by wildbow
“Stuff. We weren’t quite sure where you went, and you kind of made it impossible to get the car out of the driveway,” Luke said. “So we went shopping, so to speak. Brought back clothes, toiletries, and all the cash we could get out of the registers, pretty much every place within walking distance. We even got an old wheelchair for Jess, rinsed off the seat in the shower upstairs. We’re just waiting for it to dry off.”
Krouse smiled. “Good man.”
Luke wasn’t smiling back. “It feels shitty, stealing.”
“Nobody’s going to touch that money anyways,” Krouse said. “Not with it being in the quarantine area. That was a smart move, really. Does this mean we’ve got everything we need to get by for the next while?”
“Pretty much. You should go through the stuff we brought and make sure it all fits, and that you aren’t going without something essential.”
“You didn’t happen to pick up cigarettes?”
Luke frowned, “I shouldn’t have, told myself you didn’t deserve it after what you pulled.”
“But?”
“But I did.”
“Best friend!” Krouse smiled, spreading his arms wide.
Luke shook his head. “You don’t deserve it.”
“I don’t. But I’ll make it up to you by getting us out of here with my power. Shouldn’t be hard; there weren’t all that many soldiers outside the fence, and we can swap ourselves for them, maybe. If Cody cooperates, that makes it even easier.”
“And Noelle?” Luke asked. “Does she have powers?”
“Apparently,” Krouse said. “Though I don’t have any idea of how it works. You guys give any consideration to the idea of using the rest of the juice?”
Luke was nodding a little.
“Luke!” Jess said, aghast.
“What? Half the damage is already done,” he said. “And as far as I’m concerned, the benefits of getting more powers outweighs the possible danger. We don’t have any real income, we don’t have anybody to go to for help, and it’s going to be far easier to get funds if we can do something like mercenary work with a team of people with powers. Like Cody was talking about, we could hire someone to get us home.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Jess said.
Luke sighed, “Let’s be honest. If it’s just Noelle, Cody and Krouse who have powers, I’m worried things will get ugly. There’s too much tension, but I don’t think any of us are willing to leave the group and strike out on our own, not when it means being all alone in a strange world. So we’re stuck together, and that means there’s going to be conflict. If they aren’t the only ones with powers, then at least we can do something to stop a fight from erupting.”
“I don’t know,” Jess said. “I feel like it’ll make the problem worse. And you talk as if being a superpowered mercenary isn’t dangerous. And it won’t be that easy to find a tinker who can give us a way home.”
“There’s a thousand mad scientist types in this world, aren’t there? Someone knows how to get us back,” Krouse said.
Jess frowned.
“Jess,” Luke spoke. “Superpowers. And the stuff healed Noelle. Maybe it’ll heal your legs. Think about it. Walking, dancing? Running? Other stuff, stuff with boys?”
Her expression shifted a fraction. For the first time since the powers had been brought up, he thought maybe there was a sign of interest.
She looked at Krouse, and Krouse shrugged. “We have three and a half vials left. Someone’s going to get only a half dose.”
“You’re assuming I take one,” Jess said.
“I am,” he echoed her. “She set Cody against me, so I had an adversary, putting me off balance. Then used Noelle’s injury to push me to act. And you guys? You, Luke, Marissa and Oliver? She kept you occupied. Kept you focused on yourselves. You want to talk about the Simurgh’s game plan? It centers around me. I can’t see any other way of looking at it. She isn’t aiming to have you guys get mondo powers and kill a president or something. Why would she make Oliver feel like crap if that was her end goal?”
“It’s you?” Luke asked.
“Doesn’t it make sense? Just look at where the focus is. She distracted you guys because you were the ones who could have talked sense into me. The can of worms is opened, and I’m the person she’s turned into a guided missile.”
“You don’t sound too worried for someone who believes that,” Luke said.
