by wildbow
I wasn’t sure about Ballistic, his costume was among the best money could buy, but I wasn’t sure what that entailed. Grue, at least, should be able to endure a beating. Beneath his motorcycle leathers, he was wearing the costume I’d made for him and nearly finished. It wouldn’t protect his head, but his helmet would serve in a pinch.
Even if they wouldn’t be cut to shreds, I wasn’t sure they would survive if Shatterbird detonated that case of rocket launcher rounds with a shard in the right place or a large enough impact.
“Bitch,” I spoke. “The boxes!”
Bitch was sliding off of Bentley’s back, opening the first metal box and stretching out the contents.
The case was a piece of camping gear I’d noticed ages ago, when I’d first been buying things for my costume. A watertight case for luggage with a metal frame inside that campers could stretch out to use as a drying rack for clothes and towels.
We didn’t have luggage inside. No, the box held parts of the mannequins I’d been using for costume design. Strung together with silk, two mannequins dangled from the frame.
Bitch adjusted the way one mannequin hung and headed over to set up the other case.
My bugs had reached Shatterbird and started attacking her. Brown recluses, capsaicin, wasps, hornets and bees. I’d never attacked someone like this. Not someone who couldn’t heal. I could see her thrashing, trying to stay aloft even as her concentration faltered. The brown recluses were insurance of a sort. If we happened to take out Bonesaw, it could mean Shatterbird was out of the equation as well.
The darkness Grue had generated around the rooftop disappeared all at once. Grue and Ballistic crouched at the far corner. Canceling the darkness was a signal.
The mannequins hanging from the first rack disappeared, replaced by the two boys. Grue and Ballistic disentangled themselves from the metal frames and hurried to our side.
Trickster and Regent appeared soon after the other frame was up. I could see Siberian on the rooftop. They’d escaped just in time to avoid being caught in a melee with her.
Trickster rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck and adjusted his hat.
“Don’t waste time,” Grue growled. “Do it.”
“Times like this call for a certain flourish,” Trickster said. Trickster withdrew a small remote from his pocket and depressed the button.
The rooftops the other two teams had been situated on virtually shattered with the explosions. The bazooka rounds had also carried a small collection of plastic explosives. Since Trickster’s team had only needed the sniper rifle, their case held a hell of a lot more.
Part five done. Baiting the hook, reeling them in, then hitting them as hard as we could.
It wouldn’t stop them, of course. The only ones that explosion might have hurt were Shatterbird and maybe Mannequin, if he’d survived Ballistic’s attack and slipped around through some other angle. Ideal world, it would also slow down Siberian. More realistically, I was hoping that they’d get pissed, and they’d get sloppy.
I chanced a quick look through the binoculars. Crawler was stampeding towards the site of the explosion, Cherish was still prone on the ground, bleeding out from Trickster’s sniper fire, and I couldn’t make out the others.
Wait, no. I could see rubble shifting as Siberian shrugged it aside. It was enough debris that Crawler would have been hampered, but even with her hands tied up in holding her teammates, she cast the chunks of concrete and brick aside with the same sort of ease that I might walk through a pile of balloons. She shook her head, and her hair fanned out behind her, draping partially over Bonesaw, who was riding her piggy-back.
Jack wasn’t folded over her shoulder anymore. He was standing, holding her hand, a wide smile spread across his face. He said something, some exclamation, without dropping his grin for a second.
And Shatterbird? I looked through the rubble that had been cast over the street around the building. She was lying on the ground, struggling to her feet. The glints of glass shards sparkled for a hundred feet around her. I quickly tossed my binoculars aside. They’d be a liability if she attacked us, now.
Here was the gamble. We’d hurt them, injured their pride, we’d maybe killed Mannequin and we’d incapacitated Cherish. If Ballistic had been on the ball, he would have blown Cherish to smithereens. As it was, a stray bullet wouldn’t cut it. Bonesaw’s known talents included the ability to raise the dead.
