getting that tracker out of Olivia¡¯s neck. Amanda, Miya, that¡¯s you two. Rob, I know it''s a long shot but if you have any techie expertise to add, do it. If we keep jabbing his minions in the eyes, Overlord is going to notice us at some point.¡±

    ¡°I hear you,¡± said Rob. ¡°I wanna live.¡± Miya nodded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a way to do it safely,¡± protested Amanda.

    ¡°Then find one. Even if it¡¯s less than safe. We are not some forgotten minor project, god knows he has enough of those.¡±

    Amanda bit back a retort and nodded.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± mumbled Olivia. I shouldn¡¯t have fought that robot.

    ¡°You¡¯re alright,¡± said Ben. ¡°We just gotta problem solve.¡±

    The conversation moved on to lighter small talk, saving Olivia from having to field too many questions herself. And stuff. Why am I so bad at talking? Ben reached behind him without looking and groped around for the TV remote on the nightstand. ¡°Let¡¯s turn our brains off for a bit. Objections?¡± he asked.

    With no objections, he flicked on the TV and settled back. Everyone is so tired. With the murmur of the late night TV providing background noise, the group dozed off over the course of an hour. Just before Olivia lost consciousness, she heard a soft, deep snore from Chris, and Amanda leaning against her.

    ***

    They took turns showering and ignoring the smell of mildew while the other five shared a gas station breakfast of muffins and energy drinks come morning. Olivia rolled her shoulder and wing, testing the much improved joint. She couldn¡¯t fully stretch it without smacking Ben as he and Rob locked eyes and crumpled their empty cans on their foreheads. Why on Earth would you do that? she thought as they laughed.

    Chris spoke up as they finished, ¡°We¡¯ll need a place to go. They¡¯ll be expecting us if we head back to Westward, and they¡¯ll be combing all of Texas for us as well.¡±

    ¡°I,¡± began Miya. She stopped and bit her lip. ¡°Well, I was thinking.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Ben.

    Miya grimaced. ¡°There were things I wanted to do in Arizona, Phoenix specifically. I figured if we needed a place to go, we¡¯re already halfway there.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by ¡®things to do¡¯?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got family there. I want to see if anyone else I know is still kicking around. And I¡¯d like to see my old mentor.¡±

    ¡°Ok,¡± said Amanda. ¡°When you say ¡®see¡¯?¡±

    ¡°I want to find out how and why Overlord came for me. I want to find out who is responsible, and if I can, get good old classic revenge,¡± she said, far calmer than Olivia would have expected.

    ¡°Mentor?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Guy named Don,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°It¡¯s as good a place as any. Do we have any problems with going to Phoenix?¡± Chris asked the group.

    ¡°Sure, no problem,¡± said Ben the instant Chris finished. Everyone looked at him. ¡°What? Gotta stick out for each other.¡±

    ¡°OK, said Olivia.

    Rob and Amanda shrugged. ¡°Sure,¡± they said simultaneously.

    Chris nodded. ¡°Alright.¡± His gaze moved on to Olivia, who simply smiled and nodded. I¡¯m just happy to be here. I¡¯ve never been to Phoenix. I hope it¡¯s not humid. ¡°Phoenix it is.¡±

    ***

    Can I do a roll like this? Olivia tucked in her right wing and rolled, relaxing her left wing. Wheee!

    She rotated as she plummeted, the twinkling light of the city of Phoenix twisting around her. After reaching a decent speed, she snapped her wings back out and righted herself. Woohoo! It¡¯s been forever since I could do stuff like this. I haven¡¯t flown this long before, either. She circled over where she¡¯d last seen the others on the last leg of their all day drive.

    It took her a few minutes to find them parked at a dusty brick building, its roof pitted with corrosion. Beyond it lay heaps of twisted cars, old appliances, and other scrap lay in piles in a large stretch of dirt and gravel. Outside of the fence and barbed wire, wiry shrubs clung to life in the dry and rocky brown soil.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    I wonder how fast I can stop. She tucked in her wings fully and dove headfirst towards the ground. The wind rushed past her face as she picked up speed. Once she got close to the ground, she snapped her wings back out as far as they could reach. Her wings yanked on her back once opened, and her neck jerked at the sudden deceleration. The wing joints in her back screamed in protest. Ow. That was stupid. No doing that again. She drifted the last few feet down, flapping her wings as she landed close to the cars and Chris.

    ¡°Hi, Olivia,¡± said Chris as he tugged a large backpack out of the back of Amanda¡¯s car.

    ¡°Hi Chris! Need any help?¡± asked Olivia, lumbering over.

    ¡°Nah, this is the last thing. Amanda could yell at me to get more of her stuff later, but let¡¯s ignore that. Oh, I think this last bag in here is yours. How was your flight?¡± he asked as he slung his pack over his shoulder.

    She grabbed the small bag of her things they had packed before leaving Westward and followed Chris inside. ¡°It was nice.¡±

    ¡°No trouble?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Soon after leaving their motel, they hit mountains in New Mexico, keeping Olivia staring out the window until night fell and she could fly again. They discovered she couldn¡¯t fly quite as fast as a car on the highway, but it beat more cramped hours in the back of a car. No, no more tight spaces. And flying is so much more fun than just sitting in a car. ¡°What is this place?¡±

    Now on ground level, she could make out the sign by the road which read ¡°Cucaracha Recycling¡± with a smiling cartoon bug waving with a wrench. Another, on the roof, read ¡°CASH 4 CANS¡±. Two colors of vertical bricks made up the wall, forming a zig zag pattern up and down with red and brown.

    ¡°And what¡¯s that tree?¡±

    ¡°The tree?¡± asked Chris, squinting off into the dark. ¡°That¡¯s just a palm tree.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen one. It¡¯s so weird,¡± Olivia replied.

    ¡°An old scrap yard. It looks like it''s out of business. Rob scurried off to the back the moment he saw it all,¡± explained Chris, tugging the metal door open. ¡°I have no idea why, all this old scrap steel that wasn¡¯t worth picking over. I also have no idea why Miya wants us here, or why she knew where the key was hidden.¡±

    Inside, Olivia and Chris found the others, save Rob, dusting off old cots and getting settled in. The whole place was like the warehouse of their hideout back in Westward. Rubber feet of metal cot frames squealed as they rubbed against weathered concrete floors. The air conditioning shuddered to life, filling the room with a dull roar. The only difference Olivia noticed was the smell of different metals, rather than automotive chemicals.

    ¡°How did you know about this place?¡± Chris asked Miya as he set his backpack down.

    ¡°It¡¯s safe. I used to crash here sometimes,¡± replied Miya.

    ¡°Not the only one,¡± observed Chris as he looked over the dozen cots against a wall, prodding her to elaborate.

    She shrugged. ¡°No one else is here now.¡±

    ¡°Clearly,¡± Chris grumbled.

    Olivia studied Miya. She¡¯s barely saying anything. Her neck and arm muscles seem a little stiff. Why is she so angry? I thought she wanted to be here. It¡¯s home.

    ***

    ¡°Hey Olivia,¡± said Amanda the next morning, waving her over.

    Olivia finished off the last bite of her breakfast sandwich. ¡°Yes?¡± she answered.

    The only other person in the building at the moment was Miya. While Olivia would have normally avoided disturbing Miya¡¯s sleep, she¡¯d heard her grumbling for the past ten minutes. Rob spent the entire night out back, and Chris and Ben had driven to a local gym, more for the showers than a workout.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got something for you to see.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Olivia, walking over to where Amanda had her laptops set up. She kneeled down next to her to get on eye level with the computer screens.

    ¡°I got all of that data they had on you in the research labs organized.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Wow. So,¡± Nothing bad, I hope. No tumors or anything, right?

    ¡°That includes the stuff on where you came from. They¡¯ve got two lists. Missing persons and people off the grid.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t those, you know, the same thing?¡± Am I missing something?

    ¡°No, but there is overlap. Missing persons are people reported as missing. Off the grid means that the government doesn¡¯t know their whereabouts. A couple girls on the off the grid list are from survivalist families or cult members. Those kinds of people wouldn¡¯t tell the government that one of their own was missing.¡±

    ¡°So, who are they? I mean, the people on the lists.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot. About twenty, and that¡¯s just in the state of Colorado. They also considered people in neighboring states, though they are lower on the priority list. Other than that, I¡¯m not quite sure on how they¡¯ve assigned priorities.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Hang on, let me pull up a random one from the missing persons,¡± said Amanda.

    She scrolled through a list of files, then opened a folder. After taking a moment to look through the files within, she opened a picture. The girl in the picture glared back at Olivia and Amanda. She kind of looks like me. I guess. A little bit. But I don¡¯t think so. From what Olivia could tell, the girl had short, greasy brown hair and some acne scarring on her cheeks. On another laptop, Amanda opened a document.

    ¡°This is Samantha Weiss. Runaway. Fifteen years old. Left home for a month before you woke up. Last seen four days before, reported missing by a friend the day of,¡± said Amanda, reading off of the second screen. ¡°Cops said the friend checked out, no hidden motives or anything. Haven¡¯t had any trace of her since. Not quite sure why she¡¯s number two, that seems pretty indicative.¡±

    Olivia reconsidered the picture. She looks so angry. Kind of reminds me of Miya, actually. She could be me. But, maybe she¡¯s not.

    ¡°So, um, why is she number two? She doesn¡¯t really look a lot like me.¡±

    ¡°Time frame fits rather well. Near perfect, actually. As for the physical thing, that can change, right? I almost guarantee you weren¡¯t seven feet tall before. That, and hair color and eye color can change for anyone. Eye color is a bit irrelevant for you, and hair isn¡¯t really meaningful in any way. My hair used to be lighter when I was a kid, for example.¡±

    Olivia blinked and stared at the picture of Samantha. Eye color? Oh right, mine are silver. I know, I¡¯m weird.

    Amanda continued. ¡°Her nose is long. You¡¯ve got more of a button nose. And¡­¡± Amanda leaned in towards the screen. ¡°Pull back your bangs, let me see your hairline,¡± she said, motioning towards her own forehead.

    Um, OK. Where are you going with this? Olivia pulled back her hair.

    Amanda took one look and said, ¡°She¡¯s got a distinct widow¡¯s peak. You don¡¯t. OK, I see what they¡¯re doing now.¡± And that is?

    Amanda returned her attention to her computer and typed something. After a moment, Olivia said, ¡°So, um, what? Widow¡¯s peak?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± said Amanda. She took her eyes off the screen to face Olivia. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just an accentuated pointy bit in the middle of a hairline. But look at this.¡±

    Amanda tapped the other screen. Olivia thought she was looking into a mirror for a second. The girl looked like she¡¯d just finished a basketball game, if the uniform she wore, court behind her, and teammates in matching jerseys were anything to go by.

