Worm

by John Mccrae Wildbow

  I’d need a shower after this. Ten showers. And I’d pay to use a gym or pool or something, so I didn’t have to endure the craptacular shower at the loft while I scrubbed my skin raw. Ninety percent of my rationale for designing a costume that covered my entire body was for this exact reason, damn it.

  Why hadn’t I brought my costume? Why?

  I flinched at the deafening roar of a gunshot. Waited with my breath held, until I heard the murmur of conversation at the door again, Bitch’s voice. A warning shot?

  I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and sent a text out, selecting Brian, Lisa and Alec as the recipients:

  Half a dozen skinheads here. At least one gun. Need backup.

  My phone vibrated with a reply a few seconds later. Brian:

  Omw. was headin home. will take minute.

  No immediate reply from the other two. My phone displayed the time as 1:38. Close enough to lunch for me to mark it as a continuation of the trend. I was going to develop an anxiety disorder over this. I texted him directions, informing him to look for the building with the crane.

  Enough bugs had gathered to cover me, with plenty to spare. I’d wanted to be absolutely sure I was covered, so I piled them on top of one another, several layers deep. It was stifling. I was forced to breathe through my nose, and my vision was obscured by the bugs that had collected on my glasses. More than that, it was hot in the midst of the dense swarm. Still, I was happier enduring it than risking being identified.

  I looked out the nearest boarded up window that I could see through, and saw that the group hadn’t moved. The man with the bottles said something, but I couldn’t make it out. My leaving to grab the knife and send the texts had carried me out of earshot.

  I ran back to the front door, keeping to the same half-crouch as before, to ensure nobody saw me through the gaps in the boards on the windows. I pulled my shoes back on, straightened, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

  “Jesus fuck!” a twenty-something skinhead cursed as I moved to Bitch’s side. I had a vague sense of what I must have looked like – a tower of swarming insects with vague human definition to it, giving the loose shape of a head, with vague indents in the ‘face’ where my eyes were.

  Even Bitch’s eyes widened a fraction as she saw me.

  “The hell?” she muttered.

  I stayed quiet, keeping my attention on their group.

  Bottle man looked me over, then spoke in a low voice, “Tom, was it? Would you do the honors and deal with this amateur horror show?”

  The teenage boy, turned the handgun my way, pointed at chest level. He smirked and grinned, “My pleasure.”

  The scene with Bakuda and her minions hadn’t been so different. Only difference was, Tom didn’t hesitate a second when it came to pulling the trigger.

  The sheer force of the gunshot left me reeling, and it hadn’t even hit me.

  I had dropped to a crouch as I stepped outside, leaving most of the bugs where they were above me. Some had fallen down, but the overall structure had remained more or less stable, each of the bugs gripping one another and spreading out enough to fill in the gap of the vacated head and chest area.

  From what my bugs had experienced, I knew the shot had passed only inches above my head, around the center of my chest. The swarm down where I crouched was denser, to support the structure above them, so I couldn’t see through them as easily. I could only wait with my breath held, hope that the bugs offered me enough cover to hide my real self.

  “The fuck?” Tom spoke. I moved the bugs in front of my eyes so I could get a partial look at him, and saw him backing away, gun still raised.

  I’d borrowed a trick from Grue, and figured it only made sense to borrow one from Tattletale, too.

  When I spoke, I hissed the words, and at the same time, I had every bug in the swarm make noise: buzzing, chirping and droning in time with my words, doing everything I could to sound less human. “Guns are not going to work when my body is like this.”

  Putting my hands on the ground, bringing the upright mass of bugs with me, I crawled forward a step. I saw almost everyone in their group move away. Only the man with the bottles remained where he was, and he used one outstretched arm to keep Tom from retreating as well.

  My ploy was working. As Tattletale had done with Glory Girl and Panacea, then again with Bakuda, I could sell the idea I had powers I didn’t to mislead and misdirect.

  “Shoot, boy!” The man tightened his grip Tom’s shoulder.