Grue used his darkness to form a dozen false-images of shadow-shrouded silhouettes on nearby rooftops. I did the same with my bugs, but mine were animated, moving.
We’d have to run pretty damn soon. There were seven of us, but only two dogs. It was less than ideal. I’d tried to get Bitch to bring another dog, but she didn’t feel any of the others were trained well enough to bear riders.
The remaining members of the Nine charged, Shatterbird rising from her position to fly straight for us, barriers of glass surrounding her. Siberian carried Jack and Bonesaw with leaping bounds, while Crawler headed for us.
I crossed my fingers, watching intently.
Two ways this could go for the final phase of our plan.
Well, three ways. But I was hoping the third possibility—my team getting caught and slaughtered—wouldn’t happen.
The first way this could play out was that Shatterbird’s flight over the buildings would make her faster than Crawler or Siberian, who had to climb or circumvent the obstacles.
When I’d brought this up during the meeting, assuming it would happen, it had been Tattletale who pointed out that I was maybe underestimating how fast Crawler and Siberian could be. She was right. Despite her ability to fly, Shatterbird was falling behind.
Which meant we went with plan B.
“You up for this, Grue?” I asked, “I could do it. My plan, and I was first to volunteer.”
“No, you can’t run fast enough with those burns.” Grue replied, as he hurried to the side of the rooftop furthest from the Nine. He glanced down. “Trickster, I’m ready!”
“Just need an opportunity,” Trickster said, watching the incoming members of the Slaughterhouse Nine. They were closing a little too fast for comfort. Sirius had arrived, and we were all getting saddled. Bitch, Sundancer and I on Bentley, and Regent, Trickster and Ballistic on Sirius. At Regent’s orders, Sirius moved to Grue’s side.
“Sooner than later!” Grue said.
“Do you want to die?” Trickster asked.
“No, but I’m willing to break something!”
“Your call,” Trickster said. “Three, two, one!”
Grue leaped from the edge of the roof. In that same instant, Trickster swapped him with Shatterbird.
She tumbled for a second, got a grip with her flight, and then steadied.
Then Regent hit her with his power. Shatterbird flew into the corner of the roof, was thrown off-balance and tipped into the gap between buildings.
And Grue? I cast a glance backward. He’d dropped out of the air where Shatterbird had been flying, landing on a rooftop a distance below. I could see him struggling to his feet.
“Go, go!” Trickster screamed the words.
Our mounts leaped down into the same gap where Shatterbird had fallen. We made the usual zig-zagging descent down, leaping from wall to wall, and landed on either side of Shatterbird and Genesis.
Genesis looked like a cartoon caricature of a sumo wrestler, grotesquely obese and yellow skinned with eyes like black buttons. She was hairless, unclothed and sexless, and her skin was translucent and oily. Through the skin, I could make out the vague figure of Shatterbird, pounding on the walls of the stomach, her mouth opening in a scream that didn’t reach us. Glass shards were stirring around her, a blender whir cutting at the insides of Genesis’s belly.
“She’s going to cut through,” I said. “Bitch, Regent, get the chains. I’ll try to stop her.”
Using my bugs, I formed words against the surface of Genesis’s belly. ‘Stop’.
Shatterbird only intensified her
attempts.
I gathered some black widow spiders and pressed them gently against the shiny, translucent skin. They were absorbed, drifting inside, and were soon crawling around the inside surface. Genesis obliged me by opening her mouth, giving me a direct route for the bugs to travel.
“Hurry,” Regent said. He was winding the chain around the jello-like yellow hand. Fingerless hands gripped the chain for further traction.
Shatterbird noticed the spiders. Her eyes widened as the volume of deadly spiders trapped in the bubble with her increased. I raked my finger beneath the message I’d drawn with the bugs, as if to underline it. ‘Stop’.
She did. Glass shards fell into a pool around her feet.
“Go!” I shouted.
We ran, the two dogs side by side, pulling Genesis behind us like a chariot.