    ¡°This is Jaime Alsworth. Cops have her pegged as number one on the could-be-you list.¡±

    Olivia opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say. She found her words after a moment. ¡°She looks¡­ she looks a lot like me.¡±

    Amanda nodded. ¡°Not a perfect match, but really close. She¡¯s fifteen, and tall too. She¡¯s a basketball player, in case you didn¡¯t notice, just over six feet. Kidnapped four months before you popped up, a couple weeks before Christmas. No ransom demands or anything. Hadn¡¯t been acting strangely before, remarkably little evidence as to what happened to her.¡±

    ¡°Four months? That¡¯s a long time.¡±

    Amanda pursed her lips for a moment. ¡°Could have triggered because of captivity. Wouldn¡¯t be the first time that¡¯d happen. Kidnappers may have dumped you on the streets rather than deal with you.¡±

    Olivia nodded. Wait, just thought of something. ¡°I thought appearance wouldn¡¯t be a good indicator. Because, you know.¡± I¡¯m a big monster thing.

    ¡°The odds of taking someone¡¯s face, adding dragon, and getting someone else¡¯s face, to that extent?¡± Amanda pointed to the picture. ¡°That¡¯s rather unlikely. And she¡¯s not an exact match. Her cheekbones are less pronounced, her face shape as a whole is a bit more round, and those are some substantial eyebrows she¡¯s got. Little differences. There¡¯s one more they¡¯ve got flagged as possible matches.¡± But she could be me! Wow, that¡¯s kind of weird to think about.

    The first was a small, mousy girl. The picture of her was from when she was eight, but they didn¡¯t have a more up to date picture. Her parents had joined an anti metahuman cult in the mountains, and she hadn¡¯t been seen since. However, the aging estimate the police had used also looked similar enough to warrant her being on the list.

    ¡°Her name is Judy? Fuck those parents. That¡¯s an old lady name,¡± commented Amanda. ¡°So we¡¯ve got three names to go off of for now. Samantha, Jaime, and Judy,¡± said Amanda. ¡°Once we get back, we can start whittling down the list.¡±

    ¡°Wow. Um, thanks! Thank you so much, Amanda!¡± She wrapped an arm around Amanda¡¯s shoulders.

    Amanda grunted as Olivia hugged. ¡°No problem.¡± I didn¡¯t come close to breaking any bones. See? I¡¯m learning.

    Olivia heard an insistent grumble from Miya. Eventually, the grumbling clarified into intelligible words. ¡°Too early for cheery-ness. What time is it?¡±

    ¡°Nine o¡¯clock,¡± answered Amanda.

    ¡°Fuck that. Be quiet,¡± said Miya, raising a middle finger in their general direction. Someone is grumpy.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who wanted to be here,¡± Amanda pointed out.

    Miya grumbled as she sat upright and ran a hand through her black hair, finally growing out a few inches. ¡°Need a haircut,¡± she said. ¡°Get it styled at least. I miss my old one.¡±

    ¡°You used to have it grown out?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t shave my head. I used to have it down to my shoulders. It got to be too much of a pain when it got longer.¡±

    ¡°Even then I don¡¯t know how you two stand it,¡± said Amanda. You two? Oh, me. ¡°That much hair drove me insane.¡±

    ¡°You shove your head in that helmet. Of course it would,¡± said Miya.

    ¡°That, and burning hair smells awful,¡± said Amanda.

    Olivia and Miya looked at her. ¡°Um,¡± began Olivia. Why would your hair light on fire? That¡¯s not a good thing.

    ¡°What? I kept it long once, and it always got caught in soldering irons whenever I was trying to concentrate when I was working. That¡¯s why I keep it to a couple inches. And besides, why is your hair always messed up?¡± Amanda asked Olivia. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever do anything with it?¡±

    ¡°I comb it, like you showed me,¡± replied Olivia.

    ¡°Nothing else?¡±

    ¡°Well, why? It will just get messed up when I fly.¡±

    ¡°But doesn¡¯t it get in the way?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Um, maybe? I never noticed it before.¡±

    ¡°Braids are easy. Trust me, it¡¯ll keep it much more organized even if you fly.¡±

    The front door opened, and Chris and Ben walked in. Chris nodded to the three of them. Ben waved and said, ¡°Hola.¡± They tossed their towels and bags to their own cots and joined the girls around Amanda¡¯s setup.

    ¡°What¡¯d we miss?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Girly girl talk. Hair and boys and stuff,¡± grunted Miya.

    ¡°So nothing,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Yes,¡± confirmed Miya. She looked longingly at her cot. But¡­ we did talk about stuff. Not nothing.

    ¡°You just wake up?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Yes. Fuck mornings. Why does everyone else wake up so easily?¡±

    ¡°Damn it, that reminds me, forgot to shave,¡± said Chris, running a hand over the stubble on his face.

    ¡°Sucks to suck. I shave maybe once a week,¡± said Ben.

    Miya smiled. ¡°I don¡¯t have to shave. Sucks to suck.¡±

    Chris sighed. ¡°I hate you all. I have to shave. Even this stubble is too itchy. I had a real beard once,¡± Chris continued. ¡°Didn¡¯t take that long to grow.¡±

    Olivia, Ben, and Miya all blinked simultaneously. ¡°You? The boy scout? Really?¡± said Miya, first to recover. Ben grinned at Chris as Olivia tilted her head to the side a little. I¡¯m with Miya. Really?

    Chris smiled. ¡°Yeah. I lost a bet with a couple of my buddies. I couldn¡¯t shave or trim it for two months, no matter how stupid or scraggly it turned out. I¡¯d never grown it out before so we had no idea. The color of my beard was brown for some reason,¡± he said, motioning towards his blond hair. ¡°But the best part was in the last week before the bet ended, my barber, some Vietnamese lady, messed up my order and just shaved my head. I looked like a psycho murderer for that whole week.¡±

    ¡°Please tell me you got a picture of that,¡± said Ben, bouncing in his seat in anticipation.

    Chris sighed, the smile still on his face. He leaned back in his chair and dug out his phone. ¡°Yeah, give me a second.¡± He tapped a couple buttons. ¡°Here it is.¡±

    He passed around the phone. Miya and Ben snorted in laughter when they saw it. Olivia looked. In the picture, Chris smiled at the camera. He had about half an inch of hair on his head, maybe half the length of the thick brown hair on his face. Olivia smiled. He looks kind of funny. I barely recognize him. Olivia passed Chris¡¯s phone back to him.

    ¡°Academy let you get away with that?¡± asked Ben, still with an incredulous grin. The what?

    ¡°No. God no.¡± Chris shuddered. ¡°Instructors would have beat the shit out of me for that. No, that was in high school.¡±

    ¡°Um, excuse me? Academy?¡± asked Olivia. Is this a dumb question?

    ¡°School for powered kids,¡± explained Ben. ¡°Expensive, but I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s good.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, basically,¡± said Chris. ¡°They help you figure out what your power does and how well it would fit in a field of your choosing. It¡¯s basically a less militaristic ROTC. Find one in almost any college. I went through the MHU training course they run. Full year of modified basic training, really. Power is fucking with your vision, here¡¯s what you do. Golem attacking? Here¡¯s what you do. Had to take a couple classes too.¡±

    ¡°Amanda, you do that too?¡± asked Miya.

    She shook her head. ¡°A bachelor¡¯s in computer science and a master¡¯s in physics. Academy is accredited for everything.¡± Ben whistled.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s not fair, your power is basically electrical engineering on crack, right?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°Pretty much.¡±

    Ben nudged Chris with a grin. ¡°Where¡¯s your degree?¡±

    Chris shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t pretend to understand, I just shoot things.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d have stuff to help powered kids like that,¡± said Olivia. That sounds really cool, actually.

    ¡°Powers don¡¯t matter. Gotta help people. Supers¡¯ve been ¡®round since the dawn of time,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± said Chris. ¡°You go to the old places of the world, like Egypt or Turkey or Iraq, there¡¯s some strange, strange stuff there. And when I say old, I mean when humans were first figuring out putting seeds in the ground makes plants grow kind of old.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°In Turkey, there¡¯s this strange time warp thing. Throw something through and it comes out five thousand years older on the other side. No one knows where it came from, but archaeologists and historians say it¡¯s been shrinking, thank god. In Pakistan they found a perfect sculpture of a human brain carved sometime before the Pyramids were built.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah, like Stonehenge?¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Um,¡± began Olivia. I¡¯ve seen the Pyramids mentioned in other places. Never heard of Stonehenge though.

    ¡°Stonehenge is a sort of stone circle,¡± Chris explained to her. ¡°It¡¯s been untouched for thousands of years. Anyone who goes in the outer circle freaks out for at least a week. The rocks aren¡¯t weathered, they practically look brand new, and the altar in the center glows during certain celestial events. There¡¯s two others in France, right?¡±

    Miya and Ben shrugged. ¡°Hell if I know. How do you know so much about this stuff?¡± asked Miya.

    ¡°I took some history of meta-human classes in the Academy. I thought it was interesting, at least.¡±

    The conversation trailed off. After a moment, Ben said, ¡°We have stuff to do today?¡±

    ¡°Miya, you know the lay of the land better than anyone else, you have an idea of what we need to do?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Are you OK?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Just thinking. I should probably visit my family here, see if they know anything. Not looking forward to it.¡± Why not? Or is that a bad question?

    ¡°Do you want someone to come with you?¡±

    Miya shrugged. ¡°If you want. Probably won¡¯t take long.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I¡¯ll come,¡± volunteered Olivia.

    Miya shrugged again. ¡°Sure.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll drive,¡± said Chris.

    "Tonight, once my parents get back from work."

 19: Old Blood

    Chapter 19: Old Blood

    ¡°So,¡± asked Chris. ¡°Where are we heading tonight?¡±

    Miya scratched at an itch on her temple. ¡°If my family hasn¡¯t moved, they¡¯ll still be in our apartment in Little Mexico. It¡¯s been a while, though.¡±

    The AC of the scrapyard¡¯s office kicked on again, keeping the dry air from getting too hot and stale. Olivia lay on a cot with her wings flopped to the ground to either side of her and her clawed feet dangling over the edge. A pair of headphones covered her ears as Amanda gave her samples of different types of music. Rob still hadn¡¯t come back in from the back of the scrapyard since they¡¯d arrived last night. I should probably bring him back inside in an hour or he¡¯ll die of heatstroke. It¡¯s basically summer at this point. Ben idly shuffled a deck of cards he¡¯d picked up on the drive as he leaned back and balanced his chair on its two rear legs.

    Chris raised an eyebrow at her slow, reluctant tone. ¡°This is your show.¡±

    ¡°Well, we can go earlier. It doesn''t have to be tonight.¡±

    ¡°Do you want someone in there with you?¡± he asked.

    She shook her head vigorously. ¡°Nope. It¡¯s nothing dangerous or anything, just stupid family drama.¡±

    Recognition flashed behind Chris¡¯ eyes as he nodded without another word. Huh.

