by John McCrae
If the sister had come after me, I wouldn’t have been able to fight back. Like a deer in the headlights, I stood there, unable to think or compel my body to move.
She rotated in mid-air slowly, as if getting her bearings. As ponderously as she had moved one moment, she went tearing after Bonesaw in the next, slamming through walls as momentum carried her too far and as she turned a corner too tight and sheared through the drywall, tile and window frames.
I could hear Bonesaw laughing with childlike glee as she fled.
“Not smart, not smart, either of you,” Jack chastised us. ”See, with Victoria gone, you’ve left me here with a hostage.”
I stood with my back to the wall, gun in hand. Ten bullets in here, four spent, if I’d counted right. I’d always sort of rolled my eyes at how movies treated guns and counting bullets, but it was harder than I’d thought. The shock and disorientation that came with firing a gun tended to disrupt even basic arithmetic. I couldn’t remember how many times I’d fired during the fight in the parking lot.
“I’ve been turning every microbe that touches my skin into an airborne plague, Jack,” Panacea spoke, her voice low. ”You should be dead now.”
“And me?” I called out, feeling a pang of alarm.
“I didn’t know you were there. You should be dead too. Sorry.”
“A benefit of little Bonesaw’s smoke,” Jack answered. ”If I recall correctly, it’s something of a safeguard in case she accidentally deploys a concoction she hasn’t immunized herself or the rest of our team against. The fact that it works against bugs and small rodents is a side benefit, rather than the intent. Bonesaw’s work has made us members of the Nine more or less immune to disease anyways.”
“And the gunshot?”
“Subdermal mesh. There’s more protection around the spine and organs, and you landed that shot pretty close to my spine. It hurts quite a bit.”
“Skitter! I don’t care if I die,” Panacea called out, “I’d rather live, if only to turn Victoria back to normal, but… just don’t worry about the hostage part. If I have to die so you can kill this fucker, I will.”
It isn’t that simple. Killing a monster like Jack or Bonesaw? That was one thing. I could push myself to do it. Killing a bystander in the process? That was something else entirely.
Jack seemed to be able to interpret my pause. “I suspect, Amelia, that she is worried about the hostage. The monster that dwells in Skitter’s heart is very similar one to yours. It’s a lonely thing, desperate for a place to belong, and the only thing it wants to be brutish to is her.”
“Don’t pretend you know me, Jack,” I called out. ”You already tried to fuck with my head, you guessed wrong.”
“I had bad information. Cherish has her uses, but she was never going to be a long-term member of the group. The people who can are truly special. Bonesaw, Siberian, me. Perhaps Mannequin, but it’s hard to say. He’s not terribly social, but he’s been with us for some time.”
I stayed silent. I could hear his voice changing in volume as he spoke. Was he moving?
There were two doors leading into the classroom. Was he moving toward one, aiming to leap out and strike at me? I glanced down the length of the hall. Bathroom, janitorial closet, another bathroom, storage room… it made sense that there wouldn’t be other classrooms adjacent to a music room with minimal soundproofing.
“You two have your differences, of course. Amelia, you’re burdened by guilt, as you’re burdened by your rules and so much else. I’d like you to think again about how nice it would be to be free-”
“No,” Amelia’s interruption was curt, almost defensive.
“Alas. Well, while I’m interpreting you two, I’d say Skitter is driven by guilt. What makes you feel so guilty, bug girl?”
He’s trying to distract me.
I scampered along the length of the hallway, keeping low enough that I wouldn’t be visible from the window while I moved to the point just beyond the effects of the bug-killing cloud. I could send bugs after Bonesaw and the sister -Victoria, was it?- but Bonesaw would still have that cloud of smoke around her. I doubted my ability to achieve anything on that front.
“There’s always some guilt related to family. Tell me, what would your mother think, to see you on an average day? Or can’t you remember her with the miasma? I’d almost forgotten.”
