by P. S. Power
Then without hesitation, she jumped. Freaking hardcore, jumping out without a chute like that. Sure she knew she could handle it, but still, Denis didn't know if he'd be able to do that. All he knew was that he wouldn't survive landing the plane without help. So dead?
Dead.
But on his own terms, not the assassin's and not locked in a little metal cage. Not even a little one made of fiberglass. No, he was going out the side too. Probably after wetting himself, but that was all right. He really doubted anyone would notice.
“Jay, you're up when we come around. You got this though, no problem.” He actually sounded confident about it, which amused him a little. Denis felt it though. Jay really could do this. Argos was probably the fastest man in the world. Heck, he may even be able to just jump like Marsh just had. He absorbed the impact of running like he did after all. Just the sonic booms had to take something special. The man didn't do that often, but he could. Denis had seen it on television a few times.
The string of syllables that came out were nearly a buzz and totally too fast to understand. If it was his last request it probably wasn't going to be filled. On the third pass, well away from Lady Glory's chute, the man bailed. A hum came from the air outside slowly getting softer. Clark looked out the hatch and after a half minute he cheered briefly, a real, very happy sound.
“He's doing it! I don't really see how, but he's barely falling at all!”
Goblin clapped with honest joy.
“It's good! Clark...” This came out soft and slow, meant for the stork like man alone. “You should take him. I... I have a better chance of living than Denis does if I stay. I'm light and loads stronger. Maybe I could do something like what Argos is? A little. Enough to slow me down. Denis is just regular...”
It may have been meant for old Ichabod the kiddy diddler, and had a nice low pitch that nearly hid in the hum, but Denis heard it anyway and shook his head slowly, a small smile on his face.
“Then we'd probably all die Tobin. Clark can't carry me, I'm not huge, but I weigh nearly twice what you do. Besides, I... have a plan. So out you go, I'll be down in a few minutes, don't worry about that.”
His plan? Dying.
He'd jump out and then flatten himself and hope that something could save him and if not, try to look good while he did it. Still, just in case...
“Clark? Buddy old pal? A word with you?” Not that Tobin wouldn't hear, tied to the man's chest with a seat belt like he was.
When he suggested it the stork like man guffawed. A real belly laugh. Then after about fifteen seconds he nodded. Then he shook his head.
“I'll try. I... doubt I can, I can't catch anything moving faster than about fifty miles an hour, it's why I can't stop bullets, but...” The voice was sad.
Right. It gave Denis a tiny shot, that was all. Really he should have learned to fly a plane. It honestly had just never come up before. A huge oversight obviously.
On the next half turn they jumped. Everyone was on the ground now at least or would be soon. One way or the other. He didn't look for them on the ground, not wanting to know if his stupid ass plan had gotten them killed already. Except him. It occurred to him for the first time ever that having Prime's powers could really come in handy about now. Or really, almost anyone's. Other than his. Oh well, maybe this would work, right? If they only got LG and Argos out, along with Marcia, that would be a win. Hopefully Clark was better than he thought he was at catching moving objects. It wasn't likely though, he knew. The IPB testing in things like that was damned thorough.
Taking a deep breath he got the wheel thing straight and propped the stick under it again, then hurried to the back and jumped before he could lose his nerve. Really, his first thought as the wind hit him was that he couldn't believe he'd just done that. Denis had really expected to freeze a few times at the door first, maybe even have to circle a few more times.
Oh yeah, he was freaking hardcore now.
As he fell, lying as flat as possible to slow himself down, resisting the urge to claw at the air trying to fly, he saw them all, Argos and Karen were sitting down and Clark stood, his hand outstretched, trying to slow him. If anything was happening he didn't feel it. Fantastic. At least the guy was trying, that made him feel better about the whole thing for some reason, and Clark. Then, no one had ever said he wasn't a good and worthy teammate, just that he slept with a single twelve year old girl.
Bastard.