    ¡°Don¡¯t want any part of that?¡± she asked with a half-smile to set him at ease. ¡°Had enough of that already?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied. ¡°I was a dumb kid, especially after my parents died. I figure I already caused enough of that.¡±

    Miya¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Chris, I had no idea.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they died in a car crash when I was twelve.¡± Miya¡¯s eyes widened even further. ¡°Have I never told you before?¡± he asked, noticing her reaction.

    ¡°No!¡± You forgot if you even dropped that until just now? In the middle of asking me for day planning?

    ¡°Oh, I thought I did.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re very calm about this.¡± I was just expecting some commiseration.

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m not happy about it, but there¡¯s not much I can do about it. It¡¯s been ten years.¡± Despite his protest, he didn¡¯t meet her piercing gaze, instead fumbling as he tried to spin his key ring around his finger.

    A heavy knock on the door of their supposed safe house froze everyone inside.

    ¡°Miya!¡± called out a familiar voice with a painful rasp that made her own throat muscles wince in sympathy. ¡°We need to talk.¡± God damn it.

    Chris caught her look of recognition as Ben teleported to the nearest front window and Amanda and Olivia stood from their cots. ¡°Do you know who that is?¡±

    With a sigh she replied, ¡°That¡¯s Roach, he¡¯s with the Phoenix Watch.¡± God, he¡¯s going to make the others bring up so many questions. Why couldn¡¯t he just leave me alone? Fuck. How did he even know I was here?

    ¡°You trust him?¡± asked Ben.

    Miya shrugged. ¡°Kind of?¡±

    ¡°Kind of? What do you mean kind of?¡± demanded Chris.

    ¡°He¡¯s a local, I don¡¯t know what to call him. He runs a lot of stuff in Little Mexico here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just him,¡± pointed out Ben from the window. ¡°Probably not here for a fight. Or he is and we¡¯re fucked.¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s not like that, and if it¡¯s just him he just wants to talk,¡± grumbled Miya as she stomped over to the door and yanked it open. At least he didn¡¯t call the cops.

    In walked a bowling ball of a middle-aged man, his skin covered in a haphazard web of scars both old and new. The soles of his leather boots clicked against the concrete floor. Tanned, even for an Aztec, by a lifetime in the sun, he stood only a little taller than the brothers. Calm brown eyes, lopsided from some old, horrific head wound long since healed, took in each of them in turn, not flinching even at the sight of Olivia. He carried no visible weapon, and his simple jeans and button-down shirt didn¡¯t provide much concealment for a hidden one.

    Removing his hat with a respectful nod to the group, he rasped, ¡°Hello.¡±

    Off balance from the polite strange man, the others mumbled various hello¡¯s back at him. His ironclad commitment to pointless formalities sated, he turned his attention fully to Miya, gaze only briefly flicking up to her shaved hair finally growing back.

    ¡°Miya. Good to see you¡¯re alive.¡± he said, the two old scars on his throat turning red with prolonged speech. Now that he wasn¡¯t shouting to be heard through a wall, the rasp receded to tolerable levels and Miya¡¯s throat could relax.

    ¡°You¡¯re a little late for that.¡± It¡¯s been like half a year.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± he said. He glanced at the others once again, this time shifting his stance wider. ¡°Are you here willingly?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Phoenix, not really. This place sucks, I¡¯m just here to check in on my family.¡± Out of the corner of her eye, Chris glanced at her, though said nothing.

    Tension drained from his body at her answer. ¡°Where have you been?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Kidnapped by Overlord,¡± said Miya, as if it were obvious.

    ¡°Overlord,¡± Roach repeated, suspicion and doubt heavy in his voice. ¡°Truly?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± called out a soft voice it took Miya a moment to recognize as Olivia¡¯s from the back of the group. Amanda and Ben both did double takes as they came to the same realization. ¡°We¡¯re her friends. We helped her escape.¡±

    Roach nodded slowly, considering. ¡°The Watch searched for you.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± asked Miya. Why? No one cared about a dime a dozen little Mexica chick before.

    ¡°Yes. There was no trace.¡± His voice cracked on the last word. ¡°What use does Overlord have for a mage? He deals in robots. Machines.¡±

    ¡°He wants to deal in magic too. He can¡¯t make a robot to do it so he¡¯s trying to use a human in the same way,¡± replied Miya, fighting back a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance at him causing said embarrassment. God. Why do you even care? ¡°Wait, how do you even know I¡¯m a mage? I never told anyone.¡±

    ¡°We asked Don. He squirmed but knew. Who else here? The Baron is no teacher.¡± At least he had the decency to not mention the university she could never afford.

    ¡°That little fucking rat,¡± she spat. Yeah, I got on Overlord¡¯s radar because of him.

    ¡°Has Overlord been active in this city?¡± asked Chris.

    Roach shook his head. ¡°Two months ago, I would say no. Now? We are not sure.¡±

    ¡°Two months, not just because of Miya?¡± pushed Chris.

    ¡°Yes,¡± replied Roach, his blunt tone stonewalling the notion he would elaborate further. ¡°Though this raises a question. What else are you here for?¡±

    ¡°Just visiting family,¡± said Miya, sticking to her story.

    ¡°Miya, did you think I wasn¡¯t paying attention?¡±

    ¡°I mean, kind of, yeah.¡±

    ¡°No. Here. Two cars, out of state? This is a place for kids if they have nowhere else. You know this.¡± His eyes took in their group once again. ¡°I see no other kids. Maybe not even you.¡± She could feel Chris, Olivia, and Amanda¡¯s gazes boring into the back of her head. Maybe even Ben¡¯s.

    ¡°Fuck off, I¡¯m eighteen, not some kid.¡±

    ¡°And you are here again. Who is this place for?¡± he asked, his patient expression never wavering.

    ¡°Fuck off.¡± Even as the words left her mouth, she realized how toothless the repeated insult sounded. God, you¡¯re such an overbearing jackass. Why do you even care?

    ¡°Why an old scrap yard?¡± asked Chris, filling the awkward silence.

    With a shrug, Roach replied, ¡°It was available at the time. We all make do with what we have.¡±

    Miya recovered and asked, ¡°How did you even know it was me?¡±

    ¡°Cameras.¡± Before Miya¡¯s face could darken, he added, ¡°Outside. I am not blind. Or a moron. This will not be a place for parties. Even if I keep my distance from it. In that spirit, I would ask.¡± He coughed to clear his throat. ¡°You don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±

    ¡°Oh please,¡± Miya replied with a roll of her eyes. ¡°Nothing ever happens here,¡± Is this some stupid power play? Are you going to start beating your chest next?

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Things have changed. Since you left.¡±

    ¡°Two months ago, maybe?¡± asked Amanda, a faux innocent smile on her face.

    Roach sighed. ¡°Yes. There has been gang activity. And federal agents, though they tell us nothing.¡±

    ¡°Being told nothing must suck,¡± said Amanda with a sympathetic nod.

    Roach cracked a brief smile and replied, ¡°They would be fools to tell people they barely trust everything. But stay clear of the green skull tags. They are not a normal gang. There is one on Don¡¯s shop.¡± Miya¡¯s ears perked up at the last comment, thrown out so casually it had to be deliberate. Roach continued, his voice growing weaker with prolonged talked. ¡°As I said. Don¡¯t do anything stupid. You may not be the one to pay. You are not the only one.¡± Another throat clear. ¡°Who has used this place. Or the last. I would keep it this way.¡±

    ¡°Good to know,¡± said Chris, his face impassive and unreadable.

    ¡°I have taken enough of your time,¡± said Roach. ¡°Consider my words and have a good day.¡±

    With a nod to the group at large, he left at an unhurried pace. Miya followed him to the doorway, keeping an eye on him. Roach¡¯s pickup, as old, weathered, and rugged as the man himself though only half the size of Rob¡¯s behemoth, started smoothly despite its outward appearance. Past the small American flag decal in the rear window, Miya spotted Roach twist in his seat to give the group one last look before turning right out of the small parking lot.

    ¡°Everything he does pisses me off,¡± Miya grumbled as she slammed the door shut behind her, once Roach disappeared down the road.

    ¡°So,¡± said Chris. Anger flashed across Miya¡¯s face, but he pushed on unfazed. ¡°Any new thoughts on what we¡¯ll be doing today?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, the same thing but faster,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Got a history here, huh?¡± asked Ben with a grin.

    He leaned his back against the wall, one foot pressed against it as well, with his arms folded. Chris and Olivia studied Miya, one impassive, one concerned. Olivia¡¯s tail twitched back and forth, sending a small pebble someone tracked in skittering across the floor. Amanda, at least, returned to her cot to start packing up the headphones and tablet she and Olivia left behind meeting their unexpected guest, though she kept one ear on the conversation.

    ¡°No shit, I lived here my whole life,¡± Miya shot back. ¡°I¡¯ll talk with my family, see if they¡¯ll be any more helpful than that dick, then I¡¯ll pay Don a visit.¡±

    ¡°Yes to that first half. Let¡¯s hold off on that Don visit,¡± said Chris.

    ¡°What, his shop is in some gang¡¯s territory and that mean¡¯s they give a shit? No, he¡¯s an antisocial loser hawking amulets and dusty old books,¡± said Miya with a wave of her hand.

    ¡°This was your magic teacher?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather know that than hope that. I get it. You want answers. But there¡¯s only six of us and we can¡¯t run in guns blazing,¡± said Chris. Miya rolled her eyes and bit her tongue. For fuck¡¯s sake. Roach comes in and everyone starts doubting me. Of course. ¡°To that end, let¡¯s see what your family has to say.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go.¡±

    ¡°Um, I don¡¯t think I should be flying around in the daytime,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, you really don¡¯t need to be there,¡± said Miya. It¡¯s not like you¡¯re going to be walking with me anyways. You¡¯ll just be sitting outside, bored, with Chris.

    ¡°I thought I was, but, OK,¡± stammered Olivia, staring at the ground.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, we¡¯ll be back. Oh, and don¡¯t let Rob get fried by the sun,¡± Miya called out over her shoulder as she left with Chris.

    ***

    On the outskirts of Little Mexico, their hideout wasn¡¯t a long drive from Miya¡¯s family. Cuauht¨¦moc hadn¡¯t done Aztec ex-pats any favors in the past, even though Miya¡¯s family had fled Mexico because of one of his decennial purges. Latin American proxy wars may have taken the place of brutal wars of conquest lead by an immortal bronze age God-King in the last century, but those still had a habit of spilling over to all neighbors involved. Gazing out over sun-bleached tenements, Miya thought, At least he finally stopped all human sacrifices in the seventies. That was a plus. It only took him four hundred years to catch up to the times. Give him another two hundred and he¡¯ll stop pouring money into the Caste War.

    ¡°Do you think you could help Amanda?¡± asked Chris, breaking her train of thought.

