Both the possessed man and the creature latched to his chest cried out, mirrored squeals of pain and terror. The parasite body shook in a spasm, clamping down so hard on its host body Doc could hear ribs breaking. And then the parasite let go, the gripping appendages going limp, and it fell to the ground, twitching slowly as the life left it.
Its human host fell backward, burned, terrified, the agony written plain across his face.
"You…" the man said. Doc stood over him, waiting.
"How many more of you are here? What else have you done? What did you tell them?" Doc said. "We need answers from you."
The man just smiled, pain clear across his face, and rested his burnt hands where the parasite had been. Doc heard the hiss of his sword being lifted from the ground, and glanced over to see Bedlam lifting it up. She came to stand over the fallen enemy and pressed the tip of the sword against the man's neck.
Doc put a hand on her metallic wrist, and she hesitated. The man passed away, as though his body failed under the strain of his own transformation, with a blind smile on his face.
"I'll tell you what I know," the first man they'd found said. Doc had almost forgotten him, lying on the ground, looking like half a corpse himself.
"You made me," Bedlam said. She flexed her robotic fingers aggressively. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't pop your head off your shoulders right now."
"I'll give you two," the man croaked. "One: without us, you're a vegetable and invalid in a hospital somewhere, and because of us you're standing beside a superhero."
Bedlam scowled at Doc. He kept his expression blank, wanting the cyborg to make her own choice.
"And two?" she said.
"That bastard on the ground over there tried to kill me, and my own…" he paused, catching his beleaguered breath. "And my own colleagues left me here to die. Don't do the same to me, and I'll tell you everything the Children knew."
Chapter 17:
Werewolves and windows
Kate and Titus returned to the RIETI building under cover of darkness, parking their aircraft in a field a mile away. He seemed legitimately concerned someone would try to steal it.
"What if our getaway car isn't there when we need it?" he said as they crouched in a blind spot in the facility's security cameras, just beyond the sea of satellite dishes.
"Do you know how to fly it?" Kate said.
"No," Titus said.
"Then why would you think some teenager out for an evening stroll is going to be able to climb inside and fly away in it?" Kate said.
Titus glared at her.
"Don't taunt me with your logic, devil-woman," he said.
"You've been spending too much time with Emily," Kate said, punctuating the comment by breaking out into a run. He followed close behind. They maneuvered their way carefully across the field, perfectly timing their sprints based on the movement of security cameras Kate had absorbed earlier in the day. Getting to the building was the easy part, she thought. It was a matter of timing. But they couldn't just walk in the front door, not even with the stolen passkey they had. So Kate decided they'd try a trick they'd used once before.
Arriving alongside the building and pausing in a shadowed corner, Titus shook his head and shrugged off his coat, handing it to Kate.
"This is twice you've convinced me to help you breaking and entering," Titus said.
"Won't be the last time, either," she said, watching, as she always does, with mild fascination as he transformed from skinny human boy to massive werewolf. Metamorphosis complete, Kate hopped onto his back, wrapping her arms around his thick neck, and Titus leapt along the side of the building, huge paws grasping at windowsills and ledges to haul both of them up to the fourth floor and then onto the roof. At the very top, Kate peered over the ledge, checking for rooftop security cameras. As she suspected, a building this isolated focused its security on outside intrusions, assuming no one would be able to get close enough to get up to the roof.
They scurried over and Kate handed Titus's jacket back to him as he transformed back.
"We left a flying machine a mile away and you just had me climb us up onto a roof," Titus said.
Kate threw one of her patented dirty looks at him.
"Which we would have had trouble live-parking on a roof," he continued.
Kate kept staring.
"And might have been seen on camera—want me to tear that door open for you?" Titus said, altering the topic of conversation and gesturing at the door leading to the stairs into the building.
"I've got it," Kate said, swiping the stolen security card through a reader. The light on the reader blinked green, and they stepped inside.
