Turnabout

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Turnabout Page 4

by Melissa Wong


  “Sara Raben,” he read, “Age fourteen. GPA four-point-two, CAASPP score two-thousand six-hundred and ninety-six. Extracurricular, debate team—retired. Strikes, none. Notes, Honor Roll; Valedictorian Candidate. Associated with Ryan Asteralonar, Mike Dimitriev, and Maria Vargas.”

  He leaned in and examined her photo, an odd feeling flooding through him. What she was wearing seemed to fit, along with her hair color and the style she wore it in. The more he looked at her, the stranger he began to feel. She had symmetrical features, and an iris color that bordered on unnatural for her species. She was interesting to look at, and he found himself examining her face in detail, from her soft jawline to her long, dark eyelashes.

  “Is she really a candidate, or do I simply hope that she is?” Clokua asked himself as he reread her file. Even if she didn’t end up being Red Panther, she was a great deal easier to look at than than Tana’s horrible sister!

  After reading the names at the end of her notes again, a thought occurred to him—if she was originally chasing after Green Jaguar, was it possible that he was one of the males listed in her file?

  He paused the main search and pulled up the file for the first name on the list, Ryan Asteralonar. The computer had already rejected him as a Green Jaguar candidate on its own, but the more Clokua looked at him, the more certain he became that he was on to something.

  “It has to be them,” he said, comparing the photos again. “And if so, then...”

  He brought up the files for the other two students, their portraits taking over the large center screen as he prepared to switch to an image of the other Warriors.

  “Ah, the two brats that escaped today,” Vetrina spat from behind him. Clokua froze, quelling his urge to flee. “I hope they make it worth the energy I wasted. What are you looking at them for?”

  “Vetri—” he began.

  “That’s Mistress Vetrina, you useless debris field!” she snapped.

  “Sorry, Mistress Vetrina,” he groveled, “I really need to get to Earth and assist the prince and princess soon—”

  “Enough of your incessant droning! Yes, I heard Cretora. Have you figured out who the Feline Warriors are yet?”

  Clokua glanced at the screens. She was the last person he wanted to know what he’d just discovered!

  Vetrina sauntered over to the console and picked up the crystal containing Tana, a bolt of fear flashing through him as he watched her. She must have thought he was looking at her, not the screens!

  “Are you keeping her nearby to remind yourself of the consequences of crossing me?” she asked, putting the tip of the crystal against her blackened lips. “Because if you’re keeping her in the hope of freeing her—or showing your employers what I’ve done—then I can’t allow that.”

  He swallowed hard from within his cloak. That was exactly what he had planned to do with it. Now due to his carelessness Vetrina had her again, most likely with the intent of destroying the evidence!

  “N-no, I haven’t found any concrete matches yet,” he said, hoping to turn her attention away from the crystal. “Only possibilities.”

  “You’ve had this data for several hours now—it’s unacceptable that you don’t have anything to show for it!”

  “I’ll take it with me to Earth, and continue scanning it down there.”

  “No, let’s leave the data here. I’ll look it over myself while you’re gone—but rest assured that once you return, you will continue to pore over it until you are successful. Is that clear, minion?”

  “Yes, Mistress Vetrina,” he said, eyeing the crystal, wishing he could force her to set it down.

  “Good!” she sniffed, before turning on a tall heel and walking away, the crystal still within her grasp.

  The door shut with a gasp of air, and Clokua sunk to the floor as a strange new feeling overcame him. He felt... helpless.

  He had the mental capacity to understand that he was this way by design—after all, his species’ origins were common knowledge—but this was the first time it had ever bothered him. He didn’t like it at all.

  How had he not heard Vetrina coming? Usually the ominous sound of her heels gave him ample warning that she was on her way. Had he been so caught up in his discovery that he had blocked the sound out? Now she would kill Tana, and it would be his fault!