Fear ripped through him, and he had to fight not to scramble in the air desperately again. The ground came at him fast and hard and really, he figured that this would be a good time to take that leek, all things considered. He watched as the ground closed, huge and deadly under his falling body.
Then the world vanished.
Not black, not blank. It just wasn't anymore. Not at all. Denis kind of figured this was heaven, or maybe hell. It was nothing though. Just... Peace really. Kind of nice. So heaven then? He wanted to look around, but there wasn't anything to look at. Then suddenly he stood on the ground blinking, next to Karen who was hugging him and Marcia who pounded him on the back.
“What happened?” Denis asked, noticing as he did that Tobin seemed to be wrapping Jay's ankle with his small green shirt, torn into strips, his black and green skin bare and a bit mottled on the chest under the overalls.
No one spoke for a second. Marcia answered firmly, only a hint of an edge to her voice.
“Proxy did. Popped in about ten feet from the ground, not moving at all, then fell and landed in a textbook roll out. Could have added a flourish at the end, but I'd give it a solid eight out of ten.”
Karen giggled in relief and hugged him closer, “at least an eight-six. He didn't get hurt and you're fine. Thank God I-” She cried then, no one tried to stop her.
So, two times in three days, four days maybe, Brian had saved his life. He'd have to send him a card. Or give him a cake maybe. Mark could show him how to make it. It would make a good episode for the show. Denis sat down and smiled.
Not dead yet muther-fuckers! Still alive and kicking. Somehow.
Marcia stood and called them all to attention. Denis glanced at her and she looked fine, not her clothing, but she seemed like she'd just... landed. Like she'd said she would.
“All right, let's get everyone to cover over in those trees. It's not a lot, but we're a man down and don't know if an attack is coming. Normally I'd have said no, but these days it's hard to tell. Brian knows we're here, but not where here is. They should be able to track us via satellite, we all have trackers now, so we find cover and wait.” Marcia sounded confident, like it was a real plan.
Denis shrugged, who was he to claim it wasn't? He moved to help get Jay up but Clark made a noise, a small snort, and lifted the man in the air about a foot with his power and started walking. Everyone else followed, Karen still alternating between giggling fits and crying jags. Tobin looked scared, so Denis walked over and gently clapped him on the back. He jumped, but then the tiny man just looked at Denis as they kept walking.
“Too close to death.” He said.
Denis nodded.
“Way too freaking close. Still, we made it this time and seriously, who walks away from things like this? It must mean were the good guys, right?” He considered for a second. “Or the super-villains, but none of us has enough ill-gotten loot for that, unless you've been holding out on me? So I'm thinking we did something right to earn this. Probably you or Karen really, not me or Clark. Borrowed luck is good enough for me though!” Because, when it came down to it, today simply wasn't a good day to die, Denis thought. Not at freaking all.
Tobin patted him on the back in return then kept walking without comment. Denis shook from the reaction and fear, the excitement of not dying when he really knew for a while that he was going to. He didn't know if everyone else would think he was a pussy for shaking, but at that moment Denis decided not to care about that at all anymore. So what if he looked like a wimp? He knew who he was, and freaking Prophet Darren w
asn't going to rule him for the rest of his life.
He was the guy who just jumped out of an airplane without a chute. And lived.
The woods were young and the trees barely counted as such, no more than a foot around at best. Dense enough for a bit of cover though, so they all settled about halfway in and didn't go anywhere. This meant just sitting, which eventually meant talking. Denis wasn't anti-talking, not after the months of isolation, but other than the prison's food and the few books he'd read, didn't have a lot to share personally. Pain calisthenics probably wouldn't be a good topic given the situation.
What he did have a lot of was nerves and residual fear. Death had loomed at him and frankly gotten a lot closer than it ever had before. At least that he'd been aware of. Even when Brian kicked his ass all those times death hadn't seemed likely. The guy just wasn't a killer. Not in his soul.
Denis couldn't hack it that way either he knew, so wasn't judging. His best attempts at trying hadn't just failed because of bad luck or even just because Brian was a better fighter than he was. Not being a killer made a huge difference that way too. Sure, he could throw pain around or fuck with people's emotions, make them scared or have them tossing their cookies, that didn't even take much work. Killing though...