The moved quickly to the third floor. Kate remembered exactly where Lester Rice-Bell's office had been. The building itself was empty, offices dim, doors left casually open. One office remained lit, though.
"He's still here," Titus said.
Kate nodded. They approached the door and walked in together.
Lester Rice-Bell sat at his desk, his back to them, unmoving. He remained in his dark, ill-fitting business suit, hands on his knees, head up.
Titus approached the desk cautiously.
"Mr. Rice-Bell?" he said.
"I knew you'd come back," the man said, his voice stronger than before. Stranger. He still did not move, though, nor turn back to face them. "I knew you couldn't resist."
"What are you talking about—" Titus said, putting a hand on Rice-Bell's shoulder across the desk. Moving with inhuman speed, the older man grabbed Titus's arm and threw him, as if he weighed almost nothing, through the window behind the desk. Titus's body smashed through the glass with a horrific thump and crash, and Kate watched as her companion plummeted into the night sky.
Lester Rice-Bell stood up to his full height then, turning to face Kate. His shirt and tie had been undone, and underneath them, she saw an eerie, spider-like thing clinging to his chest, segmented, crablike legs holding on like a child. It pulsed a deep, patient red.
Kate smiled.
"Not quite the reaction I was expecting from someone who just watched me throw her friend out a window," Rice-Bell said.
"He'll be fine," Kate said, clenching her hands into fists. "And you have no idea how much I've been wanting to hit someone."
Rice-Bell looked quizzically as Kate launched herself across the room, using his own desk for leverage to leap into the air and kick him in the face. She felt her tungsten-capped boot smash into his cheekbone. The man staggered, hunching over, but rose again to his full height and laughed.
"My turn," he said, picking up the desk with both hands and swinging it at her like a club. Kate dove onto the floor, the table passing over her harmlessly, though its contents—pens, laptop, family photos—poured down, pounding onto her shoulders like rain.
The desk out of the way, Kate spun herself to kick Rice-Bell in the knee, connecting hard where the joint was most easily damaged. His leg buckled and he dropped the desk—again, just barely missing Kate—but seemed otherwise unhurt.
She scurried back a few steps, looking at Rice-Bell's grossly bent knee, his lacerated and crushed cheekbone. Both healed visibly in front of her, mending as he walked limping toward her.
She looked around the room, surveying potential improvised weapons. Good. This means I don't have to feel bad if I hit him with…
One of the fallen objects from Rice-Bell's desk rolled past her. A glass ball with a family photo trapped inside, heavy, round, and exactly the right size to fit in her hand. She picked it up and almost laughed.
"You don't have any powers, do you," Rice-Bell said. "That's disappointing. I was hoping for—"
Before the man could finish, Kate pushed herself up using all the strength in her legs and reared her throwing hand back, the weighty glass globe held like a softball. But instead of throwing it, using the same motion, she brought the sphere down on Rice-Bell's face, dead between the eyes. Kate felt the thrum of glass against skull reverberate all the way up her
arm into her shoulder. Her fingers went numb. The light in Rice-Bell's eyes flickered.
Blindly, he lashed out, catching Kate with an outstretched arm and knocking her against bookshelves. Kate reached up and found some sort of award, a wood and metal statue attached to a marble base, and weaved her way in closer, horrified as she watched the man's nose reform itself back to its original shape. She swung the trophy at Rice-Bell, who smirked as he side-stepped her, dodging a blow to the face.
Instead, the trophy connected with the thing attached to Rice-Bell's chest, the marble base hooking grotesquely where the parasitic creature met the man's skin. Disgusted, Kate tugged on it, instinctually putting one booted foot against the alien creature. The corner of the award's base scrapped wetly against the parasite's flesh. Rice-Bell screamed.
He batted her away again, yanking the trophy free, his face becoming less human, a mask of rage. His skin seemed to be changing color, too, growing almost jaundiced, bruised bags forming under his eyes.