    ¡°With what?¡±

    ¡°The tracking chip in Olivia¡¯s neck. I know Amanda didn¡¯t want to burn out anything sensitive in Olivia¡¯s spine, but we¡¯ve left that thing in there for far too long and it¡¯s going to keep biting us in the ass. I¡¯m hoping between you, Amanda, and Rob, we can figure it out.¡±

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll help.¡± I¡¯ll pay that help forward. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what I can do, though. I work with bone.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s my plan: we get the chip out of Olivia, we get Don, and we get out of town as fast as possible. It doesn¡¯t matter what order we do those first two as long as we do them. You don¡¯t seem to want to stick around and no one else here cares about this place. And with the chip¡¯s last location being here, if Overlord wants to track Olivia down he can have fun wandering the desert.¡±

    ¡°He could figure out where we are pretty easily anyways.¡±

    ¡°If he were that all seeing he wouldn¡¯t need a tracker,¡± countered Chris. ¡°It¡¯s not perfect, but it¡¯s what I¡¯ve got. Anyways, you¡¯re the closest thing we have to a medic and I don¡¯t want us accidentally frying Olivia¡¯s brain or whatever Amanda winds up doing. Fucking techies. They have a million projects they¡¯ll get distracted by. I¡¯m going to have to keep on them and you¡¯re going to have to help with that. You¡¯ll have more visibility into that than a knuckle dragger like me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no genius like her, but I¡¯ll try.¡±

    At her direction, Chris pulled into a far lot of a small apartment complex. ¡°Give me a text if you need anything,¡± he said, eyeing the graffiti and group of teen boys loitering at a playground, several checking out the new arrival.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Miya grumbled.

    She jogged up the exterior stairs of her old apartment building. Someone had spray painted a bright green skull with a wide tongue sticking out of its mouth on the brick wall. That¡¯s new. And kind of creepy. She reached the third floor and stopped four doors in, taking a deep breath. Let¡¯s get this over with. She pounded on the front door. After some muffled shouting from within, the door opened.

    ¡°Hey, Cam,¡± Miya said in Nahua to the fourteen-year-old kid who opened the door. Cam gaped as she reached up to ruffle his hair. He frowned and ducked out from under her hand.

    ¡°Miya? What the hell happened to you? Where have you been?¡± he exclaimed.

    ¡°Good to see you too,¡± she said, arching an eyebrow.

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I got kidnapped. Is this how-¡±

    Cam leaned forward and wrapped her up in a hug, catching her off guard. ¡°We thought you ran off. Or died. No one could tell us anything.¡±

    She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed as she patted her brother on the back. ¡°I¡¯m still alive,¡± she replied, muffled by his shirt. At least you cared. Maybe this won¡¯t be so bad. Miya fought back a sniffle as they separated and said, ¡°What have I missed? I¡¯ve been seeing a bunch of new tags around. The green ones.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± said Cam with a frown. ¡°Those are the Tzontlis. They sprang up a couple months ago. Police haven¡¯t been able to do much about them.¡±

    Oh, yet another Aztec gang. Great. Like we don¡¯t have a bad enough reputation already. ¡°The Skulls?¡± translated Miya. ¡°Really? That¡¯s kind of lame.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re kind of real dangerous. They killed three MHU officers, and Mica.¡± Mica was the only super they had in the MHU. That¡¯s why Roach was jumpy. Miya nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully. The Watch might be annoying with Roach but the MHU probably won¡¯t give a shit about us.

    ¡°Can I come in?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± said Cam, getting out of her way. ¡°Mom and dad aren¡¯t here.¡±

    A shout cut him off. ¡°Miya? What the fuck are you doing here?¡± called out her oldest brother, Ollin. He¡¯d gained weight in the last six months since Miya had seen him, if his now protruding gut was anything to go by. Metabolism isn¡¯t your friend anymore. Five years older than Miya at twenty-three, he stood up and glared at her.

    Him and her other two brothers, two and three years older than her, crowded around the dinner table. They didn¡¯t join Ollin in standing but tensed in anticipation of doing so. Aw, they all have matching hammer and sickle tattoos on their shoulders now. How adorable. A man on the TV in the adjacent room shouted some sort of speech, Miya didn¡¯t bother to pay attention to it.

    ¡°Just coming back home. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Where are mom and dad?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Father¡¯s too sick to work. Mother¡¯s working night shift now, sleeping,¡± responded Ollin.

    ¡°Sick? What happened?¡±

    Cam answered her. ¡°He got a nasty cut. He¡¯s been sick for the past week.¡±

    ¡°Shut up, Cam,¡± said Ollin. Cam shut his mouth and shrank back. ¡°Where the fuck have you been?¡± he asked Miya.

    ¡°Oh, I was kidnapped. No big deal. Just wanted to come back, get my stuff,¡± she said, forcing a calm voice. She leaned against a wall behind her, not taking her eyes off her brothers.

    ¡°We got rid of all that.¡±

    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me? When did you decide to just write me off?¡± Miya¡¯s hands balled into fists before she forced herself to relax. Not unexpected. Still, fuck him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, sometime in February. You think it¡¯s a good idea to come back here after running off?¡± he said, glowering at her.

    Fuck this politeness shit. ¡°Two months? And running off?¡± repeated Miya, raising her voice. ¡°Running off? What part of kidnapping did you not understand, dipshit?¡±

    ¡°Bullshit. Why the fuck would someone kidnap you? Don¡¯t fucking try to come up with some sob story for sympathy,¡± said Ollin, voice rising as well.

    ¡°Did you even bother to try to figure out where I was? Did you even give a shit?¡± Miya shouted back, pushing off against the wall to shove a finger in Ollin¡¯s face. Good thing everyone in my family is short.

    Cam had withdrawn to the far side of the couch in the other room, eyes glued to the TV. Miya¡¯s other two brothers had stood as well, still at the table. They¡¯ll just follow Ollin. Mom and dad are just trying to get through the day, they were probably grateful for one less mouth to feed.

    ¡°Why should we? You were always a spiteful, ungrateful little bitch anyways. Never did anything for the family.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t worked a day in your life. Too fucking lazy to-¡± shouted Miya.

    Ollin cut her off with a backhand across her face. ¡°Done. Out,¡± he said, his voice devoid of its earlier heat.

    She held a hand to her nose to stifle the blood flow as Ollin loomed over her. Nose isn¡¯t broken. Hurts like shit. ¡°Fine,¡± she spat. She turned around and ripped the door open. ¡°Hope you enjoy living in a shithole for the rest of your life,¡± she called out over her shoulder.

    Whatever Ollin was about to say was cut off when Miya slammed the door shut. She backed away. Is he going to come charging out, or is he going to blow me off? After a moment, the door did not reopen. What a fucking waste of my time.

    Miya took a moment to stop the flow of blood from her nose at the head of the staircase leading back to the car. A little magic couldn¡¯t hurt. There we go. She stomped back down the stairs, wiping the last bit of blood from her nose. Chris waited outside the car in the parking lot behind the apartment building.

    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Chris once Miya got close.

    ¡°Family argument, nothing more,¡± said Miya as he leaned down to start the car.

    Chris drove off as Miya got settled in her seat. Damn it. It¡¯s done and over with. Miya bit her lip as she clenched her hands. Her hands still felt off, like the wires and whatever else the doctors had shoved in them were shifting around between the bones whenever Miya tried to do anything. Fuck them. Fuck Overlord, fuck Don, fuck Slim Jim, and fuck that orange doctor guy. Fuck you all for putting me in this position.

    They drove in silence for a while. Miya¡¯s gritted teeth and bloodied nose seemed to ward off any conversation attempts. Motherfuckers. Didn¡¯t care. Just assumed the worst, that I just ran off because I got bored or something, like I¡¯m just some piece of shit. They didn¡¯t even wait to make a little extra pocket money.

    ¡°You¡¯re about to chew a hole through your lip. I¡¯d recommend against that,¡± he said, as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

    Miya rolled her eyes. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s over. Once we¡¯re back, you can go wherever you want. Olivia can give you a giant hug if you ask. And you can focus on whatever bloody revenge you¡¯re fantasizing about.¡±

    ¡°When did you become so good at psychoanalyzing and shit?¡± If I may steer the conversation away from me and my retarded family.

    ¡°You forget I was an MHU cop for a brief moment in time.¡± He craned his neck out to check a turn. ¡°Reasoning like that is a good skill to have.¡±

    She sighed. No use in blowing up at him. I¡¯m tired. It¡¯s only noon. ¡°No regrets about leaving?¡±

    ¡°Kind of. It wasn¡¯t all it cracked up to be. Still poured a lot of time into it. Want lunch?¡±

    Miya blinked. ¡°Um. I don¡¯t know. Sure. Anything open around here?¡±

    Chris shot her a bemused smile. ¡°You lived here.¡±

    Miya managed to snort a laugh. ¡°Right. Yes. Good point.¡± I¡¯d rather not get fat. I¡¯m almost not a teenager, now that I think about it. Metabolism won¡¯t be my friend for much longer, if Ollin was anything to go by. ¡°I can think of a place or two near here.¡±

 20: Iteration

    Chapter 20: Iteration

    <hr>

    ¡°I guess I¡¯m a little confused,¡± said Olivia, staring at the spread of cards on the table. ¡°Is the ace good or bad?¡±

    ¡°Depends on what you¡¯re playin¡¯. Different games of poker got different rules. Right now, best card,¡± replied Ben. With Miya and Chris gone, Rob asleep, and Amanda buried deep in some project of hers, they needed some way to keep themselves entertained. He paused dealing cards as he said the middle sentence, a wide grin growing on his face.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Olivia, wary. I¡¯ve seen that smile before.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry ¡®bout it. You¡¯ll see.¡± He dealt three cards, face up. ¡°So you got your two cards, an¡¯ I got my two cards. Both of us can use those cards on the table.¡±

    ¡°OK.¡± Olivia held up the two face down cards she¡¯d been given to check them again. Those are the same faces!

    ¡°Got a good hand, don¡¯t you?¡± asked Ben, ignoring the snore from Rob across the room.

    Olivia blinked. ¡°How did you know?¡± He can¡¯t see them, can he?

    ¡°You got excited, started swishin¡¯ your tail around when you read your hand and looked at the flop,¡± said Ben, gesturing to the floor behind her where, indeed, her tail dragged back and forth along the ground.

    ¡°Oh,¡± laughed Olivia even as she covered her mouth in embarrassment, making sure to wrap her tail around the leg of her chair.

    With a chuckle, Ben said, ¡°We¡¯ll get to bluffin¡¯ and bettin¡¯ later. Speakin¡¯ of which,we¡¯d bet right here, then the turn.¡± He flipped another card. ¡°Another bet, then the river.¡± He flipped a fifth card. ¡°This is the last bet.

