Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

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Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus) Page 45

by Robert McCarroll


  "Listen up," Pam said. "They outnumber us, so if we hit them now, they'll scatter. The chances of snagging everyone without injury will be pretty bad. We wait for them to enter the store and bottle them up inside. Shadowdemon enters through the skylight. Xiv and I will take the front. Cupric-"

  "Before you tell me to take the loading dock, I should warn you, it's locked and I can't open it."

  "Then when we move, head to the front and run interference at the door."

  "Got it."

  "Everyone know their part?" Pam asked.

  "One thing," I said. "Try to keep damage to the merchandise at a minimum. Trashing a shop tends to turn the public against us, especially when the criminals have been careful not to."

  "Right, thanks," Pam said. I moved over to the skylight and extracted my own tools to get to work on it. Fortunately, compromising locks and bypassing alarms happened to be something I was good at. I opened the skylight and made the jump to the catwalk before Earworm made it through the front doors. My artificial eye compensated for the poor light. There was a four-story drop between the metal grate under me and the main floor of the shop. Just past the entrance were the least expensive items such as replicas and nostalgic curios. Further in, it was divided by category. Sports in one section, movies in another, games in a third, and so on. Hero memorabilia sat at the back of the second floor. Two escalators connected the first floor to the second. The one going down ended right next to the registers. Each floor was a full two stories tall.

  Earworm opened the front door and stepped in. Glancing around, he flicked on the lights.

  "What are you doing?" Suture asked.

  "No windows. No one is going to notice." Donning a pair of gloves, Byrd switched off the 'open' sign.

  "I'm not sure you're worth what I'm paying you. Birdstrike, watch the door." The man in the hoodie moved to complain. Tex rubbed his fingers together in the gesture signifying 'money.' Birdstrike bristled but put up with the moniker. As the others moved towards the idle escalators, Birdstrike closed the door and took up position nearby.

  "We have one bad guy watching the door, the rest moving towards the back of the store," I reported.

  "Got it," Pam said. "We're moving in."

  "Earworm, get this display case open." I took a closer look at the glass-walled tower they'd congregated around. Inside the case was a mannequin wearing the costume of Ranger Roy the Rocket Rider. The dark red, double-breasted jacket was buttoned up to both shoulders with big brass buttons. Similarly-colored braid marked its edges and the shoulder boards. A bulky bronze belt wrapped around its waist. Black gloves coordinated with the trousers that were tucked into brass boots, each of which bore outrigger rocket pods like art deco sandals of Apollo. A bronze, bullet-shaped helmet topped it all off. The sight of it brought a smile to Byrd's face. "I think we've finally found it." Byrd opened his duffel bag, revealing an almost identical costume inside. Its reds were brighter, the brass shinier, and the bronzes replaced by more brass.

  "I wondered what you carried in that bag," Earworm said.

  "Its bad enough I had to pay Maud the trophy wife to get my own heritage," Byrd said. "But she had the gall or incompetence to ship me the wrong suit. She sent the real outfit to someone who bought the movie prop."

  "Wait, you're related to the real Ranger Roy?" Earworm asked.

  "He was my grandfather." Before Byrd could say anything more, the front door was wrenched open. Birdstrike delivered a flurry of punches at Pam, but she turtled up, taking the hits on her forearms while waiting for an opening. Seeing it, she barreled into Birdstrike, sending him tumbling back. The winged man rolled out of the tumble and somersaulted into a perch atop a rack of pseudo-vintage postcards.

  "Dude, you move like a fucking ballerina when fighting, why do you move like a brick when flying?" Earworm asked. Birdstrike flipped him off.

  "Get the lock." Byrd said. Earworm turned around and focused his attention back on the display case. "Stamp, Xiv, Cupric, that's three sidekicks, where's your babysitter?"

  "Aww, he recognized us," Pam said.

