“Use it!” the mayor threatened me with a motion of the gun.
“We both know you can’t use that. I’m the only one who can save Rory.”
He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than me, “There’ll be instructions. There’ll-”
“And if I break the needle in my death throes? Or if I drop it and you can’t find it in time to read the instructions and deliver it? Or if a stray shell fragment hits the needle?”
The mayor’s voice was a roar. It was as if he could will me to act by sheer emotion and volume. ”He’s not moving! He’s dying!”
“I know.”
Seconds passed.
How long can I wait until I break?
The gun clattered to the grass, the mayor dropping to his knees. His voice was hollow. ”I’ll give you what you want. Anything.”
I didn’t waste a second in stepping to Triumph’s side. I tilted his head to establish the airway, swept my fingers and bugs through to clear away the worst of the blockages and mucus and then pulled his pants down. I stabbed him in the thigh with the pen.
I couldn’t afford to stay. I couldn’t be the one to administer the ongoing care Triumph needed. Coil was still after me, the reinforcements were coming, and I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to leave if I stayed much longer.
“Do you know how to give CPR?” I asked.
“No. But my wife-”
“Bring her here. Hurry.”
He practically crawled on all fours in his hurry to get up the stairs and up to where his wife waited in the closet.
“Sorry,” I murmured to Triumph. ”I didn’t want this to go this far.”
He wheezed, a strangled squeal.
“Yeah,” I told him. ”I know.”
The older woman bent over her son and began administering CPR. I watched a few seconds to ensure she was doing everything right. I threw a second EpiPen to the mayor. ”In fifteen minutes, if the paramedics aren’t here yet, use that.”
His hands were shaking so violently I was momentarily worried he’d break it.
“Washington,” I told him. ”The city survives.”
He nodded. There were tears in his eyes, this stubborn man who’d talked so casually with the supervillains who had invaded his home and threatened his family, who’d tried to take me on with a shotgun.
I turned to walk away, my swarm-decoys moving in the same direction. Before he could think to go back for the shotgun and shoot me in the back, I had a swarm gathered around me, hiding me from view.
15.10
I passed the invisible boundary between the neatly manicured lawn of the mayor’s expansive backyard to the tall grass at the glade’s edge. My hands were shaking and my breathing was heavy. I hadn’t done anything more strenuous in the past few minutes than talking to the mayor and walking at a good pace, but my body was reacting like I’d just sprinted halfway across the mayor’s property.
I put a hand on a tree as I walked, as if it could steady me and keep me from falling. I wasn’t in any danger of falling that I was aware of, but it was reassuring nonetheless.
Damn him. How big was his property? And he could still afford to hire someone to cut his grass? Eat a nice dinner on a huge wooden table, complete with courses? Blithely ignoring what was going on in the rest of the city with his superhero son and superheroine date?
No, try as I might, I couldn’t bring myself to get angry. Couldn’t blame him for what I’d done.
I’d deliberately let someone come within seconds of dying, and he hadn’t been a monster, like Lung or the Slaughterhouse Nine. He hadn’t even necessarily been a bad person. If I’d waited just ten or twenty seconds longer, he might have stopped breathing. CPR would be that much more difficult with a closed airway, and he could have died or suffered brain damage while they attempted to revive him.
Of course, my first aid knowledge wasn’t all that recent or complete.
I let go of the tree, adjusted my sling and moved on. Drawing my cell phone from the armor at my back, I made a call. ”Cranston?”
“What can I do for you, Skitter?”
My voice sounded too calm for how my body seemed to be reacting. ”Need an ambulance to the mayor’s residence, backyard. There’s a young man having breathing difficulties. Can you use untraceable channels to get in touch with emergency services?”
“I’ll do that. Anything else?”
“Tell Coil the job’s done.”
“The second this phone call is over.”
I hung up.
Triumph’s family would probably do that anyways, but it made me feel a little better.
I couldn’t afford to dwell. I headed for Genesis, stalling her movements by signaling her with my bugs. I wrote out a message: ‘Job done. Trickster hurt. Need help taking him to Coil.’
I directed her to me with my bugs, drawing arrows in the air. A minute or two passed before she caught up.
Genesis had decided on a form that was an overlarge woman’s face carved out of bone, surrounded by long, thin, branching tentacles. She would have come up with that as a counter for Triumph and either Prism or Ursa Aurora; something that could take a heavy hit, either from a bear made of forcefields or Triumph’s shouts and punches. It would also be pretty effective against Prism for the same reasons I was: Multitasking and the ability to handle multiple foes at once.
“Where’s Trickster?” she asked.
I brought him down from above the treeline, unconscious and strapped to Atlas’ back. ”I can’t carry him all the way back. It’s too far, and it’ll be too slow. Atlas is leashed to me by my maximum range.”
And as long as I’m on foot, I’m vulnerable to any attacks from Coil or Prism’s reinforcements.
“You want me to carry you?”
I shook my head. ”I want you to carry him. Flying Atlas is hard enough as it is without an uneven weight on top of him, and if Trickster wakes up and starts moving, he’s going to fall.”
“Fine. Damn it. Making a new body’s slow when I’m this far from myself.”