Even if I couldn’t remember her face, who she was, or even where she was, I could feel a pang of regret that knotted in my gut. I grit my teeth to remind myself to keep from opening my mouth and grasped the cords that my bugs had threaded together. I looped them around Atlas’ horn, and then I ran down the hallway, still keeping low.
Just to check, I tried bringing bugs into the hallway. The smoke was still present, if thin. They still died, just a little slower than before. I returned them to their previous location. No use wasting them for nothing.
“Skitter,” he called out in a sing-song voice. With the acoustics of the hallway, I couldn’t pinpoint his location. ”Aren’t you going to reply?”
Just as I was trying to locate him, he was attempting to do the same for me.
I decided to give him what he wanted.
“You’re pathetic, Jack.”
I’d intended to provoke him, and I’d succeeded.
I’d also intended to pull the silk cord taut as he stepped into the hallway, tripping him.
Instead of opening the door, he leaped through the open window in the upper half of the door, tucking his knees against his chest. He landed with a short roll, spotted me, and slashed.
I brought my arms up around my face to protect it. The feeling of the silk cord’s weight dropped to virtually nothing as the slash cut it.
I’d been given tips on fighting, even if I couldn’t remember by who or by whom. Catch them off guard. My arms around my face, nearly blind, I charged him.
He caught me in the side with a kick, but I had enough forward momentum that I crashed into him anyways. We fell to the ground, and I reached for the smoking vial that hung around his neck.
Jack already had the stiletto in one hand. He jabbed it toward my face, my eye, and I jerked my head back out of the way, abandoning my attempt to get the vial. Using one elbow, he shoved me to one side, then flipped over, simultaneously reversing his grip on the knife in his other hand and driving it down toward the side of my head. I rolled with the momentum he’d given me to escape before it could pierce my ear or my temple. He was already following up, slashing both knives at me, one after the other.
He knew how to fight, of course. He’d said he’d been at this for a while.
Hated this. Hated fighting without knowing enough about my opponents.
I tried to get my feet under me, but it was slow and awkward as I was unable to use my hands. I had to wrap my arms around my head to shield my face against the continued flurry of slashes. Jack had a knife in each hand now, and he wasn’t giving me a half second between cuts, if that.
My forearms and hands didn’t cover enough of my head. I could feel the cuts nicking my ears, slashing through my hair by my temple. A few slashes made their way through gaps between my arms and fingers.
Blindly, I rushed for the classroom. Needed a second to breathe, to think, before I was whittled down to a bleeding ruin. I could hear footsteps behind me. I felt a hand seize my shoulder. I whirled and knocked it away, felt another knife slash crossing the back of my head. I had blood in my eyes, my ears were a bloody ruin, and cuts burned like fire around my scalp and neck.
A shout. Not Jack’s. I heard it again, the same words, but I couldn’t make them out. There was blood in my ears.
I stumbled into the classroom, and Panacea was at my side in a moment.
“Fix me,” I gasped. I couldn’t tell where Jack was, and I was hurting enough that I couldn’t think to strategize. He hadn’t followed. ”Fast!”
She touched my forehead, and I could feel the cuts knitting together.
But there was another injury that w
asn’t mending.
“The red miasma took away my ability to recognize people. I don’t know anything about the people I’m fighting. Fix my brain.”
“I don’t- I can’t.”
“If you don’t fix me, Jack could win, and billions could die. If you don’t cure whatever it is that Bonesaw’s done with this miasma, I and tens of thousands of others could die of a degenerative brain disease.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t cure brain damage.”
My heart fell.
“I- my- the last time I did it, the last time I broke my rules, everything fell apart. You’re asking me to do the exact same thing Jack was. To break my rules again.”
“They’re just rules.” Where was Jack?
“They’re the only thing holding me together.”
He’s getting away. This stupid girl. ”You were willing to die if he took you hostage. I’m asking you to sacrifice yourself in a lesser way. Fall apart if you have to. But undo what Bonesaw’s started.”
