Worm

by John Mccrae Wildbow

  “Okay.”

  “Put up with Senegal. Hell, if you’re uncomfortable around him, use it. Not everyone that’s at the Merchant’s party will be a willing participant. We’ll fit in more if you act skeeved out by him.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and brushed at my shoulders, as if it could shake the feeling of Senegal’s arm resting on me. “I don’t like showing weakness to a person like that.” To a bully.

  “Play along, and I’ll make sure you never see him again after tonight. We just need him for this one errand. He’s got that look that can scare people, without being too obvious about it. Between him and Jaw, we actually kind of look like Merchants.”

  “Okay,” I spoke, jamming my hands into my pockets.

  “Tell me about your territory grab?”

  I did, going into detail about the play I’d made, dealing with the Merchant who had tried to cut me, encountering Battery, then returning to my lair to fend off my enemies from a safe vantage point.

  “…Problem is my range only extends eight hundred feet or so around me. My territory’s larger than that, which means I can only cover part of my territory at a time. It bugs me, because I know I can reach further, I’ve had times where I could.”

  “Right. I remember you asking about that, but I was distracted.”

  “Any ideas?”

  “One theory, and there’s a good bit and a bad bit to it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Just going by how my own power fluctuates, hearing what you’re saying about yours? You got a range boost that day of the hearing, right? When you went to your school to talk about the bullies, and everything fell apart?”

  “Right,” I said. “And the day Leviathan came. It wasn’t just range. The bugs were responding just a bit faster. Maybe a tenth of a second faster, but yeah.”

  “Ok. Here’s my theory then. I think your power’s strongest when you’re closest to the situation where you had your trigger event.”

  “What?”

  “Honestly, I’m highly suspicious that it’s true for any cape out there. Whenever you’re in the same kind of mindset or same sort of physical situation you were in when you got your powers, your powers get stronger. The bad news is that you probably can’t leverage that to your advantage. Your powers would operate off of hopelessness and frustration, because that’s what drove you to get your powers in the first place.”

  Fuck. It fit, more or less.

  “The really scary part is that it might be doing us a disservice, because it works like a Pavlovian trigger. Like how the dog who hears the bell ringing every time he gets food starts to drool when he hears the bell, this might be subtly urging us back into ugly, violent or dangerous situations with the benefits of having our powers temporarily boosted.”

  I wasn’t sure I liked the implications of that. “Then what’s the good news?”

  “It’s kind of like a defense mechanism. The worse a situation gets, the stronger you’ll get. It’s probably happened before, to small degrees, but you haven’t noticed it.”

  “You said you saw evidence of it in your own powers? Can I ask?”

  Lisa looked back over her shoulder, as if checking nobody was following us. She sighed.

  “I don’t want to press,” I hurried to tell her.

  “Another time?” she asked. “I don’t want to get into a bad headspace just before we do this thing, tonight.”

  “That’s fine,” I answered her. “Really, you don’t have to say.”

  “I said no more secrets, didn’t I? Just give me time to figure out how to explain.”

  “Of course.”

  She gave me a one-armed hug.

  I realized where we were going well before we got there. Even hearing the music and knowing who the Merchants were, I was still shocked to see it.

  Weymouth shopping center, the mall I’d gone to all my life, was now a rallying point for Merchants. Hundreds of them, it looked like, all gathered together for one grand, debauched festival.

  Half of the Merchants I could see wore a fresh band around their wrists, or hanging from their clothing, like badges of honor.

  Lisa had noticed it too. “Yellow bands were for a test of courage, black for near death experience. The red ones they’re handing out at the door?”

  “Blood?” I guessed.

  “Bloodshed, yeah. Something ugly’s going to happen tonight.”