  His digestive sac clenched at that thought, and he hugged himself to try and stop it. Maybe there was a way to sneak into her chambers and recover her. No, there was no time—Prince Criatan and Princess Cretora expected him down on the surface shortly.

  “This is all I can do for now,” he muttered, climbing to his feet and entering something into the console. He made a backup copy of the files and placed it in a hidden sector of the ship’s computer, amongst files no one would be looking at. Then he proceeded to corrupt the original files, making sure to copy them back to those small units Vetrina kept bringing the information in on. Now whenever she’d try to look through the files, there would be holes in the data—missing images, corrupted glyphs, and access errors. There was no way she’d be able to get any information on her own now!

  All he had to do was remember Red Panther’s name. Green Jaguar could be found from a simple logic leap based off information in her file, but she was the one whose image he couldn’t get out of his head.

  “Sara,” he whispered to himself as he closed each screen with a wave of his hand. “Sara Raben.”

  Chapter 4

  Lead and Follow

  “This is a nightmare!” Purple Tiger exclaimed as they surveyed the wreckage of what was once a shopping plaza. “The two of them did all this damage?”

  “Yeah, with a spear and a bow. Talk about impressive!” Green Jaguar said with a whistle.

  Blue Caracal looked around the area. Each shop was gutted, merchandise strewn across the asphalt like irregularly-shaped confetti. A plastic bag tumbled through the air and caught on a lamppost, drawing her attention as it flapped in the breeze like a crinkly flag. Beyond it, she spotted a familiar white van with the Channel Seven logo on it, the camera crew already setting up shop.

  “Aw, crap...”

  White Lion looked at her. “What?”

  “Tim Watsinson is here,” she said, pointing at the short man in the large glasses. She watched as the plastic bag broke free from its pole and slapped over his face.

  Pink Ocelot swore, pulling at the front of his suit. “Now all of Sweet Step is gonna see me wearing this!”

  “Dude, for the last time, no one knows it’s you. All they see is some random guy in pink!” Purple Tiger snapped, pointing at Blue Caracal. “She could go over there right now, pull down her top, flash the camera—and literally no one would know it was her!”

  “Why would you say that?” Blue Caracal cried, crossing her arms over her chest. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. “I wouldn’t do that!”

  “I know, but your outfit would be the easiest to do it in. You just have to pull the neckline down a bit and there ya go. Red Panther and I would have a harder time of it.”

  Behind her, Green Jaguar and Pink Ocelot were looking around, both their faces nearly as pink as Cobalt’s suit. Purple Tiger turned to see what she was looking at.

  “Quit thinking about it!” both girls yelled. Purple Tiger reached out and grabbed White Lion unexpectedly, hugging him to herself. His head fit perfectly underneath her breasts.

  “Thank god this one still thinks girls have cooties!” she said with a dramatic sigh.

  “I what now?” White Lion asked, reaching upward. She growled and shoved him away from her.

  “You’re all perverts,” she declared, brushing off the front of her uniform.

  “I just wanted your stupid heavy boobs off my head!” White Lion yelled, trying to fix his hair.

  Purple Tiger crossed her arms and silently glared at the news crew.

  “She’s crazy, right?” she heard Green Jaguar ask Pink Ocelot quietly, “I mean, it’s not wrong for teenage boys to find teenage girls attra
ctive, is it?”

  “Not if they’re the same age,” he said, “All I know is that if you’re over eighteen and a sixteen year-old sends you nudes you never asked for, it counts as child—”

  “Why do you know that?” Blue Caracal interrupted.

  “Because it happened to Mark last year,” he snapped, “It almost forced him to drop out of college.”

  She felt like the floor had fallen out from under her. Last year? They were still on speaking terms then! He hadn’t told her about something like that? But they had shared everything! “I had no idea that happened to your brother...” she said sheepishly.

  “Yeah, well, we didn’t exactly want to advertise it. Besides, it was around the time you were starting to act weird around me.”