Drawing my bugs together, I covered us as best as I was able, creating other decoys, vague chariot-shaped lumps here and there, huddles of figures.
It would all be for nothing if they returned to Cherish, revived the girl and tracked us down.
“Left!” I ordered.
Bitch steered left. Regent hadn’t heard, but as the tension on the chains pulled Sirius to one side, he caught on and turned as well.
My bugs served as a navigation system, feeling out the shapes of our surroundings so I could work out a suitable path. We charged onward, with me giving occasional directions, until we found Cherish lying on the ground in a pool of blood.
“Get her!”
Bitch rode just to Cherish’s left, Regent rode just to the right, and Genesis rolled right over the girl. Cherish caught like glue, suffered an unfortunate few seconds of being dragged over the road’s surface, and was then drawn into Genesis’s bubble of a body.
My bugs gave me a sense of the Nine’s locations, and my decoys gave them pause once or twice. We could track them more easily than they could do the reverse, and we were soon far enough away that I couldn’t sense them.
* * *
We only slowed when we got to Coil’s underground base. We parked the dogs and then headed for the series of barred and locked doors. I glanced at Shatterbird and Cherish where they knelt in Genesis’s rotund body. We weren’t really giving away information here. Crawler had apparently come this way, not so long ago.
It was a fifty-fifty chance whether Siberian and the other Nine would come this way. Cherish wasn’t around to give them information, but she might have provided details at an earlier point that Jack or one of the others could use to connect the dots. We’d cross that bridge when we got to it.
Coil was there to greet us with a Tattletale and a contingent of armed soldiers. We waited patiently as one of the soldiers scanned Shatterbird with a plastic wand. He looked at Coil and shook his head.
“This way,” Coil ordered.
How did he set this up so fast?
Shatterbird’s cell was large, twenty feet by twenty feet across, and the walls had the same textured black rubber soundproofing as the sound recording booths I’d seen in movies and on TV. I couldn’t see the speakers, but there was a noise similar to radio static filling the room, so loud I wouldn’t be able to hear if someone spoke.
With our weapons trained on Shatterbird, we stood by while one of Coil’s soldiers reached into Genesis’s stomach and hauled her out. She was chained to the ceiling with her arms stretched out to her sides, then divested of her costume, left only with a silk camisole and slip. Coil’s people wheeled in an x-ray machine and a tank of containment foam.
Shatterbird glared wordlessly at us until we’d exited the room and the heavy vault door blocked our view of her.
“She will be cavity searched and x-rayed to identify any hidden weapon or any devices Bonesaw or Mannequin might have implanted in her,” Coil spoke, after the doors were closed and the white noise was blocked out. “Regent, we have a protective suit waiting for you. In the event that she does acquire something she can use her powers on, or if she has concealed anything on her person that is small enough to avoid radiographic detection, the suit will shield you until you’ve finished.”
Regent nodded.
“She was bitten by brown recluses,” I said. “I’d give her a full physical examination every thirty minutes, to be safe.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know standard treatment for bites of that kind,” Coil said.
Brooks stepped out of the crowd of nearby soldiers. “Sir?”
“Brooks.”
“I’m familiar with the treatment for the more dangerous spider bites,” he looked at me, “It’s a protein-based venom?”
So the jerk is useful sometimes. I hadn’t liked Brooks since Lisa had introduced me to him, but I could respect someone who knew his job. “Yeah.”
“Seems I can leave it to you, then,” Coil said. Brooks nodded. Coil added, “Failing everything else, it might serve as incentive to cooperate.”
“Or cause to get desperate,” Tattletale said. “She might do something stupid if she thinks she’ll die or suffer lifelong effects if she doesn’t get back to Bonesaw.”
“Let’s not give her the opportunity. Regent, how fast can you seize control?”
“A few hours.”
“Start now.”
Regent headed off to get changed.
“That leaves our unexpected guest,” Coil said. “Cherish.”