  11.05

  Leviathan’s attack and the waves had done a huge amount of damage to the shopping center, and it seemed like the Merchants had interrupted the efforts to shore it up and rebuild. Construction equipment had been left behind and bore the decorations of the same hooligans that had hotwired and taken them for their own use. The bulldozer closest to me had been spray painted in hues of purple, blue and red, and it had bras, children’s toys and defaced flags strung around it, among other things. Clothes racks from one of the clothing stores in the mall had been tied crudely to the scoop and the jutting parts had been clubbed into rough points, as if they thought they could use the vehicle to run into people and impale them.

  Trash cans had been dragged into place around the mall, and burned with an acrid smell of melted plastic and rancid meat. Countless Merchants had gathered, some perching on piles of trash or rubble as lookouts, and it seemed like everyone was striving to be heard over the music that blared from the countless speakers that were set up in and around the mall. Not every set of speakers was playing the same music, or even the same kinds of music. The blend of a half-dozen techno, dance and rap tracks devolved into a single grating, uneven noise.

  Senegal put his hand on my shoulder again, and I didn’t stop him. As a group, we approached the side of the building where two larger guys were standing guard. They noted the elastic bands that Lisa and Minor wore, handed each a red elastic, and then waved them through.

  “They’re with us,” Lisa spoke, gesturing towards the rest of us. The guy gave Senegal and I the go ahead to pass, and I took the offered rubber band and pulled it around my wrist. The second we were clear, I brushed Senegal’s hand from my shoulder. He smirked at me in response.

  “No faggots,” the other man spoke.

  We looked back and I saw Jaw and Brooks with a small crowd around them.

  Jaw looked at Lisa, and she gave a discreet hand signal, making a fist and tapping her leg twice.

  A moment later, Jaw was stepping in close and slamming the heel of his hand into the doorman’s nose. He fell roughly on a pile of rubble, and his ‘friend’ who’d been guarding the door with him stepped forward. Jaw caught the man’s hand and pulled him in close, smashing his skull into the man’s nose. As the man fell, blood gushing from his nose, Jaw straightened, cracking his knuckles.

  “Anyone else want to complain?” Jaw asked.

  Nobody did. I was surprised at how quickly people backed off and went back to whatever they’d been doing before.

  Jaw collected two red elastics, put a hand on the small of Brooks’ back and nudged him inside.

  The interior was so crowded we could barely navigate, and it was rank with the sweet and sour smells of sweat and garbage that had just started to reek. Body lice had found hosts with a full fifth of the people here, and more were spreading to new hosts in the shoulder to shoulder press of the crowd. The tide of bodies around us might have crushed us if our bodyguards weren’t clearing the way. Senegal and Minor simply pushed through the crowd with enough force that some fell over, while Jaw and Brooks followed our group. Nobody complained too loudly, and from the way others took it in stride, it seemed this was the norm. Here, I was coming to understand, might made right.

  Judging by the packs of people, ‘might’ wasn’t necessarily physical strength. Those who had the force of numbers at their backs or the better weapons could do what they wanted. If they didn’t have numbers, sheer physical strength or weaponry that put them one step above the other guys? They became victims instead.

  “Want to buy a lady? Or maybe a sir?”
one of the vendors leered at Minor. A group of men and women were gathered in a ‘stall’ behind him, watched by another Merchant. Were they whores or slaves? I wasn’t sure I wanted to think too long about it.

  “No,” Minor answered. “Have a girl.”

  “Get a second! Or do you want something else? Got bullets, got some treats. Booze? Bad? K? Decadence? Madman? Nose powder?”

  “Not interested,” Minor answered.

  “Not. Interested.” The Merchant rubbed his chin, looking skeptical, “Right.”

  “Wait,” Lisa grinned. “Decadence sounds good. How much?”

  “Twenty per.”

  “Bullshit,” she replied. “Not even if it was pure, which it probably isn’t. Eight bucks.”

  “Ah, we have an expert here, do we? Can’t blame me for trying. You have to understand, it’s hard to get product with things the way they are. Ten.”

  “Eight.”

  He looked around, stared at her for a few seconds, then conceded, “Eight.”