“This is worse than dying,” she said, her voice quiet.
“Ask yourself if it’s worse than the slow, degenerative death of thousands and the potential end of the world.”
She stared at me.
Even as she looked at me, aghast, I felt something awaken in my mind, barriers crumbling.
“This is bad. Every second is time you’re suffering more permanent damage.”
“That’s not a huge priority. I’m more worried about Jack, and all the others who got hit harder by this stuff than I did.”
“It’s a parasite that’s producing the improperly folded proteins. I can stop it, and I think I can make them create a counter-agent that counteracts the proteins and promotes healing in the brain. Can’t make them fix the lesions, but I can promote plasticity in the brain and new connections to old information.”
Her voice was so quiet I barely heard it.
But I could remember the others; I remembered Tattletale and Brian. Rachel. I could remember Alec and Aisha. The dogs. Our enemies. My dad. My mom’s face popped into my mind’s eye and I could feel a relief as I let go of an anxiety that I hadn’t been consciously aware of.
“The parasites will replace existing parasites over time, and they’ll die if it gets cold, now. Or if you raise your blood alcohol content. Get drunk after a week or two to clear them from your system, and don’t drink tainted water. If everyone clears them from their systems, the miasma’s effects will be gone by the end of winter.”
“They’re probably what she seeded all over the area, before using the catalyst.”
“I’d believe it.”
“And the damage, can you reverse it?”
“The minor damage, yeah. But I can’t do anything for the people with more serious brain lesions unless I attend to them directly. There’s other healers out there, I know they’re not as good, but maybe they can do something to fix that.”
I nodded.
Precious seconds passed.
“Let me know the second I can go,” I said. ”Jack’s going to attack, or pull something.”
“Trying to engineer a large-scale solution to help as many people as soon as possible. The parasites will leave your body through your sweat, spit and urine, and enter the local water supply to override the others, and anyone you cure will cure others in a sort of reverse-epidemic. I have to make sure this is engineered right, or nobody’s going to get cured. If I screw it up, it could be worse than what Bonesaw did.”
My leg bounced on the spot with anxiety and anticipation. Jack was up to something and I was sitting there.
I tried to distract myself with a change of subject, “Where did you get the material for what you did for Glory Girl? That sarcophagus thing. You have to use living material, so…”
“They weren’t human.”
“That’s not that reassuring.”
“I used pheromones to lure stray cats, dogs and rats to us, then I knit them together. Victoria didn’t have enough body fat to stay warm, and she was wearing out faster than I could get her nutrition.”
“She’s going to return to normal, though?”
“Just a little more time. I have to ensure she’s totally together inside the cocoon, then disconnect her from it, and make sure she reaches a physical equilibrium afterward. Once I know she’ll recover…” she trailed off.
“Amy-”
“Go. You’re done. Go after Jack.”
I hesitated. There was a look in her eyes, dark. She wasn’t meeting my gaze.
I turned and ran. Atlas was waiting on the rooftop as I ascended the stairs.
Too much time lost. My body was a counter-agent for Bonesaw’s prion generators, but I had to find Jack and Bonesaw. I could scout the area with my bugs, vaguely sense the areas they’d traveled by seeing what spots murdered my bugs on contact, but I still had to track their movements.
Glory Girl was hovering over the school, searching for Bonesaw. The ‘cocoon’, as Amy had called it, was damaged much as the school gate had been, but Glory Girl was still intact inside.
The fact that she was looking made it very possible that we were facing the worst case scenario.
The bug-killing smoke extended outside of the school gates. It was hard to verify if they’d gone that way and corked the flow of the smoke or if it was traces from before. My only resource and means of detecting it was my bugs, but testing it meant killing them by the dozens, if not hundreds.
If they stayed on the grounds and I left, it could mean something ugly for Amy and Glory girl. Conversely, if they’d left and I stayed, it could mean disaster for everyone else.