    ¡°Why are they called that? Like, flop and river?¡±

    ¡°I dunno,¡± said Ben with a shrug. ¡°Tradition. Now, you think you got a good hand? This is important. Once we¡¯re bettin¡¯ you gotta think about your own hand an¡¯ the other guy¡¯s. It¡¯s half numbers, half people. With that tail movin¡¯, I think you got a good hand. Now, since we ain¡¯t bettin¡¯ an¡¯ I¡¯m focused on explainin¡¯ shit, I don¡¯t expect you to really know what I got. Somethin¡¯ to keep in mind.¡±

    They kept flipping cards, Ben explaining more and more rules until they bet with little bits of candy. He¡¯s always tapping his fingers, but he gets a little faster when he has good cards. Or does he just think they¡¯re good cards? There¡¯s so much going on. It¡¯s just seven cards! Olivia found herself leaning forward, pressing herself into the back of her reversed chair with every hand.

    Eventually, she heard a familiar car pull into the parking lot of their scrapyard turned hideout. Miya came in with a somewhat swollen, crooked, and reddened nose. What happened?

    ¡°Olivia,¡± said Ben, muscles tense and poised to jump out of his seat. ¡°What¡¯cha hissin¡¯ for?¡±

    She blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re hissin¡¯. Why?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry. Um, someone messed up Miya¡¯s nose. That¡¯s not good, right?¡±

    Ben shrugged, relaxing at the sight of a calm Chris walking in behind her with a milkshake in hand. ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡±

    What? How could that be good? Maybe there¡¯s something I¡¯m missing. Neither of them is in a rush. Miya gave them both a wave as she approached. ¡°We¡¯re back,¡± she called out, her voice lacking its usual force. ¡°And none the wiser.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± asked Olivia, resisting the urge to spring from her chair and wrap Miya in a hug. She¡¯s always so touchy.

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Your nose.¡±

    ¡°Fuck, I thought I fixed and cleaned that. Just a family argument, nothing more,¡± said Miya with a grimace as Chris sat down to take off his boots. She took a seat opposite Olivia, casting a quizzical look at the cards.

    ¡°But who would-¡±

    Miya cut her off. ¡°Olivia, please drop it.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± said Olivia. Stupid. I said something stupid, didn¡¯t I?

    Chris met Olivia¡¯s eyes. He silently mouthed ¡°Later,¡± and sat down beside her. Olivia bit her tongue as Ben opened another bag of candy. Family is supposed to take care of each other, right? ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°Teachin¡¯ ¡®liv¡¯ how to play poker,¡± replied Ben, poking Miya in the cheek with the last word.

    Miya blinked in utter confusion, frozen halfway through batting his hand aside and her expression mirroring Olivia¡¯s own. She turned to him and asked, ¡°What was that for?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just poker,¡± he said, poking her in the forehead.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said with a roll of her eyes, even if she couldn¡¯t stop a laugh from escaping her lips. Chris groaned. I still don¡¯t get it.

    ¡°What¡¯s everyone laughin¡¯ ¡®bout?¡± asked Rob, already up from his cot and pulling a tank-top over his head.

    ¡°Welcome back to the livin¡¯,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Rob sauntered over to the table. ¡°Playin¡¯ cards?¡±

    ¡°Yep, want me to deal you in?¡± replied his brother.

    ¡°No thanks, I got armor to forge. Most of the good salvage here is long gone or corroded, but I found some good buried stuff that don¡¯t look like much to the average tweaker or whoever.¡±

    ¡°Rob, before you run off,¡± called out Chris, holding up a hand. ¡°Amanda, can you come here? Amanda!¡±

    Amanda pulled off her headphones as Chris shouted. He waved her over. The two techies gave each other wary looks as they sat at opposite sides of the table. Oh no, are they going to start provoking each other?

    Chris looked both of them in the eye before saying, ¡°We¡¯ve left that stupid tracker in Olivia for far too long. You two, with Miya, figure out how to get that out of her. We can¡¯t hope that Overlord won¡¯t care about us, if he was willing to blow the long term cover of his guy in Houston over her. I¡¯m shocked we made it a month.¡±

    Olivia shrank in her chair as the others looked at her for a moment while Chris spoke. Sorry, she thought. I shouldn¡¯t have fought that robot on my own like that. If we get it out, I won¡¯t be a burden. Well, more of one.

    ¡°She¡¯s got a fuckin¡¯ what in her now?¡± asked Rob, leaning forward and cocking his head to the side in disbelief.

    ¡°We told you Overlord was trackin¡¯ her,¡± said Ben.

    ¡°I thought metaphorically! I didn¡¯t think he literally knew where she was all the time. Well fuck, let¡¯s get goin¡¯.¡± Olivia perked up at his enthusiasm. The worry at the back of her mind, the knowledge of the risk, lightened at the thought of finally getting rid of the tracker. ¡°Can we hack it out?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°With it right next to her brainstem?¡± asked Amanda with poorly suppressed scorn.

    Rob¡¯s ever present smile wavered, a small sigh escaping from him. ¡°Cool, never mind. Miya, you taken a look at it with magic-y shit?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s encased iron, there¡¯s not much I can do to it. I can tell you where it is by magical absence, that¡¯s about it.¡±

    ¡°Well Miya had Overlord shit in her, right? How¡¯d we deal with that?¡±

    ¡°We fried it,¡± answered Miya.

    ¡°Again, this is right next to Olivia¡¯s brainstem,¡± snapped Amanda.

    ¡°Just gettin¡¯ caught up to speed. Maybe we don¡¯t kill it. Sheathe it?¡± asked Rob. ¡°Make the signal go nowhere?¡±

    ¡°I thought about that,¡± said Amanda, pulling up a basic drawing on her laptop. ¡°Based on the power and wavelength of the signal the sheathe would have to be too thick, it¡¯d be a block sticking out of her skin at the base of her skull. I¡¯m not a doctor but I think us jury-rigging that would go ugly fast.¡± Oh, I don¡¯t think I like that.

    They gave Miya a look. ¡°I¡¯m also not a surgeon. How big is it?¡± Amanda pointed to one of the measures along an edge. ¡°Oh fuck no. Magic doesn''t like metal very much already. I have no idea how I¡¯d keep something that size intact and infection free.¡±

    ¡°OK, let¡¯s call that a last resort,¡± said Amanda, closing down her drawing.

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Hold up, what¡¯s stoppin¡¯ the signal from just goin¡¯ through her neckbone an¡¯ throat. Can¡¯t cover the whole thing with where it is.¡±

    ¡°OK, not a resort at all,¡± grumbled Amanda. ¡°What a waste of time.¡±

    ¡°Well hang on, the right answer ain¡¯t just gonna appear to us on a silver fuckin¡¯ platter,¡± pointed out Rob. ¡°Gotta think everyin¡¯ through.¡±

    ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that?¡± Olivia sighed. We were doing so well. With pursed lips, Amanda swallowed whatever else it was she was about to snap at Rob at the sound.

    Rob, however, didn¡¯t get the message. ¡°Don¡¯t gotta get all bitchy about it.¡±

    ¡°Rob,¡± said Chris, raising an eyebrow.

    The two locked eyes for a moment, as Olivia kept an eye on a sour faced Amanda. ¡°Sorry,¡± managed Rob. Ben opened his mouth to say something, until Olivia¡¯s gaze snapped to him. Don¡¯t you dare. ¡°Can I see what you used on Miya? Could we improve that?¡±

    ¡°Sure, I have the plans for it. I left the actual thing back in Westward,¡± replied Amanda as she turned her attention to her laptop. The two techies examined the glorified probe for a moment.

    ¡°Why is it so bulky?¡± asked Rob.

    ¡°Because that¡¯s the best I could do. I have to make sure the current doesn''t run through something important in the nervous system. It¡¯s even worse for Olivia.¡±

    ¡°Cuz brainstem, yeah. We can thin that way the fuck up if you¡¯re worried about strength. What¡¯s it made of?¡±

    Olivia felt her eyes glaze over as the techies pored over the plans, all previous hostility between the two forgotten for the moment as they tore into the problem. Chris, Miya, and Ben seemed to feel the same level of boredom, if the phones coming out were any indication. Minutes stretched on as Olivia paced, stretching her legs and wings. She even pulled out her own old brick of a flip phone, taking care to press the buttons with the rounded backs of her claws, rather than scratching any more of its surface.

    ¡°Well,¡± muttered Rob as he gestured to the drawing. ¡°If we replace that, we¡¯ve got a good place for the zap to go that ain¡¯t brain, if we get it close enough.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a start,¡± conceded Amanda. ¡°We¡¯ll need to test to make sure we didn¡¯t make a fancy useless circuit instead.¡±

    ¡°Ben!¡± shouted Rob, breaking the stupor over the rest of them. ¡°Get me two tanks of propane and an¡¯ what is that?¡± Rob leaned in to examine Amanda¡¯s device for a moment. ¡°An¡¯ some copper wire.¡±

    ¡°Make that wire ten gauge solid, not stranded,¡± added Amanda. ¡°We can thin it out later.¡± See? You guys can work together.

    ***

    At some point Olivia lost track of where Rob and Amanda went with their speculations and ideas. With a solid grasp of the problem, their stream of questions to her petered off, even as both began twisting and shaping metal into prototypes. Even Miya broke off with nothing else to contribute and the techies too lost in quick jargon and checking over each others¡¯ shoulders to notice or care. The rest of the group drifted off to sleep, leaving the two to their work.

    Ben, at least, woke up early to grab everyone breakfast. The scent of sugar and cinnamon roused Olivia soon after he walked in. She found both Rob and Amanda working in separate corners through the night, no longer speaking. Great. Did Rob say something? Or was it Amanda? The sound of movement slowly roused the others.

    ¡°Good morning, Chris,¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Good morning,¡± he replied. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and took in the spread. ¡°What¡¯s for breakfast?¡±

    ¡°A cinnamon donut!¡±

    With a solemn nod, Chris replied, ¡°Classic.¡±

    ¡°But look,¡± she exclaimed, holding out the half eaten donut with both hands for him to behold. ¡°They put on the cinnamon dust, and then they put glaze on over it so all the cinnamon stays!¡±

    ¡°The breakfast of champions.¡±

    Olivia¡¯s beaming smile was only broken for a moment by her shoving the entire rest of the donut in her mouth. Chris grabbed his own maple and bacon donut and eyed the techies.

    ¡°Have you talked to them this morning? Are they still playing nice?¡±

    Olivia shook her head. Oh thank god, it¡¯s not just me who noticed. Though I guess it¡¯s pretty obvious. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡±

    Chris cast a look at a newly awakened Miya, glaring at Ben with murder in her eyes as he tried to poke her in the face again. ¡°Maybe you and I can check on them.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Olivia.

    ¡°Just see how they¡¯re doing, if there¡¯s anything anyone can do to help. You know, if there''s any problems with their project.¡±

    ¡°Oh, help, I can do that.¡± Olivia stood and headed towards Rob, the nearest. Better than just sitting there, bored. And I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve talked to him much before. He showed up and we got kidnapped by an alien thing like the next day. And then I got stuck in a lab.