  “For me and two of my buddies here. That’s twenty-four bucks?”

  The man nodded eagerly, “Twenty-four.”

  She forked over a ten and a twenty and collected her change and three pills. She turned to me, “Open up. It’s ecstasy.”

  “I dunno,” I answered her, feeling legitimately nervous. I didn’t want to refuse her outright and blow our cover, but I definitely didn’t want to get high. I was uncomfortable enough with the idea to begin with, but doing it here, in this kind of chaos?

  “Trust me,” she told me.

  Obediently, I opened my mouth. She pressed one small pill down on my tongue. I closed my mouth. She turned to Brooks and gave him one as well.

  As our bodyguards led us through the crowd, she leaned over until our heads were touching, “Sugar pills. A little sleight of hand on my part. Just for appearances. Don’t stress.”

  “Could’ve fucking told me,” I hissed. I wasn’t sure if she could hear me over the pounding music, but if anyone could fill in the blanks in what I’d said, it would be her.

  More people were pushing product and stolen goods at the edges of the mall, some pimped others or prostituted themselves, while yet others were scrounging through the stores and then offering their finds for cash or barter. The roof at the center of the mall had collapsed and what remained was shored up, but there was a gaping hole that was open to the darkening sky. Beneath that hole, the party was already underway. People were dancing, fighting, clustering in groups or chanting. Sometimes two or three at a time.

  As we found some breathing room, Lisa gathered the group together. I withdrew the picture, “We’re looking for this guy.”

  Nobody disagreed or debated the point, not even Brooks. Senegal had dropped the smirk and was all business as he remained at my right shoulder, tall enough to see over the top of the gathered people. On the far end of our group, Minor did much the same thing. That left Lisa and I between them. Brooks and Jaw left to go looking on their own.

  In front of us, someone got tackled to the ground. His attacker began pounding at his face, while the people around them cheered. We detoured around that group, which brought us face to face with an exhibition.

  The scene was set at the front of a woman’s clothing shop, and the window had been shattered. Where the mannequins stood in the display window, there were three women and a girl. The women were trying on their clothes, openly undressing and then dressing in whatever the throng of people around them threw their way. Their eyes had the glazed over looks of people who were on something, and their skin shone with a faint sheen of sweat. They smiled as they posed provocatively and hugged the mannequins, showing off the clothes.

  As if the clothes were what the crowd was there to see, and not the skin that was revealed while the women changed.

  The teenage girl at the far right of the stand was another story. She was dark-haired and the makeup she wore looked like it had been applied by someone who hadn’t used makeup before. She clutched the collar of her sweatshirt in both hands and stepped back as the crowd surged forward, reaching for her. Being barefoot, she couldn’t step down from the display platform without stepping onto broken glass, and any attempt at running would only lead her into the reaching mass of Merchants. If she’d taken the same drugs as the other women, fear had already sobered her up. She looked entirely alert and she looked terrified. No red band on her wrist. She wasn’t here by choice.

  Someone climbed up onto the platform, grabbing at one of the women. He wasn’t up there for two seconds before the crowd dragged him down and threw him to the ground. The people around him stomped and kicked him for his temerity.

  That was social cooperation on a really twisted level. From my interpretation, they weren’t doing it for the women, but for themselves. They all wanted the women, but if someone stepped up to take one for himself, they’d collectively beat him, for trying to take what they’d silently agreed to share by way of watching.

  That meant the teenage girl’s situation was especially grim. She couldn’t run, and if she didn’t give the crowd a show, they’d lose patience with her and treat her just as they had the other guy, or worse. If she did give them a show? With the way emotions were running high, I expected things would turn ugly right around the moment the crowd started to get bored. Exhibitionism would only buy her time.

  “Let’s go.” Lisa pulled on my arm.

  “We should help her.”

  Lisa glanced at the girl, “There’s at least a hundred people here that need help. We can’t save them all.”