Seeing an opening, Kate moved in again, throwing a barrage of punches and kicks at Rice-Bell's head and throat while hammering at the parasite with her knee. This seemed to only enrage him more, and Rice-Bell caught her, one unexpectedly strong hand gripping her shoulder, the other grabbing her upper arm.
She kicked him three times in the groin, aiming her tungsten-capped boot with brutal precision. Pain flickered behind Rice-Bell's rage-filled eyes, but his grip only tightened.
And then, over his shoulder, Kate saw a very angry werewolf climb in through the broken window, breathing heavily, fangs bared.
"Took you long enough," she said.
Rice-Bell turned his head just quick enough to be watching when Titus pounced on him, claws flashing lightning quick, shredding the man's upper body. Rice-Bell released Kate instinctually, dropping her to the floor. She watched as his body knitted back together incredibly swiftly under Titus's rampaging attacks, his pale hands dug fingers into Titus's neck as the werewolf clamped jaws down on the man's shoulder and shook him like a dog with a toy. Rice-Bell pushed back, shoving Titus toward the window again.
"The thing on his chest, Titus!" Kate yelled, wondering how far buried her companion's rational mind was. She knew Titus had more and more control over his feral werewolf aspect, but she also realized trauma made it more difficult to reel the wolf back in, and he had just fallen three stories through a window. She might be talking to a furry brick wall right now.
The werewolf looked at her for a split second, confused, and Rice-Bell took advantage of the pause to head butt Titus in the face. Titus roared, more out of anger than pain, and reached back with one clawed hand to plunge it into the creature on the man's chest, sinking talons deep into its flesh. The result was almost comical in its vileness—Rice-Bell began shaking, his body trying to pull back and away from the werewolf, while Titus's claws were trapped, leaving the werewolf shaking his arm like a child trying to free itself from a bug stuck to its hand.
Finally, Titus—or the wolf itself? Kate saw a dark, inhuman logic in his eyes as he made his next move—reached down with his other hand and dug those claws in as well, pulling the parasite apart in two directions. The bug-like thing began to split in half, cracking like an eggshell, strange, blackish blood welling out with the density of syrup.
Titus roared triumphantly and tore the parasite entirely in half, throwing it away to either side. Kate grimaced as the halves of the creature landed with wet thumps. Rice-Bell collapsed to the ground, his body shaking, mouth moving like a fish pulled from the water.
She ran across the room, sliding on her knees to the fallen man's side. Kate grabbed his head in both hands.
"What do you know?" she said. "Tell us what you were doing!"
The man stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time, gasping. He reached out toward the debris they'd knocked on the floor. At first Kate thought he was trying to grab his laptop, but she saw something else, a nondescript box, dark wood and smooth, something you'd hide keepsakes in. He pointed at that, then grabbed her hand, gripping it tightly, looking into her eyes.
As she watched the life leaving Rice-Bell's body, she heard Titus reverting to human form behind her, his breathing changing from the deep, monstrous hum of the werewolf to his own pained and labored breaths.
"Tell me I didn't just kill that man?" Titus said, kneeling down beside Kate. Titus looked at his hands, covered in the viscous blood of the parasite, and made a face as if he might gag.
"You didn't," Kate said. She pointed at the still squirming remnants. "That thing did. All you did was break its hold on him."
Titus sat down, tried to wipe the sweat from his face, but caught himself before smearing alien blood all over his forehead. He rubbed his face against his bare shoulder instead, ineffectually.
Kate picked up the box Rice-Bell had been gesturing to and opened it up. Inside there were handwritten letters on yellow legal paper. She closed the box and tucked it under her arm.
Titus gestured around at the chaos of the room, eyes wide.
"What are we going to do about this?" he said.
"Call the Department on the flight home to come in and do a thorough sweep," Kate said. She absorbed the full scope of the mess incredulously. "And then we figure out what was so important about these notes."
Chapter 18:
Dogfight
Billy felt Dude kick up the speed as three Nemesis fighters chased him just outside Saturn's atmosphere.