    Chris nodded. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll check on Amanda.¡±

    With her mission clear in her mind Olivia headed over to Rob¡¯s desk, where he hunched over a shiny bit of metal stretched long and thin. The smell of steel and grease filled the air as she drew closer. He placed a small steel block over the piece, then tapped the block several times with a small hammer. Despite the chaos of his workspace, she noticed a small blade, barely the size of her finger, set aside and untouched by the clutter. The grey thing stood on a small stand, keeping its edge from coming into contact with anything.

    ¡°Hello,¡± said Olivia once he finished.

    ¡°Yo,¡± he said, voice distant. Metal rattled against the desktop as he tossed the block to the side.

    She grabbed the second chair by his desk to keep from looming over him. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡±

    ¡°First prototype had some issues. Ironed those out. Heh, ironed. On version three now. We gotta make this thing way more specific for your bit, her old zapper thing was just some cobbled together thing she did on the fly.¡±

    ¡°Is everything OK?¡± asked Olivia, looking pointedly between him and a distant Amanda. You two were so chatty earlier.

    He grinned. ¡°She¡¯s smart as fuck but I don¡¯t think she likes me too much.¡±

    Olivia raised an eyebrow. People take other people seriously when they do this, right? I¡¯ve seen that before. ¡°Is that all?¡±

    ¡°I might have tried a joke about makin¡¯ Ben pick up some powdered water at the store, but she just looked at me like I was an idiot.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± confessed Olivia. How does that even work?

    ¡°God damn it, not you too,¡± he grumbled, hammer dangling from his hand as he leaned his elbow on the desk.. ¡°I''m gonna get her to laugh, god damn it.¡±

    ¡°Is that all?¡± Olivia pressed further. Is this rude? One bad joke doesn¡¯t mean you stop talking to each other.

    ¡°I tried a couple other jokes an¡¯ puns but she just got mad. Then I made a couple more, and she got madder.¡± Olivia raised an eyebrow as he seemed to finish. ¡°An¡¯ then I made a couple more an¡¯ she got real mad cuz I wasn¡¯t gettin¡¯ anythin¡¯ done. An¡¯ then I made a couple more.¡±

    ¡°OK,¡± said Olivia, the picture becoming clear to her. Why can¡¯t we all just be friends?

    ¡°It was three in the morning, we were workin¡¯ through the night on this.¡±

    ¡°And thank you so much. I think it might be good if you and Amanda got along though, you know?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m tryin¡¯. I kinda lost my temper a bit but I¡¯m tryin¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Thank you again,¡± said Olivia, rising from her chair as Rob returned to his work.

    Olivia and Chris reunited for a minute. He checked with her before gathering the group for an update.

    The first thing Amanda did was call out, ¡°Are you done?¡±

    Rob hurried over with several part. ¡°Yeah, got the prongs an¡¯ wires ready.¡±

    ¡°Finally,¡± grumbled Amanda as she plugged a cable into a wall outlet. ¡°OK. I made a little mockup chip for us to test. We need to test that, then if that works then we actually put the rest of the damn thing together. We¡¯ll disinfect everything. We¡¯ll also test the scalpel, if Olivia¡¯s alright with a little cut on the elbow.¡± Olivia nodded. I trust you. ¡°Then we¡¯ll zap.¡±

    ¡°Walk me through it,¡± said Chris. ¡°What¡¯s been done?¡±

    Amanda and Rob exchanged glances. Rob bowed his head to her. She took her que and said, ¡°Once we make sure this works, the plan is to make a shallow cut with a pure iron scalpel Rob made, insert the device, and deploy these tiny little prongs. We¡¯ve got it measured out so they¡¯ll stop right before they hit bone. We¡¯ll have to run a lot of power through it, but only for an instant. If my calculations are correct, the second prong will take that current, rather than it arcing through anything important in Olivia.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± added Rob. ¡°The old one wouldn¡¯t have been able to be this precise, too bulky. An¡¯ too weak, with all of the magic and muscle Olivia¡¯s got there was no way of gettin¡¯ close enough. The scalpel was fuckin¡¯ weird too, had to reinforce it so the iron didn¡¯t shatter, but keep the blade, you know, actually still iron instead of steel to get through the magic stuff.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯ll be able to make that cut go away, right?¡± Olivia asked Miya.

    ¡°Yep. I¡¯ll barely have to do anything, with a cut that small,¡± said Miya, holding out her fingers to estimate the length. ¡°You¡¯ll probably have some scarring on the back of your neck, though.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± asked Amanda. ¡°I thought she healed quickly.¡±

    ¡°Quicker, not better,¡± replied Miya. ¡°Quick healers go through the natural process. Look at Roach. He heals pretty much everything instantly, but you can still see all those scars. If Olivia broke a bone, say her arm, and it was set wrong, her arm would heal crooked faster. Better healers aren¡¯t faster, but they would have a straight arm bone at the end of the process.¡±

    Olivia¡¯s eyebrows furrowed in concern. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound good.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about it,¡± said Miya. ¡°You¡¯re nowhere near as fast as Roach.¡±

    ¡°How are we going to tell if the zap was successful?¡± asked Chris.

    ¡°I¡¯m monitoring the frequency,¡± said Amanda, gesturing to a circular antenna set up on her desk, attached to a box with a small screen. She spun it to point at Olivia. ¡°See that little spike on the waveform? That¡¯s Overlord¡¯s signal. That cuts out, we¡¯re good to go. We¡¯ll probably be done by the end of the day.¡± Chris nodded in satisfaction, though Miya and Ben suppressed groans of boredom.

    ¡°Great job, you two,¡± said Chris. ¡°Let us know if you need a hand and we can get this over the finish line.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, if we can keep the stupidity to a minimum,¡± said Amanda, shooting a pointed look at Rob.

    ¡°Hey, I thought ¡®face for radio¡¯ was pretty good. You work with radios all the time. Sorry, I pushed it too far. Poor taste.¡±

    Olivia shot a concerned look to Chris, who, if his long drawn breath and distant look at the ceiling were any indication, resigned himself to the coming argument. ¡°There¡¯s only so much I can do,¡± she heard him whisper, almost too low for even her to hear.

    Amanda, for her part, did not choose peace. With widened eyes and tight clenched jaw, she leaned forward and hissed, ¡°And did you think that would go well? Did you think at all?¡±

    ¡°Well yeah,¡± said Rob with a shrug. ¡°When every time I talk you fuckin¡¯ glare at me I start to pick up on it. I got basic pattern recognition.¡±

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t listen to it? Like the little voice in your head that used to be a conscience?¡±

    ¡°Oh come on,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Why are you even denying it? You used Olivia as your attack dog, you vicious sociopath. And at no point have you expressed an ounce of regret. Not an ounce of recognition.¡± Hey, I¡¯m not a dog.

    ¡°What?¡± asked Rob, baffled. ¡°I just showed up an¡¯ got kidnapped by an alien.¡±

    ¡°You just wanted to run around doing vigilante bullshit, no matter who got in your way or who got hurt,¡± bulldozed Amanda.

    Rob threw his hands up and shouted, ¡°I ain¡¯t Ben!¡±

    Amanda flinched, the stream of her tirade broken. Her half open mouth snapped shut and the tension in her shoulders gave out. Olivia found her breath caught in her throat, watching her friends¡¯ argument derail. Are they done?

    ¡°Where are Ben and Miya?¡± asked Chris, twisting in his chair to view the rest of their hideout. Olivia and the techies followed, finding the room empty, save them.

 21: A Car Battery

    Chapter 21: A Car Battery

    <hr>

    Time stretched on in the hideout. The early summer heat beat down on the desert, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and the air filled with techie bickering. In truth, Miya tuned out when Amanda and Rob announced at least a day lay between them and completion. Miya stood to stretch her legs as Chris tried to play peacemaker, wandering over to the other end of the open main room of the hideout for a drink of water. Not a moment later, Ben joined her, yawning wide as he stood next to her.

    ¡°So, this Don guy, yeah?¡± said Ben. ¡°I dunno ¡®bout you, but I¡¯m bored as fuck. Cars are workin¡¯. Guns are clean. Got a plan on how to deal with him?¡±

    Miya bit her lip. Now that I think about it. ¡°Not particularly.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got a shop, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the setup look like in there?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°Some small, dingy little adobe building. He¡¯s got a single bathroom, an office with like a desk and nothing else, and the main floor. Not much else,¡± answered Miya.

    ¡°He live nearby?¡± He fixed her with an intense stare, even as his ever-present smile flickered on his lips.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know where he lives, but he always drives a car to his shop. I don¡¯t know what kind of hobbies he has or anything either.¡±

    ¡°Could bust his car windows. He comes out, we nab him there,¡± suggested Ben.

    ¡°Yeah, but he¡¯ll be coming out expecting a fight.¡±

    ¡°So?¡± asked Ben.

    ¡°He¡¯ll come out ready to thrash someone. And we¡¯ll be in thrashing distance. Would you want to fight an angry mage or surprise one?¡±

    ¡°Well, he¡¯d recognize you. I¡¯ve ain¡¯t been in a magic shop before. Would I stick out if I waltzed in?¡±

    Miya rolled her eyes and explained, ¡°He¡¯s got all kinds of kitschy tourist shit. He¡¯s tan so he pretends to be a native mage, though I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s Italian. Half of the things he sells aren¡¯t even magic, not that any non-mage would know.¡±

    ¡°This was your teacher?¡± asked Ben.

    Miya shrugged and said, ¡°It was an informal thing.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Ben¡¯s eyes flickered over towards Olivia. ¡°Want some fresh air?¡±

    She bit her lower lip. Why her? Wait, she can hear us from over there if she wants to. We aren¡¯t really including the others already. As long as we don¡¯t do anything stupid. ¡°Sure.¡±

    With the others still consumed by arguments, Miya and Ben slipped out the front door. They leaned side by side against the north facing wall in the shade. A quarter mile away and up a barren dirt hill, the roar of the morning rush hour traffic dwindled as the morning shifted to noon. She couldn¡¯t see a cloud.

    ¡°So how do we do this?¡± asked Miya.

    After a moment¡¯s consideration, Ben replied, ¡°I go in, lookin¡¯ like a tourist.¡±

    Miya shot upright as a thought occurred. ¡°Do you burn easily?¡± she asked, interrupting him.

    ¡°Not particularly. Why?¡± replied Ben.