“I’m… I’m processing it,” Krouse admitted. “But that’s what it looks like, to me. And if there isn’t anything that points to me being wrong? Maybe I should just help you guys get home, then stay here. Become a hermit or something. Let me keep however much leftover cash we wind up with, and I’ll find an apartment and while away the rest of my days watching movies and playing games over the internet, not saying two words to anyone. Don’t know how much damage I could do that way.”
“Or come with us,” Luke said. “There’s no way she can see the future of this world and ours. No way she’s turned you into some ticking time bomb that’s going to fuck our world over.”
Krouse shrugged, “Maybe. I can decide when we get that far.”
“Three and a half vials,” Jess said.
Krouse nodded. She’s on board.
“You took the Jaunt one and the Division one,” Luke said.
“Leaving…”
Luke was already getting a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it. “Prince, Deus, Robin and half of whichever vial you gave to Noelle.”
“Half of Division,” Krouse said. “Funny. But it doesn’t look like Noelle has powers. She’s said her skin fizzes, whatever that means, but maybe it’s incomplete…”
“I’ll take half,” Oliver said.
All eyes turned to him. Oliver continued, “If Noelle doesn’t want to finish it, I’ll take half. I’m not strong, I’m not brave, or smart, or creative. I don’t have it in me to be a hero. So as long as you don’t ask me to risk my life fighting stuff like the Simurgh, I’ll take the half, try to find other ways to help.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Krouse said. “You’re a decent guy.”
“Maybe,” Oliver said. He sounded sad, “Maybe I’m decent. But I’m not a great guy. Like I said, nothing about me is special. Nothing’s exceptional. So I’ll take half.”
“Okay,” Krouse said. “Anyone want to call dibs on the others?”
“Robin,” Luke said. “Sounds like it might mean I could fly.”
“Mars?” Jess asked. “You care?”
Marissa shook her head.
“Then Deus for me.”
“That leaves me with Prince,” Marissa said. “I hope it doesn’t turn me into a boy.”
“Are they still next door?” Krouse asked.
Luke nodded.
“We dose you guys one at a time so we can be sure we have everything under control and minimize any damage. Then we’ll leave before sunrise.”
The others nodded.
* * *
The car coasted down the long highway, the windshield wipers clearing away the moisture of the freezing rain. Krouse pumped the windshield washer fluid and then wiped it away.
Madison was well behind them, now. Odd, how it felt like he was leaving home, even when it wasn’t really his city. A bad copy, an ugly copy. One with more violence, where the criminals could do far, far worse, by virtue of having more power. Having powers. That was without even touching on Endbringers, the Simurgh, and the desolate quarantine area.
Cody was in front. Krouse didn’t mind, didn’t care about giving up that token alpha-maleness. If that’s all it took for Cody to be satisfied for the time being, he’d accept it.
He’d save his strength for the more serious conflicts. They would happen.
The sun was rising. It was a bit of a relief. Driving in the rain and snow, in the dark, with the headlights seeming to extend a scant twenty feet ahead? It sucked. The rain continued, and the sky was overcast, but it was transitioning into a
beautiful sort of overcast, with dark purples and oranges.
He looked at where Noelle sat in the passenger seat, reached over and squeezed her hand.
She looked at him and smiled a little. It was better than he’d gotten in the last little while, and the surge of relief he experienced was almost palpable.
Marissa and Jess were in the back seat, either already sleeping or most of the way there. He’d resisted the urge to comment, to note how the girls were with him, avoiding Cody. They knew something was off. That Cody was just a little too aggressive. A little too testosterone driven. As far as Krouse was concerned, it said something that the girls felt safer with him, even after everything that had happened.
They had their powers, and there was a slight cast of disappointment for everyone involved.
Jess could walk… but only with the images she projected. Her real body seemed largely unaffected. She got to experience everything she’d never had a chance to, even got to fly, but at the end of the day, she was still in the chair.
Marissa was managing to create flickers of light between her hands. She’d stopped when a nearby piece of paper had caught on fire, resolving to try it when there was more open space.