Running had seemed like the smart option at the beginning, but the ships were fast, almost as fast as Straylight could fly, and with three pursuers, dodging was getting more and more difficult.
The ships behind him were silent and swift, chitin-like armor gleaming in the light of stars. So far they hadn't fired at him, but Billy knew it was just a matter of time.
Then something flew past him, a pellet the size of a human head.
What was that, Billy thought.
Projectile, Dude said. An oversized bullet.
They can use bullets in space? Billy thought, dodging another sphere.
No friction, Dude said. If they launch it hard enough, it'll just keep going until it hits something…
Billy soared down closer to the planet, tugged by its gravity, the vastness of the gas giant feeling like the deepest water he'd ever seen. Another bullet swung past him and disappeared, and he found himself suddenly angry.
What are you doing, Billy Case? Dude said.
Billy didn't answer, banking up away from the planet's atmosphere, creating a dramatic arc of light, using his greater speed to advantage. Suddenly above the three alien fighters, he held out his hands toward the center ship and fired duel blasts of blue-white light into its shell. To his surprise, the blasts tore right through the surface of the ship, red-black fuel spilling out of the gaping hole he'd created. He fired again with both hands, and the fighter seemed to be cut adrift, tilting and falling slowly toward Saturn.
Well that worked, Billy thought.
There was a reason I didn't want to fight them, Dude said. Don't get cocky.
Before Billy could demand follow-up information from that statement, the two remaining fighters turned toward him, amped up their speed, and took evasive action to dodge Billy's light-blasts.
Okay, okay, bad move, Billy thought, returning to his escape plan, kicking up his own velocity to avoid the two ships.
He aimed for Saturn's glowing rings, hearing Dude's voice yelling at him not to fly through the ice and dust that made up the rings. Billy banked left rather than fly through the rings themselves, skirted the fast-moving debris and hoped the fighters wouldn't be able to maneuver, and be forced to crash into the dust storm. Instead, they kept up with his moves and, spinning skillfully, maintained their sights on him, flying in a complex pattern to limit his options for escaping.
Then an alarmingly familiar reddish bolt of light hummed past him, terrifyingly close.
Tell me that wasn't a null gun! Billy thought, thinking of th
e weapon he'd encountered twice now that had been designed to kick Luminae like Dude out of their host body temporarily.
The weapon was deadly effective on Earth where it could be used to cut off Billy's connection to Dude when he was in danger, or even when flying. Here in space, Billy assumed he'd be dead in seconds without Dude's powers protecting him from the vacuum.
I told you there was a reason I wanted us to run, Dude said, calmly enough to make Billy mad at him.
Next time, lead with 'they have null guns,' Billy thought. That should be your first fricken' comment.
Who do you think invented the null gun? Dude said as together they evaded another blast. Now both fighters were firing null guns at them, intuitively trying to fire where Billy would be rather than where he was, cutting off all of his escape routes.
History lesson later, Billy said. New plan.
No, Dude said, reading Billy's mind and clearly disagreeing with his plan.
Got a better one? Billy thought, feeling another null gun blast sizzle past his ear.
No, Dude repeated, and Billy felt the alien relent in his argument.
If this doesn't work, Billy said, steeling himself to perform one of the stupider actions he'd ever done, I had a lot of fun being your partner.
Stop talking and do it, Dude said.
Billy smiled in spite of the danger and hit the virtual breaks, coming to a dead stop. The lack of motion seemed to confuse both of the fighters, whose next shots were very far off the mark.
Billy turned and flew full speed at the nose of one fighter. The ship balked a bit, as if unsure how to react to the suicidal move by its target. Billy could see the reddish light of the null gun warming but not firing. Somewhere inside that ship, the pilot or gunner didn't know how to respond to its target flying straight toward it.
That hesitation lasted until Billy smashed straight through the nose of the ship, a hammer through a piñata, Dude's protective energy shield acting as armor against the impact. Together they gutted the fighter, which all but exploded on impact.
Like A Comet: The Indestructibles Book 4 Page 10