  The teenager obeyed, firing thrice more into the swarm, aiming too high to hit me. Two more shots struck where my chest would have been. The third passed through my fake ‘head’.

  Tom, his eyes wide in alarm, decided to change targets. He swung his arm to my right to point his handgun at Bitch.

  I lunged forward, drawing the knife and swinging it in one motion. I stabbed Tom in the thigh, as Bitch simultaneously evaded to one side. Through a combination of my attack, Tom having to adjust his aim and Bitch’s movements, the shot went astray.

  As Tom fell over, I collapsed the swarm on top of him. Avoiding touching him directly, I pulled the gun from his hand, retrieved my knife, and stabbed the point of the knife down on his palm to eliminate any possibility of him retaliating or grabbing for his weapon.

  On an impulse, I drew the knife across his forehead. According to Brian, cuts to the forehead were rarely serious, but they bled enough to look like they were. It was a fact that people that staged fights often played up, and a technique boxers used to blind their opponents with blood in the eyes.

  I left some of my bugs on and around Tom as I moved away from him. He screamed frantically and struggled to crawl away.

  It was more brutal an approach than I might have liked, but as I interpreted it, any effect I generated by injuring him like this, would hopefully prevent others from joining the fight, and would lead to less people getting hurt in the long run. I didn’t like Kaiser’s followers, I had zero respect for them, but I didn’t want to see them torn apart by Bitch’s dogs.

  “This territory is ours,” Bitch growled at them, as people backed away. Brutus, Judas and Angelica were larger now, their skin split with bloody spikes of bone sticking out of the gaps. “Leave.”

  “Kaiser will hear about this!” the bottle man shouted.

  “Leave!” Bitch shouted.

  Tom, still mindless with pain and fear, jumped at that command. He tried to pull himself to his feet and failed, falling to the ground again with a ragged scream. When he reached out, imploring his friends for help, the skin of his hands and face were almost completely covered in bugs and blood. It did a lot to help spook the rest into a retreat. Most of them fled.

  The bottle man cautiously moved forward to Tom’s side. I didn’t move from where I stood/crouched as he bent down to help Tom stand and limp away.

  “Fuck,” Bitch muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I hope I didn’t do anything wrong by stepping in.”

  She shook her head.

  “I mean, maybe if I hadn’t come out, it wouldn’t have gotten violent.”

  “He was working up the courage to shoot me,” she spoke. “It’s fine.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, they’re going to come again. Maybe soon. Depending on what they say or who they complain to, there might be people with powers the next time around.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “I know this is your space, I think it’s perfect, but maybe you should consider moving somewhere-”

  She gave me a hard look. “Do you want to get hit today?”

  I shut my mouth.

  “I’m going inside to pick up the shit. You can help, or you can go back. Doesn’t matter to me.”

  I looked over my shoulder in the direction the skinheads had retreated.

  “I’ll help,” I decided aloud. “I said I would, and you might need backup if they decide to come back in force.” Besides, I’
d texted Brian to come, and he’d need a proper recap of what had gone on.

  She only whistled twice for her dogs to follow her back inside, glancing back to see they were still following. She looked at me, and I wasn’t entirely sure, but I thought maybe she didn’t look as angry as she usually did.

  7.04

  Brian arrived as Bitch and I were trudging through the field with shovels and trash bags in hand. Not the image I wanted him to get of me, but I was glad to see him nonetheless.

  I’d rinsed off using the tap at the dog’s water trough, but I was still covered in dirty paw prints, grass stains, and my skin still itched with the feeling of bugs crawling on me. I had little doubt that with my wet hair and the state of my clothes, that I looked pretty damn grungy.

  “There’s bullet holes in the front door,” Brian spoke from the other side of the chain link fence, raising his voice to be heard over the torrent of barks. He was wearing his costume and helmet, but had the visor flipped up and he wasn’t shrouded in his darkness. From a distance, he’d look like some guy in motorcycle gear.