Luke was especially disappointed with his power; it hadn’t been flight. No, it was destructive, singular and without any versatility. He turned anything he touched into a projectile. It would be useful for mercenary work, if they were willing to take on the more dangerous jobs. It came down to how long they were willing to wait before they got home, and how much money was demanded of them.
It was the day before Christmas Eve, Krouse remembered. He’d have to be thankful for their well being, at least. They were alive. Things were okay. Not great, but not as hopeless as they might have seemed before. And things had settled down, at least. For the first time since the others had joined him and Noelle at the coffee shop to discuss his inclusion on the team, things were calm. They’d find a way to put their new powers to work. They’d get money, get themselves home.
Things made sense again. Mostly made sense.
Cody’s turn signal came on. He was pulling into a rest stop. One of the off-the-highway areas with a few fast food places and a gas station.
There weren’t many cars on the road, this time of morning, and less in the rest stop parking lot. Cody pulled in just beside the front door. Before Krouse was able to pull into another parking spot, Oliver was out of the door, running for the bathroom.
Oliver hadn’t changed either. Half a dose apparently wasn’t enough. It did seem to make the aftermath of drinking the stuff worse, though. Oliver’s condition had been nearly as drawn out as Noelle’s after he’d taken his dose.
“Anyone need to make water?” Krouse asked. “Fast food places might be open if you’re hungry.”
The two girls in the back seat groaned, but they roused.
“Want help with the chair?” he asked.
“We’ve got it,” Noelle said. She flashed Krouse a small smile and headed inside.
Krouse fished in his pocket for a cigarette, whispered praise to Luke. He popped it in his mouth and then started looking for the lighter.
Noelle knocked on the windshield, gave him a death glare.
“What?” He offered her an exaggerated shrug.
“Not in the car!” she admonished, her voice muffled by the intervening windows.
He smiled a little, climbed out of the car, leaned against the door and lit the cigarette. While he puffed, he stared at the clouds as faint traces of the sunset’s colors traced across them. The rain was freezing cold and irritating, but the cigarette was worth it.
When he’d finished the first and the others hadn’t returned, he resigned himself to walking across the parking lot to a spot where there was shelter from the rain, starting on a second cigarette.
He was halfway done when Marissa came outside. He walked slowly in the direction of the car, taking a deep pull on the cigarette, thinking of how to gracefully point out that the others were taking a long time. Then he saw her eyes.
She was afraid, white as a sheet, and she was silent in a way that suggested she didn’t know what to say.
He ran her way, spitting out the cigarette. She held the door open for him, and then led the way toward the women’s bathroom.
There was a heavyset manager from one of the fast food places just at the door, shouting at Cody in a gruff voice. Krouse ignored them, headed inside the bathroom, ignoring the manager’s shouted protests.
Noelle had crumpled to the ground at the far end of the bathroom. Oliver, Luke and Jess were huddled around her. Marissa moved straight to Noelle’s side.
“Don’t touch me!” Noelle screamed, her voice shrill.
Marissa stepped away, hands raised, as if showing she were unarmed, safe.
“What happened?” Krouse asked, his voice quiet enough that the others might hear, but Noelle wouldn’t.
Each of the others gave him a look, expressions haunted.
He stepped closer, to get a better view. Noelle’s pants were down around her knees. Her jacket meant Krouse couldn’t see anything but her thighs. There was a mark about a foot long and eight inches wide, raised on her left leg. Red, angry, it was wrinkled and blistered like a bad burn.
She saw him. moved to try and cover herself, “Don’t look, Krouse!”
He turned to step away, to turn his back, but Jess reached out, caught his pants leg.
He looked again, saw Noelle’s head hanging, her hair a curtain around her face. She was sobbing.
The skin on the angry red mark parted. There was no surprise from the others; they’d seen this already.