“Can you make it at the far end of this glade? I can jog there by the time you’re done, and I’ll bring Trickster.”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she began breaking down into a gelatinous, blurry mess. Her power was like mine, I supposed. It took time to prepare. I had to get my bugs to the battlefield, she had to put herself together.
I checked Trickster was securely in place, adjusted my sling so my arm wouldn’t bounce too much and then hurried for the meeting place. Atlas followed, flying just above the treeline.
It was times like this that I felt less normal, less human. It was dark, the foliage overhead dense, branches blocked my way and the ground was riddled with roots, stones and uneven footing. It barely mattered. My bugs flowed ahead of me to check surfaces, clinging to branches and carpeting the ground. I passed through the trees as though I’d spent my life among them, memorizing where everything was. I extended my foot just a bit further to accommodate the slope ahead of me, ducked a branch with wickedly pointed tips and found a handhold on another branch to help myself hop over a spot where water had pooled.
I liked running. For months, I’d used running as a way to forget about whatever was plaguing me. Before, it had been the bullying. Then it had been the pressures of dealing with the Undersiders, my undercover ruse. Separating from my dad. Dinah. The fallout from the Endbringer attack. Coil.
The times I hadn’t run, I’d felt like I was losing my mind. Did correlation equal causation, there? Or was it just that the moments I was unable to run were the same moments I was under the most stress? When the Slaughterhouse Nine had been in town, when I’d been living in the shelters after Leviathan hit the city, before I rejoined the Undersiders?
Either way, it was good to break free of my thoughts on Triumph and what I’d done to him. I could focus on breathing, on putting each foot exactly where it needed to be, keeping my balance and letting my subconscious guide me through the woods.
> I felt vaguely disappointed when I reached the point where the small forest ended and the roads began. One of the busiest streets in Brockton Bay was desolate, a lone car cutting a path through the shallow water as it headed away from the city. I stayed in the shadow of the trees until it was well out of sight. I didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to step back into the city and face everything that waited for me there. The threats on my life from an employer who divided and pruned realities was only a small part of that.
I would have left, if I could afford to. If Dinah and my people could afford for me to.
My bugs found Genesis, and even with the indirect route I’d taken, I reached her before she was fully formed. She looked like a bison with wings, but her back had a bowl-shaped depression, and she had stubby little legs and antennae. Since she didn’t have the means, I was left to try to ease Trickster into the basin. I could see why she did it, cradling him and ensuring he couldn’t fall, but it was still dangerous and tricky to move him with just the one arm. I wondered if she’d seen the sling.
We took off, and Atlas proved faster than she was. She had to ride the air currents and she was heavier overall. I scouted forward some in case we crossed paths with Legend or any other heroes.
I paused on one rooftop while I waited for her to catch up again. I drew my cell phone and called Tattletale this time.
“Skitter?” She answered on the first ring.
“Job’s done. Already told Coil. Triumph was there, along with Prism. They hurt Trickster, took Genesis out of action. I stopped them and finished the job, got the mayor to agree to the terms we wanted.”
“Are you still there? At the mayor’s place?”
“No. Just left.”
There was a pause.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she told me.
“What doesn’t?”
“We’re clear to talk, no bugs, I’m ninety-nine percent sure. So listen, if Coil wanted to assassinate you, that’d be his chance. Once you leave the mayor’s property, that’s it. He doesn’t know where you’re going.”
“Trickster got hurt,” I told her. ”Maybe he was supposed to do it?”
“Maybe,” she admitted, “But that still feels wrong. Why wouldn’t Coil have a backup plan?”
“Or maybe Dinah’s power is working, and he’s got some bigger plan in mind?”
“I’m at his base right now. It doesn’t fit with his movements. He’s not really visiting her.”
I shivered. Visiting her, dosing her with drugs, interrogating her for answers about his grand plan… I hated the images that popped into my mind when I thought about Dinah in captivity.
“Listen,” she said, “I’m going to try to find out more. I’ll call you back.”
“I don’t like that you’re there without backup. You said he might want to get rid of you too.”
“I’ll know if he does.”
“Like you knew he’d try to kill me?”
Another pause.
“I’ll call you later,” she said.
The line went dead.
I reluctantly put my phone away. I had a hollow feeling in the center of my chest. A huge part of me wanted to call Grue, but I couldn’t convince myself that it was really what I was aching for. I might have anyways, but I wasn’t sure what I would have said. Would I have asked for a hug, another cuddle? For advice, tactical suggestions? For reassurances?
I wouldn’t have said the thought had ever explicitly crossed my mind, but somehow I’d always assumed that I’d know what to do when I got into a relationship. I didn’t want this thing to be designated the nice memory that we avoided mentioning until things had returned to the old status quo.
But I wasn’t sure he was the person I wanted to reach out to. The people in my territory? Was I seeking some validation there, some cheers, smiles, hugs and other assurances that I was really on the right track, doing the right things?
I couldn’t be sure.
I met with Genesis in the air, flying just beneath her so our heads were as close to one another as possible. ”Is he okay?”
“He was awake a second, then went under again,” she said, “Might be a good thing. He’s hurting.”