Yeah, a lot harder.
Yi had to take people's lives to protect others, but even that was screwing with his head. Wearing him down. Now Marcia was a killer. She'd take out a bad guy, or Clark, even Denis, without batting an eye and then sleep contented that night, dreaming of fluffy clouds or unicorns, whatever it was that went on in her head when no one was looking. It made her stand out at the IPB. Civilians worried about “Proxy” killing them, but it was foolish as long as they didn't try to kill anyone else. Marcia actually would if it even just seemed like a good idea at the time. It wasn't lost on him that she kept talking about burying people twenty feet down in the desert like she did. It had the sound of old experience. It would work too. Who checked that deep?
No one spoke for a long time, since everyone had a reason to be a tiny bit stressed still, didn't they? Everyone had nearly bought it today, except Marcia and she'd nearly had her whole new mini-team killed on the first real day. That would have sucked. Imagine the paperwork on that?
Wisely Denis didn't bother mentioning that out loud. That's the kind of thing that always got him in trouble. Saying something that he thought would be funny, to deflect from a hard situation, not realizing it could be insulting. How that one could be didn't make sense to him, but it probably would anyway. Keeping his lips closed did, a kind of “no harm, no kill Denis” thing.
Zip.
Jay, filled with that manic energy of his and unable to fake calm, even for a few moments, started babbling a bit, a stream of consciousness that basically recapped the whole thing from his own perspective. Denis just listened, trying to relax and let the man's words soothe him, as fast as they were. After all, he'd gone months without hearing another voice regularly, and when he had it normally meant pain or abuse.
This was a lot nicer. Jay wasn't going to hurt him at all. Real sweet guy that way.
“So I think that we need to check out all the pilot's and see what the deal is and then get some food, I brought money to eat at the airport, but there's no place to eat here, not even fast food. I can see that I should have brought my bag of snacks with me, but if I'd tried I probably wouldn't have made it. That was so hard, made it though, so all good. I was really scared for Denny, Clark nearly had him I think, but it just wasn't enough. Good try though, we should practice this stuff later if we get a chance, in case it ever comes up again. I know, how likely is that? But I wouldn't have thought it would happen once, so we should. If I'd practiced more I wouldn't have kicked the ground so hard at the end maybe, and then I wouldn't have broken my leg.”
Clark sighed loudly.
“Give it a rest will you Argos? I can't take the yammering right now! I know I failed, you don't have to remind me. I suck and almost got Denny killed because of it.” The stork like man's adam's apple bobbed a few times and the words came out sounding pissy and a little cruel. A bit out of line going toward Jay, but understandable enough.
The squad leader held out a hand. Everyone looked at her, since Beatdown holding an arm out like that could mean pain to follow for someone. Probably Clark, but even being snapped at by the guy, Jay wouldn't want to see him beaten for it. Most likely.
“It's post trauma nerves, don't take off at each other over it. That can ruin unit cohesion. And annoy me. Mainly that last one.” The woman grinned, a forced and dark thing.
A little oddly Karen got up and sat by Clark, holding his hand. A move meant to be reassuring, her compassion showing again probably. Clark looked shocked and maybe a bit scared. Slowly he pulled his hand out of hers, which made her look a bit hurt. Marsh nodded though.
“Fucking-A right Clark. Not that Karen's a kid, but making sure you don't take advantage of women is half of what you have to do right now, and her compassion and your need means she's probably vulnerable to you right now. Good job.” She didn't sound proud of him. Forced and edgy. No beating followed at least, so probably real enough.
Things went quiet for a second, so Denis decided to add his own, hopefully distracting, bitch to the conversation. Relax first, he told himself. Don't be a dick about it...