    ¡°OK. Well, at least stand in the sun and sweat for a bit. We can grab a water bottle from a gas station to sell it. Do you think a fanny pack is overkill?¡±

    He snorted. ¡°I gotta draw the line somewhere. I do have some dignity.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    ¡°OK, I go in lookin¡¯ like a red-faced tourist. Look around for a bit. Is Don chatty?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± said Miya with a shake of her head. ¡°He¡¯s going to be sitting behind the register. He¡¯ll get up to make a sale though.¡±

    ¡°Charmer, huh? How does he do business like that?¡±

    ¡°Not great.¡±

    ¡°I look around, maybe don¡¯t small talk him too much. Draw him out from his counter with some questions about some thingy. Knock him out when I get the chance. We need to haul him out or just lock the front door?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got the keys on his belt; I¡¯ve seen which one. The shop isn¡¯t super open or easy to see into.¡±

    ¡°You come in, we do what we need to, an¡¯ get out. Easy day.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± said Miya with a slow nod. ¡°I¡¯m liking this.¡±

    Ben cast a glance at the door behind them. ¡°Wanna leave the others outta this?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m assumin¡¯ you¡¯re gonna make the fucker pay and I ain¡¯t talkin¡¯ money. But we got two cops with us, Rob¡¯s got the techie bug, an¡¯ Olivia don¡¯t got the stomach ¡®til her blood gets runnin¡¯. We may as well get stuff done while the techies do their techie shit.¡±

    Miya took a moment to parse his rapid speech and consider. He¡¯s got a good point. ¡°When?¡±

    ¡°Now?¡± he said, dangling the keys of their stolen secondary car.

    A thought in the back of her mind stopped Miya from agreeing outright. ¡°What if they need me for something for their science project?¡±

    Ben grinned wide and cocked an eyebrow. ¡°You really think the bitchy whiz kids are gonna hash anything out in the next couple days?¡±

    Miya let out a short laugh. Bitchy? One of them is literally your identical brother. ¡°Let¡¯s do it.¡±

    ***

    Miya and Ben spent barely an hour staking out Don¡¯s shop. Everything about the freestanding adobe building was as she remembered, save the green skull graffiti tag covering one of the sides. The area didn¡¯t quite qualify as a shantytown, but close enough to make little difference.

    He turns off the normal alarm when he¡¯s in the shop, Miya thought to herself from the passenger seat of their parked car, half a block and now out of sight of their target. Magic is a bit trickier. Using hostile magic on inanimate objects in there might horribly backfire with all the other magic stuff in inanimate objects he¡¯s trying to sell. We¡¯ll see. If I tamper with it before we go in, Don will know. And if anything goes wrong, just kill him and run, fuck everything else.

    They spotted Don¡¯s beat up old car parked out back on their first circle around the area, but no others. He occasionally took special orders from clients for various items, though she only ever saw them arrive at opening. Without the Open sign in the front door, a casual passerby might have thought the store closed.

    She gave a reddened and impatient Ben a nod from the shade of their air-conditioned car. He returned her nod and sauntered off around the corner of a building, doing his best to keep his clothes riding up and revealing Amanda¡¯s shock baton hidden at the small of his back. Little else remained for her to do but wait for his signal. So much waiting, this sucks, she thought to herself as she stared at her cell in anticipation.

    The buzz, when it finally came two minutes later, sent her jumping out of her seat. It¡¯s finally happening. She put the car in drive and pulled into the dirt lot behind Don¡¯s shot. Even with the shot of adrenaline, she struggled to haul the duffel bag they¡¯d prepared out from the trunk. Her arms burned by the time she walked, as non-chalantly as possible for any onlookers, the short distance from the car to the shop with the majority of the weight onto her hip.

    Ben spread his arms wide as she stumbled into the familiar, dingy shop with a cocky grin and baton dangling from one hand. ¡°Welcome! Got your custom piece ready to go,¡± he said over the ringing of the bell above the door.

    Except for a pair of shelves knocked off the walls, their contents strewn across the floor in whatever scuffle happened between Don and Ben, the dim magic shop brought back a flood of memories for Miya. There are the books. I might as well pick up a couple of those once we¡¯re done here. Maybe I can help Olivia with one. There¡¯s the meditation section. Even the dust doesn¡¯t get disturbed by the AC. And he¡¯s still got that gaudy brass star thing that he claims wards of spirits but really does absolutely nothing! I told him it¡¯s hideous and would never sell. The sight of several crossed-out prices beneath it brought a smile to her face for a brief moment.

    Maneuvering her way past three foot high Native bird statue who¡¯s eyes , Miya finally found her target. The smile vanished from her face. She stared down at Don sprawled out on the floor as the bag slammed into the floor, fists clenched. Motherfucker. I¡¯ve still got wires in me because of you.

    ¡°You OK? Look kinda sick,¡± said Ben with a sidelong glance in her direction, breaking her train of thought.

    Miya grimaced. Bad memories. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Alright. He got any magic-y shit on him? I dunno what I¡¯d be lookin¡¯ for.¡±

    They turned Don over, face up, revealing a middle aged man with dark splotchy skin and a beer gut an inch or two more prominent through his button down shirt than the last time Miya saw him months ago.

    ¡°Hand me your iron knife?¡± she asked Ben, twisting to hold her hand out to him. He placed the handle of the small knife in her palm. ¡°Just in case.¡±

    She reached for her magic. The mundanity of the world stripped away, revealing the motivating force in all things. Streams of magic, of possibility, wove their way through everything from the complex lattice in the wooden shelves, to the knitted scales in ceramic tile floors. All the curios of the shop, though, set her on edge. Dead magic in stasis, unable to change, unable to flow, their creator lying unconscious at her feet. She could summon a stream, poke the prophetic brass and electrum clock to her right, and not even Don could say what would happen.

    It all cut out around the iron knife in her hand. The glow, the possibilities, the streams all dulled to nothing round the knife. Imperfections kept the thing from total magic invisibility. Even Rob couldn¡¯t go down and remove every molecule, and if he did the blade would be too brittle to use. Even so, she¡¯d never seen a greater drain of magical energy than the unassuming little bit of metal in her hand.

    Don showed no signs of magical tampering in himself, or his clothes. He never told her his own specialty, but magic alterations of a living being backfired despite the best of intentions. His faded tan slacks hid nothing but his own skinny pale legs, his sweat stained button-down shirt only an uncomfortable volume of chest hair.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    She exhaled. ¡°I think we¡¯re good. He¡¯s a shopkeeper, not a soldier.¡±

    ¡°Cool,¡± said Ben.

    She grabbed one of Don¡¯s legs and helped Ben drag him to the back of the shop, past dirty shelves full of old Western themed knick-knacks.

    ¡°You can grab that bag. Fuck it¡¯s heavy,¡± said Miya. Ben laughed as he teleported over, knelt, and opened the zipper. He slipped on his silver comedy mask and tossed a roll of duct tape to her.

    With Don duct taped to a chair, she headed back to the entrance as Ben put the car battery, the source of her sore shoulder, off to the side. A couple people walked past outside, but no one bothered to check out the shop. Her phone buzzed as she flipped the Open sign to the Closed side, then pulled down the blinds of the front door. She checked the number. This won¡¯t take long, Chris can wait, she thought as she slipped the phone back into her pocket.

    She returned to Don and rifled through his pockets, emptying them. Not much in this wallet. Keys, I¡¯ll hold onto those. Nothing else. Her phone buzzed again. Damn it, what? Chris sent her a text. ¡°Where are you two?¡±

    ¡°Somethin¡¯ wrong?¡± asked Ben, eyeing the phone in her hands.

    ¡°Nomad is asking where we are.¡±

    Ben shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re technically grownups.¡±

    Chris isn¡¯t my fucking dad. Miya slipped the phone back into her pocket as she said, ¡°True. This shouldn¡¯t take too long.¡±

    A low, slow groan floated from Don¡¯s throat. Perfect timing.

    ¡°Hey there, Mr. Kidnapper!¡± exclaimed Ben, walking over and squatting down to eyelevel with the man. Don groaned again in response, though this time with more energy. ¡°You awake? Feelin¡¯ alright?¡±

    ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± demanded Don.

    Miya stood directly behind Don, arms crossed. She noticed, around his bound hands, magic streams beginning to weave. She drew the iron knife. A non-mage could get far with such a weapon against a mage. A mage with such a weapon could be far more surgical. She scraped the edge of the knife against his wrist like a shave. The magic would simply reroute around an iron rod or cudgel, but an edge was made for cutting. Don¡¯s stream writhed and dissipated, sending his hand into spasms.

    Ben¡¯s head twitched towards Miya. She circled her hand in a ¡°continue¡± motion.

    He gave a slight nod as Don tried to rise from the chair. ¡°The hell?¡± he snapped at Ben. He tried to twist his head backwards at Miya. ¡°What was that?¡±

    Ben grabbed Don¡¯s dark grey hair and yanked it back towards him. ¡°Name¡¯s Skulker,¡± he replied, releasing him.

    Don took another moment to struggle against the duct tape before saying, ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of you. Let me go, kid, this won¡¯t end well.¡±

    ¡°Nah. You an¡¯ me, we¡¯re gonna have a chat.¡± Ben pulled up the office chair that had sat behind the cash register. On it he placed the strongest car battery the auto parts store on the way had. ¡°Behold.¡±

    ¡°What? You think hollow threats are going to make me talk? I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about, but I promise I¡¯ve got friends. You¡¯ll regret whatever it is you¡¯re about to do.¡± Playing dumb. Wait, no. He has no idea Ben is with me. He just knows someone is behind him. He has no idea what this is for.

    ¡°An¡¯ what is it you think I¡¯m about to do? Notice anythin¡¯? No wires. No cables,¡± said Ben in a hushed voice. ¡°An¡¯ you might be thinkin¡¯ I¡¯m just gonna splash acid in your face. Wrong!¡±

    With a grunt, Ben wrapped both hands around the battery. He swung it over his head and sent it crashing down on Don¡¯s knee. Don let out a scream as his leg spasmed and something snapped. Fuck, we forgot to buy the cables. We may as well have done this with a rock. Ben let the battery drop a few inches back onto the chair and produced the shock baton. Oh yeah, I guess we can use the baton. Don recovered his composure after a couple minutes, though his hands trembled.

    ¡°Why?¡± gasped Don. ¡°What have I done to you.¡±

    ¡°Not him,¡± said Miya, walking into his field of view and savoring every word. ¡°Me.¡±

    Don took a couple seconds to react to the sound of her voice. He mouthed, ¡°What?¡± silently.

    Miya nodded to Ben. ¡°Thanks. You want to check his office?¡±

    ¡°No problem. I¡¯ll be around if you need me,¡± said Ben, handing her the baton and wheeling the chair and car battery out of her way.

    ¡°Hi, Don,¡± said Miya, once Ben left.

    ¡°Miya? Where have you been?¡± said Don as Miya sat down across from him.

    She tapped the butt of the baton against his broken knee. He sucked in air. ¡°Oh, out and about. You know. You seem sweaty all of a sudden.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m tied up,¡± he managed. ¡°What do you expect? Come on, let me out. Why are you with that guy?¡±

    ¡°Why do you think? Come on, you¡¯ve got a brain, right?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking know-¡±

    She cut him off. ¡°Answer the question.¡± Enough fucking games. I want to hear you say what you did, even if I have to drag it out of you volt by volt.