“Probably. Why? Why did he pick a fight like that?”
“It’s how he operates. I’m not saying this is usual, or that this wasn’t an extreme case, but… it’s always how he dealt with things, big or small. The worse things get, the more stubborn and cocky he gets in going up against them. It worked when we were just messing around together, just playing around. But we were never suited to be… I dunno, a family?”
“A family?”
“We’ve spent two years together, with just each other. I don’t know what you could call us, if not that.”
“Why don’t you quit? Split up? Is it Noelle?”
“She’s only half of it,” Genesis said. She didn’t volunteer anything more.
We flew in silence for a few long seconds.
“Don’t blame him, okay? He has his way of handling stuff, but those methods don’t scale up so well when we’re dealing with stuff this screwed up.”
“Things are getting better. The Nine are gone, we’re cleaning up the city, our enemies are getting driven out of Brockton Bay.”
“Better for you, maybe, but those are your priorities.”
I didn’t respond, wasn’t sure how to.
“Just… don’t blame him. I’m sorry things got so bad tonight.”
“Okay,” I said. I hadn’t meant to get caught up in a conversation. I saw a chance to say what I wanted to, “Are you good with going to Coil’s on your own?”
She looked surprised.
It was too dangerous to meet with Coil right now. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I wasn’t willing to walk into the lion’s den. Another day, under different circumstances, with backup? Maybe. But not now.
“I’m going to head back to my territory,” I lied.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Okay. Good luck? Coil can call me if he needs anything.”
“Alright.”
I veered off to head north, leaving Genesis to continue in the direction of Coil’s headquarters.
As Tattletale had suggested, the window of opportunity had passed. If I returned to my territory, would I be walking into a trap? The same could be true if I went to any familiar place. Coil had enough soldiers to have one lying in wait in any given area.
On the other hand, if I broke pattern and stayed somewhere off his radar, I’d be letting him know I was suspicious. That might be all he needed to decide to step up his plans and go all-out.
I came to a decision, all my disparate thoughts and concerns snapping together into one simple, inelegant solution.
Too dangerous to go to my territory. I set Atlas down on top of the tallest building in the area, climbed off and sent my bugs into my territory instead. They flowed into my lair as a mass. I left some in the appropriate terrariums to restock my supply of some of the rarer spiders and larger beetles. The rest passed through the upper floors of my lair and retrieved the necessities. They returned, surrounding Atlas as a cloud.
Once Atlas had landed beside me, I began getting everything in order. Atlas held my rain boots in his front claws and carried my backpack and some of the clothes I’d had him pack on his back. Using my hand, I swatted other items through the backpack’s opening as my bugs brought them into position – underwear, socks, wallet.
I ran one hand over Atlas’ rough exterior. ”What am I going to do with you?”
Atlas didn’t have the instincts to operate on his own. He was an entirely unique creation, designed from scratch with no real blueprint or model for behavior. He couldn’t move, couldn’t eat and couldn’t defend himself if I wasn’t in range to control him.
I’d have to figure something out. Some place I could stick him so I could keep him close.
I picked out what I wanted to wear, checked there wasn’t anyone nearby and changed on the rooftop. I had to tak
e off the sling to free my arm, which maybe wasn’t the best idea, but I was gentle with my shoulder as I worked my way into a tank top.
When I was changed, I fixed my sling, I packed my stuff in my bag and bound my costume loosely in silk to keep it compact and tied that package loosely to Atlas’ back. I wouldn’t be going anywhere without him, and wherever I was, he could probably bring my costume to me faster than I could access whatever hiding place I’d chosen.
I double-checked there wasn’t anyone watching, stepped up onto Atlas’ back and stayed standing as he lowered us to the street. I skipped down with a bit of a splash, slung the backpack over my good shoulder and started walking.
Things were getting better. The flooding was more under control, and less streets were sitting beneath inches of water. The work my people had done in our district had helped, here. We were downhill, and the efforts in clearing out the storm drains and dismantling the trash and rubble that was trapping water in certain areas had freed the water to flow down towards the beaches.
Still, that wasn’t saying a whole lot. There were too many areas where it was dangerous to walk without proper boots, due to the glass and the wooden boards with nails in them. Piles of trash sat everywhere, with nobody to clear them away. When people had run out of plastic bags, they began throwing the trash in cardboard boxes or plastic totes. When those had proved too short in supply, they’d started throwing debris and litter wherever they pleased; out windows and into alleyways. I could see rats in the spaces between some houses, not even shy about being out in plain view while I walked by with my oversized rain boots.
Plant life was alternately dying and flourishing, with trees and lawns drowned and algae and moss blooming. Weeds were cautiously emerging wherever there was ground to take root.
It was funny how nature reclaimed this world in its own way. It was silly to say humans were destroying the environment; we were simply changing it. Nature would persevere until the world was a barren wasteland. Whatever apocalypse Jack was supposed to set in motion, I suspected Jack was right in what he’d said to Bonesaw. Something would undoubtedly survive, and this sort of thing would likely happen across the world, starting in the cracks, spreading out, only to overwhelm and bury the ruins of civilization.
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