Beneath the angry red skin on Noelle’s thigh, there was an eyeball, twice the normal size, with a broad yellow iris. Noelle’s hands were clenched into fists, gripping the cloth of her jeans as the eye’s gaze darted from one member of their group to another. It settled on Krouse.
Accusatory.
Migration 17.8
“He’ll be one minute,” the woman at the front desk spoke.
Trickster nodded.
“If you’d like to take a seat…” The woman trailed off.
“I prefer to stand.”
“As you wish.”
“Can I smoke?”
“No.”
“If I open a window—”
The woman at the desk frowned. “My employer is… particular.”
“I’ve heard.”
“If you leave the cigarette butts lying around, or if this room smells too strongly of smoke after you’ve left, he will be upset.”
“I understand.”
“It’s your funeral,” she said.
Trickster stepped over to the window, found the latch, and swung it open. He rested his elbows on it and leaned out, drew a cigarette and lit it, being sure to hold it and exhale outside of the window.
The Boston skyline stretched out before him, with the ocean in the distance. Over the last year and three months, he’d picked up on how things were subtly different in this world. It wasn’t explicit, wasn’t overt, but he couldn’t help but notice that all of the newer constructions were sturdier. Buildings were more reinforced, just a little thicker where supports were required, as though disaster was always at the periphery of the designer’s attention. At the same time, windows were often larger, and many apartments had floor-to-ceiling windows for a wider view of the world beyond.
How had Jess put it? This world was sublime. A world that was awesome in the truer sense of the word, greater in so many respects. In a metaphorical sense, the peaks were higher, the valleys lower, works of art more artful, extremes more… extreme. It wasn’t a good thing. Make the mountains twice as tall and the chasms twice as deep, and things start crumbling.
He missed home, but every day, every week, home felt a little further away.
“Accord will see you now, Trickster.”
Trickster nodded, crushed his cigarette against the outside of the building, flicked it over the ledge, and
then stepped away to close and latch the window before entering the office. He was sure to remove his hat.
Supervillains were weird. Every one of them had different rules, different aesthetics, different goals. All of them, himself included, had their own issues.
Accord wasn’t the most influential figure in Boston. That was why Trickster had approached him. He didn’t even look like a supervillain. He looked like a CEO. Only an ornate mask with curling, overlapping bands of dark metal trimmed in silver marked him as anything more. His hair was oiled and neatly parted, and his white suit had been brushed clean with immaculate care. Trickster doubted there was even a fingerprint or a glimmer of tarnish on Accord’s silver tie pin. For all his presence, Accord was barely over five feet in height.
For his part, Trickster had taken care to clean his own clothing and comb his own hair. It was becoming a ritual, entering a new city. One typically had to find the meeting place. Virtually every city with ten or more supervillains had one, a neutral ground for the villains to meet. He would then find the people in the know, pay some of the money he’d held on to from the last city to get the necessary information on who was who and how they operated, and move on from there. He’d been briefed thoroughly on Accord.
“Trickster, was it?”
“Yes,” Trickster stepped forward. He offered his hand.
Accord shook it, his grip strong.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m observing formalities. My team, as you may know, tends to move from location to location, city to city. It’s a bad idea to settle down for any length of time in an area owned by a local power, so I wanted to ask permission first.”
“I see.”
“If you saw fit to grant that permission, I would then ask if you’d let us engage in some minor activity. Robbing low-level stores, primarily. Possibly a bank. All in your area.”
“If I granted that permission, Trickster,” Accord raised a warning finger. “I would not be doing so for free.”
Trickster nodded. “I understand, and I wouldn’t expect you to. We’ve recently passed through Richmond, Paine, Baltimore and Philadelphia. Each time, we paid a modest up front fee to anyone that hosted us in their territory. We also offered up a twelve, thirteen, twelve and ten percent share, respectively, of our take. For you, if you’ll allow me to make an opening offer, I’d suggest ten thousand dollars up front and a fourteen percent share of anything we gain. We’ll be saying for ten days.”