  Green Jaguar spun him around, jabbing a finger directly into his forehead. “No one can police the thoughts you keep inside your head,” he whispered loudly.

  “You... you’re still referencing girls our own age, right?” Pink Ocelot asked, a concerned look on his face.

  “Well, yeah. Duh.”

  From the corner of her eye, Blue Caracal saw Purple Tiger smack the palm of her hand against her forehead, the sound of distant sirens echoing through the air as she did so. A new noise joined in, a faint droning that signaled a helicopter approaching their location.

  Red Panther looked upward, shielding her eyes with one hand as she tried to spot it. “You know, if we got up high enough we’d probably be able to see what direction they went.”

  “All I’m sayin’ is that eventually she’ll get a boyfriend, and he’s gonna wanna touch ‘em,” Green Jaguar said, his voice more serious than she’d ever heard him before.

  “Ideally, she’d want him to touch them too,” Pink Ocelot added. Blue Caracal shook her head and turned away from their conversation.

  “Good idea,” she said to Red Panther, leaping on to the roof of the only intact building in the whole lot.

  Everything was in ruins, with only the outer walls on a few of the shops still tentatively standing. She studied the surrounding area as the rest of the team landed beside her, noticing that the destruction continued to the northeast.

  “Since there are two of them they may have split up to cover more ground,” Pink Ocelot suggested.

  “Nah, Mike and Maria never go anywhere without each other,” Green Jaguar argued.

  “Yeah, but they’re Evil Mike and Evil Maria now,” Blue Caracal said, “And they won’t behave how you think they will.”

  “Maybe we should split up anyway so that we cover more ground,” Purple Tiger said, “After all, if one of us finds them the rest of us can just teleport to their location.”

  “Okay. In that case... Red Panther, you go north. Green Jaguar, you head east. Pink Ocelot, you’re west and Purple Tiger will go south,” Blue Caracal said, “White Lion, you stay around here in case they return—work the area up to a one mile radius. I’ll patrol the outer ring of Sweet Step to prevent them from leaving entirely.”

  “Right,” Purple Tiger said as the others nodded. They all ran off in their assigned directions, and Blue Caracal watched them go, cracking her knuckles. Since it looked like they’d been moving northeast, she’d take that path to the outer edge of the city.

  She got a running start and jumped from the roof of the shop they’d been standing on, landing on a brick wall and running along it. Ever since her first transformation, she’d wanted to try moving across the city like a comic book superhero, leaping from building to building.

  She pushed the limits of her enhanced abilities, practically soaring through the air as she used buildings, trees, electric poles, and anything else in her way as a stepping stone. The ground rushed by below, but the thought of falling didn’t faze her. She’d fallen from heights before, the Great Power’s magic seeming to ease the impact when she failed to land on her feet. She’d been flung about, slammed, and thrown by multiple monsters—a misstep here would be nothing compared to that!

  “I should’ve told them it looked like they came through here,” she grumbled, landing heavily on the roof of a convenience store. It didn’t matter—if they had come this way, Green Jaguar or Red Panther would find them before she did.

  She bounded up to the second story of a motel before swinging herself up to the rooftop. From there she had an uninterrupted view of the sun sinking low on the horizon, filling the sky with a rosy glow.

  “Looks like it’s going to be a pretty sunset tonight,” she mused, trying to catch her breath. “Lots of pink.”

  Pink, like his uniform.

  She shook her head to clear it before continuing, covering a few more miles before the trail of destruction ended. Ahead of her was a small park, the silhouettes of trees dark against the fading daylight. She bolted across the field and took refuge in the upper branches of a tree on its edge.

  “Enhanced abilities or not...” she panted, swallowing as she tried to suck air into her burning lungs, “I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.”

  She sprawled out as much as the branch allowed, resting her back against the trunk. It was only a quick break—just until she could breathe again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this winded.

  Blue Caracal heard voices and looked down through the branches as two long shadows bobbed up and down, eventually merging with the shadow of the tree.