I left, flying Atlas in an ever-expanding circle, reaching out with my bugs to scan the surroundings.
With a mixture of relief and fear, I realized that Bonesaw’s extermination smoke was stronger a half mile away. I’d been lucky enough to guess right.
They’d split up. Two trails, extending down different streets. My bugs felt around to see where the death-zone was, a few dropping dead each time, their numbers whittling down. It was like a game of battleship, with constantly moving ships and limited ammunition.
Three trails. I stopped in mid-air.
Three?
I gave chase to the nearest one, abandoning Atlas to pursue the subject into an alley, through a hole in the wall and into a derelict building, past a pile of rubble… this wasn’t right. It was too nimble, moving through spaces too small for even Bonesaw.
And before I even returned to Atlas, there were a half-dozen trails in total that were branching out around us. In another few minutes, there were a dozen.
Our group had used this method some time ago, using Grue’s power to slip away from the bank robbery. But how were they doing it? It wasn’t just the wind carrying the gas down misleading alleys. Were there living creatures carrying vials of the stuff?
Mechanical spiders. They’d found their maker, and Bonesaw was using them to distribute the vapor and cut off my swarm sense.
They’d escaped.
14.11
I continued my search for the pair, but my tentative explorations of the trails of extermination-mist made a sweeping search all but hopeless.
It felt like I was facing a series of decisions where every answer had some merit, but picking the wrong one would spell disaster. I’d had to make the call between staying at the school in case Jack and Bonesaw were preparing a trap for Amy and Glory Girl, or leaving in case they’d made a run for it. I’d left, and I’d been lucky enough to be right.
Except the Nine were now covering their tracks with a dozen decoys, mechanical spiders leaving trails of bug-killing smoke, leaving me to guess which direction they’d gone.
Two solid possibilities dwelled with me.
The first was that they’d headed back downtown to rendezvous with Siberian. If I was drawing the right conclusions from what I’d overheard, Bonesaw had drawn together a cocoon for Siberian similar to the one that Amy had created for Glory Girl. They could be recoveri
ng her real body, maybe doing something to recover Mannequin or Crawler.
It hadn’t even crossed my mind while I was under the miasma’s influence, but I also had to wonder whether Regent would have maintained his control over Shatterbird.
The second possibility was that they’d gone after Cherish. My conversation with Coil had clued them in.
I checked my phone. No service.
Damn the Director. Damn her for making this so hard, and for complicating matters. We’d been playing by Jack’s rules, more or less, and she’d given him an excuse to pull out all the stops.
He probably would have anyways, but she gave him an excuse.
If I headed away from the downtown area, toward the water, I could put myself in a position to track down Cherish, or to get to another point where the satellite phone would work and make a call to Coil. If they were checking the harbor for Cherish, going by what she’d revealed on the phone, then I could get there first. Lay a trap, or get in position to shoot them again. I figured out how to remove the magazine from the gun and checked the number of rounds remaining. Six.
The problem was that the whole reason I’d let Panacea keep using her power on me instead of giving chase to Jack was that I was supposed to cure the others. I could kill and replace the parasites that were carrying the prions. The sooner I did it, the less damage they’d do in the meantime. Some of the damage would be permanent, and the potential victims included Brian and Lisa.
I wanted to head back downtown, to help my teammates and friends, but I couldn’t shake the nagging doubt in the back of my mind.
The difference between Jack and Bonesaw going downtown and their going to the coastline was that the former was almost kind, taking care of a teammate. The latter case allowed them to inflict some terrible torture on an ex-teammate of theirs.
It was the most inconvenient possibility, but my gut told me they’d go after Cherish. If I had to put numbers on it, I’d have said there was a sixty percent chance they’d go that route, a thirty-five percent chance they’d headed downtown. And there was always the possibility I was wrong, that they had something else in mind, so I was leaving room for that extra five percent.