  “We should help her,” I growled the words, “I won’t fucking sleep tonight if I walk away from this.”

  “You’ve got a little superhero showing through, there,” she whispered right into my ear.

  “I am going to help her, with or without you,” I hissed, “Even if that means using my powers and throwing subtlety to the winds.”

  “Okay, okay. Probably don’t have to go that far. Hold on.”

  Lisa pulled on Minor’s arm, and he bent down so she could speak in his ear.

  Minor straightened, and with one fist clenched, he made his way through the crowd, pushing people to either side, and then stepped onto the stage.

  The insults hurled his way were impossible to make out over the noise of the music and the larger crowd. He ignored them as he stepped behind the girl, caught her around the waist, and then threw her over one shoulder. She screamed.

  “I’m buying this one!” he hollered, “Whoever brought her, here’s your fucking money!”

  He revealed what was in his clenched fist – money and pills. The sugar pills Lisa had brought? He cast them into the crowd, and in that instant, the exhibition was over. The crowd tore into one another, fighting over what had fallen onto their heads and shoulders, or drifted past them onto the ground. The other women backed into the clothing store.

  As Minor plowed his way through the crowd, Lisa lunged forward. She caught the wrist of an older man, and I saw that she’d just stopped him from turning a knife on Minor.

  I moved to back her up, kicking the guy in the side of the knee. He dropped the knife and it skittered along the floor to the boundary of the crowd. I fell on top of it, covering it with my body to prevent anyone else from taking it, then grabbed it for myself at the first opportunity. Senegal helped clear the crowd out of the way so Minor had an exit route, and I stood, pointing the knife at anyone who looked like they might make a move for us. The size and muscle of our bodyguards posed too much risk for the Merchants here, with the potential rewards of getting the girl from them being far too scarce compared to the immediate rewards that were in arm’s reach. The crowd let them be and continued to scrabble for the bills and pills.

  We legged it in making distance from there, and the girl screamed and kicked the entire way. People around us laughed and hooted. I couldn’t make out everything that was said, but there were lewd comments and dirty remarks cast our way.

  I was swiftly losing fai
th in humanity. Not that I had much to spare.

  How many people had joined the Merchants after everything went to hell? One in two hundred of the people who’d declined to evacuate the city? One in a hundred? One in fifty? How many of these people had been ordinary citizens until civilization broke down? Had I passed any of these people on the street while going about my day?

  We headed into a hallway that branched off into a side entrance and bathrooms, but the rubble blocking the door and the lack of water in the bathrooms left little purpose for the area beyond being a quieter spot, away from the party. Lisa signaled, and Senegal moved to stand guard at the entrance.

  The hallway now held only Minor, Lisa, me and the rescued girl, along with two small groups of younger people. There was a couple making out at the far end of the hallway, getting hot and heavy, oblivious to their audience. Nearer to us, in the alcove that led to the out-of-order bathrooms, there was a trio of teenagers that were so plastered with drink that they couldn’t sit upright. Empty bottles were scattered around them. It was as much privacy as we’d get.

  Minor put the girl down, and she immediately shrank back, getting her feet under her as if ready to bolt.

  “You’re safe,” Lisa assured her. “We’re not doing anything to you.”

  The girl wiped at her eye with the back of one hand, smearing thick eyeshadow and eyeliner across her temple. “But-”

  “She’s right,” Minor spoke, standing, “You’re as safe as you’re gonna get for the next little while.”

  “Oh god,” the girl sobbed. She moved forward, ready to give Minor a hug, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t speak, but only turned to Lisa.

  “Don’t thank him. Thank her.” Lisa looked my way. “We wouldn’t have gone out of our way to help if she hadn’t been stubborn.”

  Before I had a chance to respond, the girl threw her arms around me, hugging me tight.

  Lisa motioned to Minor, and he headed off to join Senegal in guard duty, leaving the rest of us alone. Better, probably, if the girl’s state left her uncomfortable or spooked around guys.