“Um, in the future, could people not call me “Denny” please? That... I used to be called that, by Prophet Darren. Usually before he took us kids out for torture or locked the boys up so he could “play” with and “instruct” the girls. I know that no one could have known that, it's a pretty normal nickname, but, if you can...” He tried to leave it there, which just didn't work. Everyone wanted to know everything, it could be seen in their eyes. No one asked at least. Karen teared up.
“I'm so sorry that happened to you.” She half wailed it, actually sobbing.
Denis nodded, “you and me both. I didn't catch the worst of it either. Not even close. No one raped me. Electrical torture to “teach us to behave”, being locked in a closet for days, weeks sometimes, with rats and spiders, that kind of thing, beatings with canes so that the spared rod wouldn't spoil a child. Not switches, but inch thick dowels of oak, so they wouldn't break too easily. Fasting for days on end and freezing cold showers in the winter to help “purify” our souls.” Denis looked around and wished for the first time in months that he had some booze. Not just a drink or two, but bottles of the stuff, to help him forget.
“The girls... it was bad. At first I didn't get the idea, not as anything wrong at least, I thought it was just what people did. At ten they all got taken as the prophet's “wife”. Now, of course I understood that he was having sex with them all. He made us all watch sometimes, said it was so we'd learn how to be with a woman. I just didn't know that all girls didn't do that at ten. Not at first, but I knew that it was wrong. And I mean all of them. Regularly too. The fucker is a goat. So, yeah. Don't call me “Denny” please.” Looking down for a second he took a shuddering breath.
“For that matter, while we're on how screwed up my childhood was, don't imply that I'm gay either. That dick-weed did that as an excuse to punish me as a kid. Trying to “work the devil out of me”. I'm not gay, but even if I was it would still probably get me going if someone called me that now.”
Tobin, shirtless, hatless and wearing kids “farmer” overalls straightened. His voice came out a lot more strongly than Denis had ever heard it before, angry.
Very nearly fierce.
“We need to stop him then. I don't know how, but we'll find a way and make it so that he can't hurt anyone else again, ever. Even if we have to collect up some of the others and make sure he just doesn't wake up one day. I think... Cellophane could do it. Penny. I don't think anyone in the world could stop her if she decides they're dead. Not even Marcia and she's nearly impossible to kill.”
Marcia nodded.
“True... Sounds like a plan to me. Mark or maybe even Christian could do it too
without being noticed, but if it comes to that I think Penny would have the easiest time. Mark won't kill and Chris would live the death. I've never been much of one for religion anyway and that abusive kind of shit is why.” Her dress hadn't made the fall very well. Barely hanging on in fact. Everyone kind of ignored that, except Clark, who covertly kept checking out her right breast, which popped out every few breaths. She didn't seem concerned about it. Really she probably didn't even notice.
“That and all the singing. I have a horrible voice.”
Denis made sure to focus only on her milk chocolate brown eyes when he looked her way. It probably made him seem hostile or something, so he forced a smile. A bit fake, he knew. What did they want though? Go from tool to arch-angle in sixty seconds? He'd tried flying already, and that hadn't worked at all. Honestly Denis wasn't sure how he'd managed to not wet himself. He didn't have to go anymore either, however that worked.
“Yeah, so, um, thanks? I should probably say I don't need help or something here, because a “real man” goes it alone, but that hasn't been working for me so well in life. My natural fallback position of being a jerk either, which, well, I suppose you all can figure out by now. So if anyone gets an idea, let me know.”
It was the most he'd ever told anyone about how he'd been raised. He couldn't go in to all of it yet. That would just be too much. There were some things Denis couldn't even let himself think about most days, not if he wanted to live with himself at all. Thankfully no one asked. No one really wanted to hear it all anyway. They may think they did, but they really didn't. Not if they wanted to sleep at night.
Looking a bit scared and sympathetic, Karen moved and put an arm around him for comfort.
“How about we call you “Den” instead? Is that all right? Or...”
The obvious trailing off got his attention, he was supposed to come up with some other thing to be called? He sucked at names. When he originally left Faithhome Denis' big stab of defiance had been changing his name by dropping one of the two “n's” in it. The pronunciation didn't even change.