Regent hadn’t yet escaped earshot. He turned back to us. “She’ll have a trap on her. Small explosive looped around her neck with a lock and a deadman’s switch.”
“Thank you,” Coil said. “Tattletale? See to it at the first opportunity.”
“Not a problem.”
We approached Cherish and Genesis. Cherish knelt in the small pile of glass shards that sat at the very bottom of the bubble. Her hands were pressed against the inside of the stomach, causing it to bulge like a small child in a womb. She was awake, but bleeding severely.
Coil gave the order, “If anyone acts out of character, take them out of action as swiftly as possible and shoot the girl.”
There were nods all around.
Cherish’s mouth moved, but the sound didn’t reach us.
“I did not expect her, and I did not take measures for containing her,” Coil said. “Keeping her on the premises may prove exceptionally dangerous.”
“The alternative being?” Trickster asked. “Letting her go?”
“In the euphemistic sense. Her value as a captive is minimal and we have no way to secure her until Regent can finish using his ability on her.”
“He’s resistant to her power,” Tattletale said. “But that goes both ways. Don’t know how well he’d be able to control her. She might break free. Benefits of being family, I guess.”
“Then I would suggest, as Trickster said earlier, ‘letting her go’. We execute her and remove her from the equation,” Coil stated.
I looked at Cherish, and her eyes narrowed. She knew exactly what we were saying. Killing someone in cold blood? A little different than killing someone on the battlefield.
“Not giving you the go ahead,” I said. “But I’m not about to stop you. I’m washing my hands of this.”
“The intent was to remove individuals from the Nine before they could conduct their round of tests, yes? This seems to be the most expedient route.”
“Not disagreeing,” I said. “But I didn’t sign up to be an executioner. I manage my district and I help defend your city from outsiders, right?”
“Quite right. No, I think your service this morning has been exemplary.”
I only barely managed to avoid bringing up the deal about Dinah. No, it was premature, the wrong people were listening, and I was worried he would point out the fact that my territory had been torched by Burnscar.
Best to keep quiet for now. Rebuild, re-establish myself as leader of my territory, then raise the topic.
Whatever happened, I needed his respect.
We turned our attention to our captive. She had raised her hands above her head in
a surrender position, despite the hole in her shoulder.
“Do we risk it?” Trickster asked. “Letting her out?”
“Nothing she can’t do outside the bubble that she couldn’t do inside,” Tattletale replied. Coil nodded, and that seemed to be signal enough.
Genesis began to dissolve, and in moments, Cherish spilled out, wincing as she cut her hands and knees on the glass that Shatterbird had detached from her costume and weaponized.
Tattletale bent down and looked at the device that hung around Cherish’s neck. “Small explosive, combination lock. A bit paranoid?”
“No such thing as too paranoid,” Cherish said, glaring. “Between my brother and the crap that Bonesaw and the rest of the team want to subject me to, knowing I’ll die if I leave that thing alone long enough actually helps me sleep at night.”
“Can’t have that,” Tattletale said. Changing the topic, she asked, “You like computers?”
“Computers?” Cherish startled. She seemed to intuit what Tattletale was doing. “Not saying.”
“Clever girl, but even that’s enough of a clue. Let’s see… four, five, four five.” Tattletale tugged on the lock. “Nope. Three, seven, three, seven.”
The lock popped open. Cherish’s eyes opened wide.
“There goes your bargaining chip.”
“I’ve got more,” Cherish said, her chin rising a fraction.
“Do tell,” Coil said, dryly.
“Certain teammate of yours paid me a visit. Imp, I think her name was? So hard to remember.”
“What did you do to Imp?” I asked. Grue is going to freak out.
Cherish smiled, “She decided to help me get back at the Nine. They’re planning on inflicting a fate worse than death on me, you see. There was a reason I pretended not to notice you were all waiting in ambush. Thought maybe the brat passed on word somehow, until you used that sucker-teleport on me and shot me. Suppose you’ll have to give me medical attention and keep me alive if you want the rest of the story.”