  “Quiet,” Bitch ordered, and the dogs fell silent. Seeing what the other dogs were doing, the few who hadn’t learned the command stopped after one or two more barks as well.

  “Yeah, they fired off their guns a few times,” I told him.

  “And you’re still here,” he said, in mild disbelief.

  “My call,” Bitch told him.

  “It’s a bad call,” he admonished her.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  Brian folded his arms. “Is your pride or stubbornness worth getting those dogs hurt?”

  She scowled and looked down at the dogs.

  “The thing they said about the hotdogs,” I spoke, quiet, “About poisoning your dogs. You couldn’t stop them unless you were here twenty-four seven, and maybe not even then.”

  “It’s cowardly,” Bitch spat the words.

  “They’re cowards,” I told her. “Pretty much the definition of anyone who joins a hate group. But even if they did take a more direct approach, would you be able to handle it? Could you deal if twenty people showed up with guns? Or if Night and Fog dropped by at three in the morning, when it was just you and these guys?”

  “I can handle myself.”

  I sighed a little and planted my shovel in the ground. I had to think of a way to convince her. If I lost my patience in the face of her stubbornness, she would win the argument, and we would all lose.

  “I know. But isn’t it better to rely on us? To actually handle this instead of going it alone, hiding and letting those fuckers have the power?”

  “I’m not hiding,” she gave me an angry look. “I’m protecting-”

  Brian interrupted her, “Protecting your dogs would mean taking them somewhere safe.”

  She shook her head violently. “No. I do that, the fuckers win.“

  “I’ve been there,” I told her. “Really, I know what you mean. But our number one priority is keeping you and those dogs safe. Once we’ve handled that, we can focus on dealing with any threats.”

  She drummed her fingers against her thigh, looking back toward the building.

  “We are going to deal with them?” she made the question a challenge.

  “Yes,” Brian spoke. “I don’t like that these guys are moving into this area. I don’t like that they’d go so far as to attack a member of our group. If we don’t do something to respond soon, it’s going to hurt our rep. We need reputation, it protects us, gives people reason to think twice before they fuck with us.”

  Bitch nodded. “Okay.”

  Brian quirked an eyebrow, “Okay what?”

  “I’ll go, and the dogs come with.”

  He smiled, “Good. I don’t think I can hop this fence without getting on the bad side of those dogs, so I’m going to meet you around at the front door. I’ll call Coil on the way”

  “Alright,” I said. As he turned to leave, I raised my hand in the lamest little goodbye wave ever. Even though I was pretty sure he didn’t see it, I was left mentally kicking myself for doing it.

  I glanced at Bitch, who was giving me a peculiar look.

  “What?” I asked her, feeling painfully self conscious.

  “You like him.”

  “N-,” I started. Before I went on to protest, I had to stop myself. Bitch would appreciate straightforwardness and honesty more than anything else. I wasn’t sure I could afford to come across as dishonest or two faced, with her. “…Yeah. I do.”

  She turned to head back inside. A horrible thought struck me at that moment.

  “Do… do you like him?” I asked her.

  She turned her head to give me an angry look, one I couldn’t read in the slightest.

  “Because if you do,” I hurried to add, as I started to walk after her, “Hey, you were here first. I’ll back off and keep my mouth shut if you want to make a move.”

  There were about five seconds where she was very quiet. My pulse pounded in my throat. Why did I care so much about this?

  “You should offer to sleep with him.”

  “I-uh, what?” I stammered. Relief mixed with embarrassment, and the abrupt change of topic left me struggling to get my thoughts in order.

  “It’s what guys want. Tell him you’re available if he ever wants to fuck. He’ll accept right away, or he’ll start thinking about you as a possibility and he’ll take you up on it later.”

  “That’s- It’s more complicated than that.”

  “It’s complicated because people make it complicated. Just cut the bullshit and go for it.”

  “I don’t think you’re wrong about there needing to be less expectations and rules and rituals around dating, bullshit, as you put it, but I don’t think I can do what you’re suggesting.”