  Byrd pointed to each of the sidekicks in turn. "Strength and toughness. Senses, agility and dragon's breath. Electricity."

  "Got it," Tex said.

  "How do you know that?" Pam asked.

  "It's called the Internet. I thought you millennials were all about the technology."

  "Suture," Tex said. "Tag the girl. Birdstrike, switch to the dragon, I got the green guy."

  "Keep your eyes peeled, there's at least one more waiting in the wings," Byrd said.

  "Who should I-" Earworm started.

  "Lock! Now!" As Earworm turned back to the case, Suture flowed over the rail, her flips crossing dozens of feet as if it were a stride. Her long arms came down against Pam's forearms with a sound like a thunderclap. The hit sent Pam skidding back to the doors.

  "This girl's got some kick," Pam said, a grin crossing her face. "This should be fun." She charged forward, battering past Suture's arms to deliver a kick to her midriff. The impact sounded like a pile driver hitting a slab of beef. Suture slid back along the floor, her fingers tearing rents in the linoleum to slow her down. Birdstrike flipped over Pam and tried to bring a heel down on Xiv's head. Xiv dove out of the way. Ben tried to deliver a shock to Birdstrike, but the winged man wove past him to pursue his target. I figured I should make an entrance.

  Hopping off the catwalk, I came down feet-first on Earworm's shoulders. Unfortunately, this drove his head into the display case. The glass shattered and rained down around us. "Shadowdemon," Byrd said backing up. "No powers, just gadgets."

  "Right," Earworm said, groggy and bleeding from a few superficial cuts. I caught his fist as it came towards my face and delivered three quick punches to his torso. Earworm raised his free hand and opened it wide. A horrible 'scree' sound filled the air, and the world began to wobble before finally spinning around me. Whatever frequency the sound was operating on, it had my inner ear rattled. I staggered back almost drunkenly. My flailing failed to fend off the punches and kicks Earworm delivered. My balance and concentration were both being scrambled by the sound. Any more of it, and I was going to puke.

  I fired my line launcher upwards and hurtled out of the area. As I swung slowly near the ceiling, my focus started to come back to me. "Nice try," Earworm said, stepping off the railing and into the air. As he flew towards me, I bubbled him. The force bubble formed a sphere of red static wrapped in a nimbus of shadow. As Earworm pummeled the inner wall of the bubble, he cried out. "Hey! You said he had no powers!"

  "It's a gadget," I said. I prayed he didn't realize that sound had no problem passing through the bubble. If he had other sonic devices in his arsenal, it wouldn't bode well for me. That is, assuming the noise came from a device and wasn't an innate power. Since he didn't seem to be taking any action, I took a quick look at how the rest of the fight was going. Pam and Suture had knocked over a few of the stands in their battle. They traded blows that would cripple an ordinary human with a regularity and a fervor that made me worry about Pam's sanity.

  Tex floated on a short column of flame beneath his wheels, locked in a staring contest with Ben. Ben's face was unnaturally slack, and he seemed oblivious to Xiv's efforts to prevent Birdstrike from delivering a knockout blow. I brought the bubbled Earworm around and tried to slam it into Tex. The dwarf spotted the move and darted out of the way. It did, however, break their eye contact and let Ben shake off the stupor. "I wouldn't toy with Suture too long if I were you," Earworm called out. "Those bandages aren't just for show, she carries a lovely selection of infections. They don't hurt her, but I hear she's contagious."

  "You're an ass," Suture said.

  "You're a walking pestilence, people should be afraid to touch you," Earworm said. I shrank the bubble slightly, causing him to have to crouch down. "What?"
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  "That's no way to talk to your teammate," I said.

  "Shadowdemon, can you contain Suture here?"

  "Not with her limbs outstretched, she's too tall for a force bubble. She'd have to be almost fetal." Pam ducked a few swipes from Suture.