    Don stared at her for a moment. ¡°I. Don¡¯t. Know.¡±

    She jabbed a thumb into his broken knee. He grimaced, but didn¡¯t break eye contact with Miya. ¡°I. Don¡¯t. Believe you,¡± she said in a near whisper.

    His brown eyes hardened. He leaned back as much as he could in his chair and kept his mouth shut. Great! Miya tapped his knee again, this time with the business end of the baton. He convulsed. A burning scent filled the air as the baton incinerated his pants around his knee.

    ¡°Answer me,¡± she said, her voice flat and calm. ¡°Why did you sell me out?¡±

    ¡°Fuck you.¡±

    Another knee tap.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he yelled. He spat in her face. She wiped it off.

    ¡°Answer me.¡±

    Another knee tap.

    He screamed.

    ¡°Answer me.¡±

    Another knee tap.

    ¡°I did it!¡± he screamed. There it is.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Don glared. ¡°They offered me more than you ever could.¡±

    Miya caught the baton just before it could slip out of her fingers. ¡°Money? That¡¯s it? I spent months strapped to a fucking operating table for money? You betrayed me for that?¡±

    ¡°What was there to betray?¡± Don finally snapped, now straining against the tape as he tried to shove his reddened face into hers. ¡°You think I want to be sitting here in this dead end bullshit job, hoping some street trash shoplifted enough that week to help me pay my bills? I¡¯m a mage! I could be so much more if I wasn¡¯t held back by bullshit. Bullshit bills and bullshit taxes and bullshit people. Bullshit people everywhere. Flakes who don¡¯t pay up for the bullshit I make them and punks like you who can¡¯t afford shit. You think we were friends? I took your pocket change because I didn¡¯t have a choice.¡±

    He gave up on trying to tear through the tape restraining him. Silence reigned for a moment, broken only by his panting.

    ¡°That¡¯s it, huh?¡± asked Miya, loosening the white-knuckle grip on the baton she¡¯d developed over the course of his rant.

    ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± replied Don.

    She took a deep breath. ¡°Now, what to do with you?¡± she asked herself aloud.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t me. Whatever they did, that wasn¡¯t me,¡± he said, realizing the hole his words dug him in. Miya saw red for a moment.

    She shoved a finger in his face. ¡°I spent months strapped to a hospital bed so they could cut me up because of you. You really think I¡¯m just going to take that lying down?¡±

    ¡°Whatever it is you think you¡¯re going to do, you¡¯ll pay for it,¡± he said, his voice ragged and desperate. Bark bark, little doggy.

    ¡°I know. But I¡¯ve got something planned for you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you fucking dare,¡± spat Don. ¡°They¡¯ll be here any minute.¡± That¡¯s cute.

    ¡°That¡¯s nice. This won¡¯t take long at all.¡± She gathered magic around her hands. ¡°I was going to have your own skull lobotomize you, but I¡¯ve thought of something else. Fun fact. You know where blood comes from? Marrow. Bone marrow. It¡¯s that stuff I¡¯m permanently burning out right now in your bones. And my friend has a lot of knives.¡± She motioned to Ben, who¡¯d taken a position behind Don.

    Realization dawned on Don¡¯s face. She folded her hands and leaned back, never touching him. ¡°No, no, no. You bitch,¡± screamed Don, thrashing against his restraints.

    Ben cut his screaming short by swinging the car battery against his head. It collided with Don¡¯s skull, something snapped, and he stopped moving. She spat on his bloodied face.

    ¡°That¡¯s done,¡± said Miya. Finally.

    ¡°Bueno,¡± said Ben, tossing the bloody car battery on the ground with a heavy thud.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t just shoot him?¡± she asked.

    ¡°We bought the damn battery, I¡¯m gonna use the damn battery. Got somethin¡¯ in the back you might like.¡±

    Miya nodded as she pulled aside the ratty old curtain leading to the back room of Don¡¯s shop. A single fluorescent light panel lit up the back. A couple flies flew off from the light before buzzing around it. Her nose wrinkled. Coffee stains marred the old, faded counters. The trashcan in the corner overflowed with papers and crumpled food wrappers.

    Ben lead her to a cabinet to the right of the room. An open safe took up the whole bottom shelf. Miya knelt to take a look. Hello there. She reached in and withdrew two small bars of metal, no longer than her finger. Yellow metal, far denser than she expected, with a symbol stamped on its surface.

    ¡°Is this gold?¡± she asked Ben, a growing smile on her face.

    ¡°Think so,¡± replied Ben. ¡°Figured I¡¯d have the mage check to make sure the other mage didn¡¯t booby trap it or some shit.¡±

    ¡°Ours now!¡±

    ¡°Hell yeah.¡± He leaned in and examined the symbol stamped on one of the bars. Miya did the same wit the other. A key, its flanked etched with circuitry, lay on the bullion. ¡°This is Overlord¡¯s logo, ain¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°That it is,¡± said Miya with a shrug. Whatever, metal is metal. Fuck yeah. How much is this going to be worth?

    ¡°Gonna get the gas cans outta the car. Lend a hand?¡± His tone sounded more thoughtful than joyous. They pocketed their gold and splashed gasoline over the interior of the shop. Crime scenes are much harder to analyze when they¡¯re a pile of ash and rubble.

    ¡°Somethin¡¯s botherin¡¯ me,¡± said Ben as he heaved gas over a central shelving stand. ¡°You can¡¯t just fuckin¡¯ spend gold like cash.¡±

    ¡°You can pawn it. It¡¯s gold! You can turn it into money somehow. That¡¯s what its for,¡± replied Miya.

    ¡°It¡¯s stamped with the world¡¯s most wanted man¡¯s logo. Who¡¯d touch it?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s always someone greedy enough.¡±

    ¡°Or he expects it to be spendable later.¡±

    They finished outside. Miya tossed the last two cans through the opened door as Ben produced a lighter.

    ¡°Wanna do the honors?¡±

    ¡°Fuck yeah.¡± She lit the lighter, then tossed it into the door as they both backed up. The gas caught fire instantly.

    She watched the dark smoke rise. The magic of something didn¡¯t agree with the flames; something started an inhuman shriek from within before cutting off.

    ¡°Outta here. This ain¡¯t subtle,¡± said Ben, looking around. She nodded mutely. ¡°You know he woulda told you anythin¡¯ to make the pain stop, yeah?¡± said Ben.

    ¡°I am aware,¡± replied Miya. ¡°But the way he snapped, that felt personal, you kn-¡± The asphault trembled and rose like a wave, cutting off both her talking and them from the car. Shit, what?

    Ben grabbed Miya¡¯s shoulder right before she collided with the now distended wall of parking lot. ¡°Down,¡± he yelled, pulling her to the ground behind a dumpster. Something exploded very close by right as she hit the dirt. It took her a moment to refocus her eyes and for the ringing in her ears to recede into the background. She gritted her teeth to distract herself from the pain.

    Ben hauled her to her feet as people on the other side of the dumpster began shooting. Where the fuck did these guys come from? ¡°Come on, come on,¡± he urged her, pulling out his own pistol and returning fire. The incoming bullets hammered against the metal of the dumpster, beneath the far louder cracks of Ben firing. The heat from the shop they just set on fire began to rise.

    Right. She pulled out her own pistol and turned around, squeezing off a couple shots. Then another man jumped out from behind a corner and tossed a glowing rock. Tendrils of magical power shot out from it once it hit the ground, anchoring it to dozens of points around itself.

    ¡°Magic bomb,¡± she screamed at Ben, grabbing him and pulling him down as a tendril he couldn¡¯t see shot through the air overhead.

    The glowing rock imploded. Masonry, gravel, the dumpster, everything gripped by the rock warped. Some brick twisted in a spiral as they pulled inward. Asphalt turned to dust, and the dumpster was shoved a good three feet back, knocking down Ben and Miya.

    ¡°What the fuck is the Baron doing here?¡± demanded Miya as they climbed back to their feet.

    ¡°Can¡¯t stay here. That way,¡± Ben yelled back, pointing away from the gunmen, between the wall of the shop and the brand new magically created wall of asphalt. The flames of their arson, freed by the bomb, began to lick ever closer.

    Heads down, they hustled away from both the gunmen and their getaway car. Ben turned to make sure no one followed them through the dust left behind by the bomb. As she sprinted, Miya noticed about four cars blocking the street ahead. More gunmen lay in wait behind them. Goddamn it.

    ¡°Stop!¡± she screamed over her shoulder, throwing out her arm to catch a distracted Ben.

    The hail of bullets shattered all of the windows. Ben whirled around and ducked as Miya dropped to the ground once again, taking cover as best she could behind a wall.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± roared Ben, holding his hand close to his chest.

    He crawled over to her. She pulled noticed blood spurting from his hand. Shit.

    ¡°Put pressure on that,¡± she yelled, holding her pistol above the wall and blindly firing a couple times.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he replied.

    She stiff armed him against the wall, and shot at two men trying to approach. That just bought us maybe ten seconds.

    She grabbed Ben¡¯s arm. More platelets for you. I¡¯ve got a basic healing method, maybe that¡¯ll slow the bleeding. ¡°Pressure,¡± she repeated to Ben.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he replied. Fuck, what do we do? Fuck.

    They heard a roar and a scream. Bullets stopped shooting towards them. Wait. That was familiar. Miya poked her head around the corner. Olivia had torn up one car, trying to get at the two men behind it. Another of the gunmen lay bleeding in the street, crawling away. Where the fuck did you come from? Also, yay, we¡¯re not going to die now!

    To Miya¡¯s right, liquid Nomad slammed another gunman into another car, scattering the remaining gunmen. An armored Delta behind him tossed something, and two went down convulsing. Nomad moved to backup Olivia against the other dozen gunmen as Delta rushed directly towards Miya.

    ¡°The hell is going on here?¡± said Delta as she reached them. What do you think?

    ¡°Ben¡¯s hurt,¡± Miya shouted back over the gunfire. A ball of fire sailed across the street, prompting another roar from Olivia.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he added helpfully. He had a wad of his shirt pressed tight against his hand, which he curled his whole body around.

    ¡°Shit,¡± said Delta, producing a strip of bandages from one of many pockets she had worked into her armor. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get out of here. Cops are en route.¡±

    ¡°Come on, this way,¡± Nomad called out to Miya, waving her over.

    She ran to catch up with him. Behind him, Delta lead Ben around the other, now bullet ridden building. Olivia circled overhead as Miya and Nomad joined Ben and Delta at Rob¡¯s truck.

    ¡°How¡¯s Ben?¡± she asked Delta as Rob started the truck.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive. Take a look,¡± he said, holding out his hand.

    He had two ragged bloody stumps where his middle and ring fingers should have been. Fuck me. She checked over her shoulder at the gunmen charging towards them. We can¡¯t go back and get them. Fuck.