  “Whatever.”

  I realized, belatedly, that she’d actually offered me advice. As… I struggled to find the word. As misdirected as her suggestion might have been, especially with Brian, it was probably the most blatant gesture of goodwill I had seen from her, next to her telling Armsmaster that she thought I could kick his ass.

  “Thank you, though,” I told her. “I’ll, uh, I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Don’t care if you do.”

  We crossed the building’s interior and Bitch unlocked the door to let Brian inside. For a second, I thought her bluntness would lead to her telling Brian outright that I liked him, but it wasn’t the case. She was more focused on keeping the more unruly dogs from slipping outside and stopping them from barking at the new visitor than on our discussion.

  “I can’t get hold of Coil,” Brian informed us.

  “I couldn’t get Lisa or Alec, before,” I replied. “You think something’s up?”

  He nodded, “Maybe. You stay here with Rachel. I’m going to go check on the others.”

  “No,” Bitch spoke. “I don’t need babysitting, and I’m getting annoyed being badgered by you two. Taylor goes with you. I’m going to stay here and pack up.”

  “Not a good idea,” Brian said, with a shake of his head, “If you get attacked in the meantime-”

  “-I have Brutus, Judas and Angelica. I managed on my own for years, dealt with people tougher than those fuckers. If there’s trouble, I run.”

  “And if they take one of your dogs hostage?” I asked her. “One of the ones you can’t use your power on, yet?”

  A dark look passed over her face as she considered that. “Then I run… and I get revenge another day, on my terms.”

  Brian tapped his foot for a few seconds. “Okay. If there’s trouble, it’ll be good to have Taylor at my back. If and when I get hold of Coil, I’m going to see about getting you some trucks, and people to drive them. In the meantime, stay alert, and don’t get yourself killed.”

  Bitch scowled, but she nodded.

  “Taylor, we should go. The sooner we check on Lisa and Alec, the better I’ll feel,” he was already moving as he finished talking.

  The moment we were out o
f earshot, he pulled off his helmet, tucking it under one arm, and asked me, “What happened?”

  I told him, explaining everything after the point Bitch and I heard the ruckus the bottle man and his gang were causing.

  “Funny that it’s Kaiser that’s having trouble controlling his people,” Brian mused, when I was done.

  I wondered if he was still sore over what Kaiser had said at the meeting.

  “Coil upped the pressure the moment the truce against the ABB was broken. I would be surprised if Kaiser didn’t have his hands full with that,” I replied.

  “You’re defending him?”

  It wasn’t often that I felt acutely aware of the difference in our skin colors, but being asked if I was making excuses for the white supremacist supervillain was one of those moments.

  “I don’t want to underestimate him, is all,” I said.

  Brian sighed, “Yeah. Maybe you’re right. But Kaiser was willing to demand restitution for the attack on his dogfighting ring, and I’m more than willing to do the same for this attack from his skinheads, if it comes down to it.”

  “Both events having something substantial to do with Bitch,” I noted.

  “I’m aware of that fact,” he told me, frowning. “She’s useful, she’s a credit to the team, but she comes with some problems. We’ve dealt with it in the past, we’ll deal with it in the future.”

  “Right.”

  “How was she? Any fights?”

  “Nothing serious. No, it was actually kind of nice. I might even do it again, if she let me.”

  “Really,” he replied, skepticism clear in his tone.

  “Really.”

  “What changed?”

  “I’m figuring her out, I think. How she operates, how she thinks.”

  “I’ve spent ten months on the same team with her, and I haven’t even come close to getting how she thinks. I can usually keep her from going too far or hurting someone, keep her mostly in line and get her to follow directions, but I haven’t had a conversation with her yet that didn’t make me want to bang my head against a wall.”

  “That might be the problem. You’re in charge, she looks up to you, respects you, but…” I paused. How could I word this without getting into the particulars of her mode of thinking? “…But you’re something of an authority figure in our group, and her personality demands she tests authority. Especially when she’s insecure.”