  "I got an idea, give me the loudmouth." I used the force bubble to swat Suture away from Pam before dropping Earworm at her feet. Realizing he was free from the bubble, Earworm smiled, until Pam picked him up from behind. She moved her grip to his wrists as Suture moved in again.

  "Now where are those triggers?" Pam asked, moments before the horrible 'scree' sound split the air again. Earworm was not strong enough to break Pam's grip, and the sound was mostly directional. Its worst effects battered Suture. She clutched the sides of her head as the noise rattled her brain. Xiv scurried off up the wall, a grimace of pain burned into his features. With his sensitive hearing, I didn't doubt it. Suture doubled over, and I wrapped her in a force bubble as Birdstrike clocked Ben. Ben staggered back but remained standing. He was doing better, I used to drop him in one punch. Pam crushed the sound emitters in Earworm's gloves with her fingertips, then threw him to Ben. "Take him down."

  "Oh, cr-" A jolt of electricity cut off Earworm's comment. He dropped to the tile with a groan. Ben didn't fare much better as Birdstrike laid into him with a string of punches ending with a knee to the gut. Rolling along the floor, Ben laughed. It was a pained, gasping laugh.

  "Is that it? I've been beaten up by better." Ben developed a bootprint on his face, but he held Birdstrike's attention long enough for Pam to grab the winged man. Slipping her arms under his, she interlocked her fingers behind his head.

  "You know I've got strength to spare," Pam said, "You might move fast, but I don't think you can break out of a full-nelson without breaking your own bones." As I started looking around for loose ends to tie up, a red and brass streak hurtled into my midsection. I let out line as I was carried along the ceiling to the front wall. As I crashed into brick, I realized Byrd must have donned the Ranger Roy costume. Pinning me to the wall, his free hand pummeled me with punches. I focused my attention on not losing Suture's bubble as I weathered the attack.

  The analytical voice in my brain spoke up. There was no way that the little rockets on his boots were holding our combined weight. My mind and my eye went to the oversized belt, particularly the buckle. It looked a little too much like a dial of some sort. Raising Suture's bubble above the merchandise, I moved my left hand over and cranked the dial down to its lowest setting. Normal physical laws reasserted themselves, and we dropped like a stone. Or rather, a stone on a rope. Smashing into the linoleum, we tumbled along the floor. The horrible crash of Suture's bubble smashing through a brick wall drained the blood from my face.

  "Way to not trash the shop, Fearless Leader," Pam said.

  Retracting the cable connecting me to the ceiling, I punched Byrd. In hindsight, it was not all that bright either. While his head rattled around inside the helmet, my knuckles complained about being pounded into bronze plate. Byrd landed on his rear, and I carefully maneuvered Suture back inside the shop through the hole I'd made in the wall.

  "I got him, I got him," Xiv said, looking more than a little cross-eyed and disoriented. He was clutching something in his arms.

  "Xiv, that's a stuffed bear." Xiv shook his head, trying to get his brain back in order.

  "But... But I grabbed him!" Xiv said.

  "Tex hypnotized you kid," Earworm said, trying to sit up. Pam planted a foot on his chest, pinning him to the floor.

  "The little man ditched us," Birdstrike said. "Figures."

  Byrd slipped the helmet off. "You know, if you had stayed out, Earl and Earl would still have an intact shop, no damage to their merchandise or bottom line, and I'd get what I originally paid for. All you managed to do was make things worse all around."

  "Why didn't you just sue?"

  "I barely had the twenty grand to pay these guys. Maud has my four million, plus the proceeds from hocking Grandpa's stuff to the vultures. She'd drag it out in the courts until I was too destitute to keep fighting."

  "Xiv, get the restraints," I said.

  "So you're back to being our fearless leader?" Pam asked.

  "The fight's over. You guys did fine." I looked at the stars visible through the hole in the wall. "I'm the one who screwed up today."

  "Are we still getting paid?" Earworm asked. "I don't want a public defender."

  "I already gave Tex your payment," Byrd said.

