by wildbow
The gun dropped from my hand as the recoil jarred it. It clattered to the pavement. It was quiet enough that I could only hear the ocean water crashing against the shore, just off the beach.
As an afterthought, I kicked the gun a distance away from where Calvert lay. Not that there was much point. I tried to learn from my mistakes.
I felt Tattletale’s arm settle around my shoulders. “We’re done. This is over.”
“The Travelers will be pissed. I can’t—we can’t kill them,” I said.
“We won’t. They’ll move on. They have no more reason to stay.”
Grue stepped around my left side, bent down, took Calvert’s cell phone from the man’s belt and then tossed it to Tattletale. As Tattletale withdrew her arm from my shoulders, he stepped forward to give me a hug. “Let’s go.”
I nodded into his shoulder.
We turned away. With my swarm sense I was able to recognize Minor, Tattletale’s man, helmetless, opening the doors of one van for us. I took a seat.
It wasn’t Tattletale or Grue that sat down beside me, but Rachel. She took my hand in hers, held it fiercely. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I simply accepted it.
* * *
We stopped at Coil’s underground base. Tattletale’s underground base. It was a relief to escape the silence of the van, surreal to be in the dim noise of downtown again. Much of the area still lacked power, but there were the noises of the occasional car, of people clamoring on the bottom floor of an apartment building. City noises.
“You okay?” Grue asked.
“More bothered by the fact that I’m not bothered,” I said. I knew how little sense I was making, but I didn’t feel like elaborating.
“But you’re okay?”
I nodded, coughed fiercely for a few seconds.
“Our next stop after this is the hospital.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
As it had been at sunset, the base was empty. The metal walkway sang with my footsteps as I walked to the far end of the complex. I stopped at a door without a handle.
“Here,” Tattletale said. She held Calvert’s cell phone. Held it up and pressed a sequence of buttons.
The door clicked open. I forced my fingers into the gap and hauled it open. Heavy and metal.
There was one more door, one with a key lock. Tattletale stepped over to the desk and got the key, opened it.
Dinah was inside with an unassuming man in a turtleneck sweater and corduroy pants.
“Go,” Tattletale told the man. “Your boss is dead. Just go.”
He fled.
“I’m going to get Regent,” she said. “Think we’ll leave Shatterbird in her soundproof cage for now, just to be safe.”
I nodded absently. I was holding on to Grue for support, watched as Dinah stood from the bed and slowly approached.
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she stared down at the ground between us, “I’ve been waiting for this for so very long.”
It didn’t sound like an accusation. More the words of someone who had been forced to watch the clock for days, weeks, months. Anticipating a possible moment that might never come.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
She shook her head, “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were trying hard and I set you up, so you’d go the way where your friends tried to kill you. I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey, it’s okay. It offered us the best chances in the end, right?”
She bobbed her head in a nod.
A second later, she was running to me, wrapping her arms around my midsection. I winced in pain as her forehead banged against my chest.
“Medical care,” Grue said.
“For both of us,” I replied. “Dinah and me.”
“Yeah.”
As a trio, we stepped out onto the walkway, where Tattletale and Regent should have been waiting.
But I could see Regent at the end of the walkway, and Tattletale wasn’t with him. She was hurrying down the spiral stairs just to Regent’s left.
I leaned over the walkway, as much as I was able with the pain in my chest and Dinah clinging to my midsection. My eyes went wide. A moment later, I was hurrying after Tattletale, holding Dinah’s hand in one of my own and Grue’s elbow in the other.
We stopped when we reached Tattletale. She stood facing the vault door. The one that was used to seal Noelle within.
There were two vault doors, one set behind the other, and both were ruined, the one closest to us nearly folded in half, hanging by one hinge.
“A final act of spite,” Tattletale said. She looked at the phone in her hand. “He made sure she heard our conversation.”
“You didn’t notice?”
“He was using his ability to create alternate worlds to throw my power for a bit of a loop. I was more focused on the possibility that he had a loyal soldier in the ranks or a sniper waiting in the distance, ready to take a shot at one of us.”
The odor that wafted from the open vault was like sweat and rotten meat. It was dark. Nothing about it gave the sense of a teenage girl’s living space.
“On a scale of one to ten,” I asked, “just how bad is this?”
“Let me answer your question with another question,” Tattletale said. “You think we could convince the PRT to turn on the air raid sirens?”
Migration 17.1
“Francis!” The word was an admonishment. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”
He hung his head. The luggage he was hauling behind him was on wheels, but he propped it up so it stood straight, sticking his hands into his coat pockets. He reluctantly turned to face his mother.
“We have family over. Your Uncle Felix came all the way from California. I think they might want to spend some time with you this Christmas.”
“You arranged that. I made these plans weeks ago, I told you about them.”
“Nothing that involved luggage,” she folded her arms. Olive skinned, with a hawkish expression, his mother managed to look intimidating even though she was an inch shorter than him.
He bent down and placed the luggage flat on the ground. He unzipped it and opened it for her to see.