  “...I told you not to eat all the chili back at the Tammy’s!” a female with a slight Spanish accent chided her companion.

  “But it was so good!” the male with her replied, whining, “I’ve always just wanted to eat it with a spoon, but literally pouring it into my mouth was a million times better!”

  “And then you added the cebolla—like, all of it! The whole tub they had!”

  “I like onions on my chili. And cheese. Oh man, that crappy processed cheese they use is the best!”

  “Ay, you’re supposed to put it on burgers, not in your fat mouth by itself!” she groused, “I got sick watching you eat!”

  “It goes on fries too!” he added, “Besides, you weren’t too sick to drink a ton of soda.”

  “I was thirsty, Michael! Cabrón!”

  “You’re a potty mouth, Mari!” he laughed.

  Blue Caracal froze. It was them?

  She moved to a lower limb as silently as she could while they continued to bicker. They had stopped beneath the tree, and were decked out in dark-feathered outfits just as Nina had been. It had to be them!

  Mike let out a loud burp, and Maria waved her hand in front of her face.

  “Ugh, nasty!” she complained as he laughed.

  After he stopped, he turned to her. “So, what do you wanna do now?”

  “I dunno. Take over the world, maybe?”

  He laughed again, and she smacked him upside the head.

  “No, I’m serious! We’re super strong—no one has been able to stop us so far.”

  “Boring! Wouldn’t you rather take over another burger joint? I heard a The Routine went in somewhere around here.”

  “You and your burgers!” Maria fumed, “Why do you waste all your time with other places when you know Drive-In-Drive-Out is the best one anyway?”

  “Oh my god,” Mike cried, “That is nowhere near true! You take that back!”

  “Yes, it is,” she spat.

  “I will fucking fight you Mari—it is not!”

  So they turned evil and... ransacked a fast food place? Blue Caracal straightened up as she watched them argue a bit more. Was there a The Routine near here? Her family had stopped at one on their way home from Venice Beach one time, and she remembered them being really good. Her stomach growled quietly at the thought and she covered it self-consciously with her hands. Great... now she wanted a cheeseburger!

  “Okay, I have to pee,” Evil Mike announced abruptly.

  Maria gave him a shove. “Don’t tell me that! Just do it over there or something.”

  As he wandered off into the trees, she mulled over her options. It would be the perfect
time to strike now that they had separated; if she could take one down before their partner returned, then they could overpower the other one easily. Mike was the most vulnerable at the moment, but based on their conversation it was Maria who seemed like the biggest threat. She had only one chance to strike first, and it seemed wiser to use that bonus on the stronger of the two.

  She pressed her fingers against her medallion, its smooth, rounded surface cold against them. Maybe she should wait for the others and see what they thought? It wasn’t like they’d take long to arrive.

  The corrupted girl twirled her spear and sighed, unaware that she was being watched.

  No. She was the leader, and the leader was expected to take charge. If she hesitated one second more this opportunity would be lost!

  “I found them,” she whispered as she held her necklace close to her lips, “They’re at a small park where Sycamore Drive and Sequoia Avenue meet.”

  Blue Caracal released the pendant as she sprung from her hiding place and aimed one hand at the enemy, her elemental attack already fully formed behind her.

  “Raging Stormtide!”

  The spell struck the girl in the chest, sending her tumbling head over feet across the clearing. She slid to a stop at the end of the ditch her body had created, bare legs flopping down into the dirt as she finally ran out of momentum. Maria didn’t move after that, and Blue Caracal briefly wondered—horrified—if she had accidentally killed her.

  One tanned, manicured hand twitched before reaching for her spear, and she watched as the mud-coated girl stood, her eyes glowing violet-white as she turned in her direction. Fear and relief filled her in equal parts at the sight.

  “Show yourself, puta madre!” she screamed in rage. She took a deep breath and summoned the Lapis Strobe to her hand before stepping forward.

 

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