  "That son of a--"

  Heartstrings

  Snow covered the sedate grounds of the Leyden Academy campus. Large banks of it lined the back edge of the parking lot. Smaller banks lined the walkways leading up to the brick edifice of the main building. The chill air misted Errol's breath as the security guard at the front door looked over his note. After a moment, the overbuilt man led him into the main office to process the excused tardiness. Inside the warm building, Errol doffed his coat. The male student uniform was a dark suit with the school crest on the breast of the jacket. The boys' dress code required a full Windsor knot on the tie and hair no longer than two inches. Errol's light brown crop of hair was getting close to violating that limit.

  As the secretary scrutinized the note, Errol's gaze went to the poster on the wall. The image was of a winged young man drawing bead on a couple with a bow and arrow, the arrowhead replaced with a stylized heart. "The Community Fund presents the 81st Annual Heartstrings Statewide Archery Tournament, Saturday, February 14th," it read. A note taped over part of the poster announced, "Last chance to qualify, Friday February 13th, 3pm."

  "All right Mister Rickard," the secretary said. She held out a hall pass. "Head to your locker. The bell will probably ring before you get there."

  "Thank you, ma'am," Errol said, taking the pass. Though brightly lit, the halls of the school held an eerie silence as all of the students were ensconced within the classrooms. He had barely made it to his locker and hung his coat before the 'end of period' bell rang and the comforting roar of voices filled the air, and students poured into the halls. After trying several different times, Errol couldn't find a position in which the hard-sided case he carried would fit in the locker. With a frown, he continued to carry it, knowing he risked demerits for its presence in the classrooms. Or worse, if someone opened it and overreacted.

  Slinging his backpack over his shoulders, Errol headed towards the second floor where his chemistry class was. His gaze kept wandering to the girls he passed in the hall. Their uniforms were conservative: a jacket over a white blouse with a long, pleated skirt that met the tops of their tall socks. No degree of conservative attire would thwart the hormonal urges that had taken up permanent residence in Errol's hindbrain. For the most part, fear did that. A shock of bright red hair caught his attention. A flash from her dark blue eyes and the bemused twist of her coral lips had facts and doubts bouncing between Errol's drives and his anxieties. He didn't know her name, and she certainly didn't know his. He'd seen her before, but never with anyone in particular. He forced himself to step close enough to be heard over the conversational din of the hallway.

  "Umm, hi," he blurted out. "My name's Errol." Before the redhead could say anything, her locker was slammed closed by an angry blonde he did have a name for.

  "Get lost, manure boy," Sarah Fox said.

  "Manure boy?" the redhead asked, an eyebrow raised.

  "His grandfather's our gardener," Sarah said. "Come spring, he'll smell like the back end of a horse. You don't want to hang around with him." Sarah all but dragged the redhead off as Errol burned with embarrassment. The ring of the warning bell sent him scurrying to class. He tried not to catch the gaze of the creepy kid with the eyepatch as he moved to his lab bench. Setting the hard case on the floor, Errol kept it as unobtrusive as he could manage. Setting the backpack on the
lab bench, he rooted around for the chemistry text.

  The first thing he dragged out of the bag twisted a new knot in his guts. The flat plastic case of about four by six inches was remarkable in that it did not have the Uberwald Archery logo he expected. As he opened the case, a power cord unraveled, plopping the connector on the stone bench top. Inside were a couple of glass vials, unidentified mechanical devices, and dials packed behind a small LCD display. It was unfamiliar to Errol, but he knew whose it had to be. As he fought to hastily coil the cord back inside the case, Mister O'Brien scooped the device out of his hands.

  "You know school policy Mister Rickard, no gadgets in class." The chemistry teacher continued towards the front of the room. "You can have this back at the end of the day." O'Brien dropped the device into his desk drawer without having taken a close look at it. Errol swallowed hard, his throat dry with dread.

 

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