She sighed. “It’s not a productive pastime.”
“I’d say it’s pretty productive. We stand to make a pretty decent amount, here.”
“You’re going to make money?”
“We already are. But the thing is, depending on how today goes, we could make a lot more.”
“You’re dissembling, Francis.”
He cringed, more at hearing his name than in response to the accusation. “I was going to save it for an announcement in front of the family tonight, after we see how it goes. We have stuff to hash out first, and it probably won’t be pretty.”
She gestured for him to go on.
He frowned. “We’re on the verge of getting a sponsorship. It’s pretty generous, too, even split between the five members of the team. And it’s in addition to what we already make. Contract’s just for one year, and if we prove ourselves, show we can hold our own, we could get a bigger, better contract when we renew the terms next year.”
“This sounds a little too good to be true.”
“We’re good, mom. Ridiculously good. The sponsors have been talking about us being on the international stage.”
“And just who is us?”
“This is starting to feel like an interrogation.”
“It should. Who’s on the team?”
“Well, there’s two answers to that question—”
“Francis,” she made it sound like a warning.
“You don’t know all of them.”
“Mm hmm. Is your alleged girlfriend in this group?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Her, Ms. Newland’s daughter—”
“Oh, lovely.”
“No, she’s cool. Then there’s this girl named Jess, there’s Cody, and Luke.”
“You left yourself out.”
He
smiled sheepishly.
“You’re not in the group.”
“Yet. Like I said, we have stuff to hash out,” he said. He tried to force the smile from his face and failed.
“It’s dangerous to mix business and friendship.”
“I’m being careful.”
She gave him a sharp look.
“Really!”
“Go. Be back by two.”
“Can’t. Going to take all day. I’ll be back seven-thirty-ish.”
“Seven. If you’re late for dinner I’m taking your biggest present back to the store for a refund.”
“I don’t know how long it’ll take. I can’t make any promises, and all of this is kind of important to me.”
“Then decide if it’s worth losing the present.”
He rolled his eyes. “I guess it is. Love you, mom.”
“Go. Get lost.” She smiled as she said it.
He zipped up his luggage and headed outside.
It was crisp. Fat snowflakes drifted down from above. He tugged his scarf tighter and headed out, the bottom edge of the luggage wiping out his footprints behind him, the wheels serving as the only trace of his passing.
His breath fogged up in the air, making his scarf damp around his mouth. This moisture, in turn, froze, making the fabric of his scarf stiff.
It wasn’t a short walk to the bus stop, and getting the luggage onto the bus was a chore. It didn’t help that it was crowded, packed with men, women and children eager to finish their Christmas shopping. He should have felt bad about the awkwardness of having his luggage there, getting in people’s way as they got on the bus, but he didn’t. A part of him thrived on being annoying. He liked to think it nourished him.
He even felt a little smug. He’d finished his shopping in September. Half of his motivation had been to avoid the hassle. Half was so he could lord it over friends and family.
Getting off the bus with his luggage was twice as hard as getting on. He made his way into the coffee shop and scanned the crowd.
He saw her, but he didn’t hurry to her side. Instead, he spent a moment standing by the door, watching as she stood at the end of the short line. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and the snowflakes had melted into droplets on her eyelashes. Some flakes still clung persistently to her straight brown hair. She made her way to the front, and ordered. While she waited, she dabbed at the snow, wiping her eyes and hair, and then tucked her hat into her pocket.
Seeing her rub her cheeks to warm them, he felt an urge to hold her as tight as she could bear, to feel her cold cheek against his, to warm her with his body, and to let her warm him in turn. It caught him off guard in its suddenness and intensity.
He took a deep breath and crossed the coffee shop to wait by the far end of the counter. He jammed one hand in his pocket, as if that could keep him from following through on the impulse. After a few seconds, he pulled it out again. He did have self control.
Her face lit up as she saw him. He, in turn, snapped a smart salute. “Captain Noelle, ma’am!”
“Don’t!” She blushed. “People are going to stare.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do!”
He smiled and led the way to the nearest empty table. He used one foot to slide the luggage bag against the wall and then pulled her chair out for her.
“I can’t tell if you’re being a gentleman or if you’re trying to sweeten me up for this talk of ours.”
“I’ll take that as a good thing. It means I still get the brownie points, but you won’t be hard on me to make up for the fact that I’m being conniving.”
“I should.”
“Besides, it’s my prerogative to treat you well, right?”
She smiled a little and took another sip of coffee.
“We are boyfriend and girlfriend?” he asked. He could see the smile fall from her face. He hurried to speak before she could protest. “Probationary boyfriend and girlfriend. You know you can still break this off any time, right? Don’t give a second thought to my feelings.”
“That’s not it. I like you, Krouse.”
Francis Krouse felt something jolt inside him. It was like surprise but not. He already knew she liked him, but hearing it said… he felt his face warming up, and distracted himself by untucking and folding his scarf.
Finding himself unable to look directly at her, as embarrassed at his own embarrassment as anything else, he replied, “I like you too.”
“I just—I worry I’m not being fair. We don’t actually—”
“We do what we want to do, right? We enjoy each other’s company?”
“Yeah.” She sipped at her coffee again, then put it down to rub her hands for a second. “I enjoy your company.”
Tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. Cold. He reached out with his other hand and placed it under hers to help warm it.
“Look at this. Krouse is being sweet,” a girl said.
He turned in his seat to see the others. Marissa wore a pristine white jacket with a fur ruff. Between her delicate features and the way her blond hair glittered with the moisture of the snow, she looked almost angelic.
Luke was almost the opposite. Grungy, mismatched, dressed in layers, with a plaid green button-up shirt under a blue jacket, and a red t-shirt beneath that. His beard was a thin teenage scruff. He bumped fists with Krouse before sitting down. Krouse was almost embarrassed to realize he was doing something so stereotypically ‘cool’. It had started as something they did ironically and turned into habit.
Jess was the last to join them, navigating between the chairs, tables and other customers, making sharp turns as she wheeled herself to the table. Her hair was shaggy, she had three piercings in one ear and thick eyeliner around her eyes. A shopping bag sat in her lap and more were hooked over the handles of her wheelchair.
“I’m sorry, Jess,” Noelle apologized the second the girl arrived. “We should have found a table closer to the door.”
“She keeps saying she doesn’t want us to treat her different,” Krouse said, shrugging. “Don’t see why we should have.”
Jess gave him the finger. “There’s a middle ground that lies between being an asshole and being so accommodating that you make me feel like a freak. The others have found that middle ground, I don’t see why you can’t.”
“I’m doing exactly what you asked for and not treating you any different than I’d treat a non-cripple.”
“Alright, alright,” Marissa said. “Let’s not get into another argument. We’re short on time.”
Noelle nodded, “We don’t have long before we have to get ready, and we really should figure out what we’re doing. You guys got my emails?”
Marissa sighed, the mood changing in a flash. “Yeah.”
There were nods from the others. Krouse stayed very still, watching them.
“This makes things complicated,” Luke said. “You’re in charge, though, so you get the final say.”
Noelle made a face. “I know, but the problem is we’re not just teammates. We’re friends. And you guys know that Krouse and I are dating. That complicates things. I don’t think I have the perspective to make the call on my own. I put my thoughts in the emails, I’m just hoping you guys can give me some direction. If you say we shouldn’t—”
“No. The shitty thing is that the logic is sound,” Luke said. “No offense, Krouse, but this would be a lot easier if you sucked and we could kick you to the curb.”
Krouse shrugged.
Luke went on, “Look, if we were talking about staying local, being casual about this, or even sticking to the national level, we’d keep Cody. He’s reliable, but he’s not at the level we need if we’re actually going international. He’s boring, he doesn’t have fans. He won’t get any future sponsors interested. To top it off, he’s too traditional. He won’t surprise our opponents. They know how to deal with people like him.”
Noelle nodded. “Say what you will about Krouse, like how he’s crap when it com
es to calling shots—”
“Hey.”
“Or even the fact that he’s prone to ignoring orders if he thinks it’ll help us. Um, he’s right so long as it’s just him operating solo, but yeah… The thing is, if we’re talking about the big picture, international recognition and going head to head with the best in the world… Krouse has the natural ability to change things up, so we can adapt our strategies to whatever they’re able to pull off.”
“And he has fans,” Jess said. “As many as any two of us combined.”
Krouse couldn’t help but smirk.
“As a call for the good of the team, it makes sense,” Luke said. “But in terms of our friendships, well, Cody’s going to be hurt. He put in a lot of effort helping us get to this point. He’s my friend, just like Krouse is. This is a pretty big betrayal, kicking the guy off the team right before we get our sponsorship.”
“Will the sponsor be okay with this?” Jess asked.
“As long as we prove we’re ready this afternoon,” Noelle said.
“You know the arguments Cody’s going to make,” Marissa said.
“Yeah.”
“Can I say something?” Krouse asked.
He could see them glancing at one another, trying to decide.
“So long as it’s helpful,” Jess replied.
“Look. Cody is a type A personality. Like Marissa—” he saw Marissa’s expression change and added, “I don’t mean that in a bad way. Marissa and Cody are training the hardest and practicing the most. That’s respectable. The difference is, well, we’ve all seen how much time Cody puts in. And I think he’s hit his ceiling, and he knows it. He’s not keeping up, and I don’t know how much he’s going to improve over the coming months or years.”
“And me?” Marissa asked.
“I don’t know how close you are to hitting the ceiling, but you have natural talent and ability that Cody doesn’t. I would have zero worries with you backing me up, even on the world stage.”
She pursed her lips.
“Anyways, we’re talking about Cody. He’s not improving. If I’m on the team, I’m going to work harder, I’m going to improve in every department, and I fully expect you guys to kick my ass to make me do it. And I’ve been pretty excellent already.”