Guardians Of The Galaxy: Collect Them All Prose Novel

by Corinne Duyvis

  That wasn’t good. Peter had only anticipated a 20 percent loss—oh, of course. It must’ve already been damaged by the security bots.

  “Hey,” Rocket went on, “I’m about to murder a DiMavi who was sending bots after Kree interns. Wanna listen in?”

  “No,” Peter and Gamora said in unison.

  “Aw, fine.” He paused. “Try and go easy on Groot?”

  Peter didn’t answer. In part because he was a tiny bit busy at the moment. In part because he couldn’t make that promise.

  He and Gamora surged inside the building.

  “Hi again.” Peter pulled his element gun before he even had his feet on the floor. He froze Annay instantly, trapping her gun arm by her side, then landed.

  Annay tried to pull her arm free. The hologram of her false Kree face twisted. “I hate you guys,” she said. “A lot. I was so—oh, forget it. Groot! Bash through the force field!”

  Past the transparent force field and blown-open doors, they could see the other Kree—the Grootling in disguise—in the conference room, walking through a cloud of dust. He made a sad figure, hunched and alone. He was looking around the room as though trying to find something or someone, or trying to remember what he was meant to do.

  The moment Annay shouted her order, he turned and stormed the force field.

  “I am Groot!”

  Thud. The noise felt out of place, incongruous with the small Kree holo.

  “I am Groot!”

  Thud.

  The Grootling scrambled back and shook his head, an abrupt tug left, right, as if he had to shake off stars from the impact.

  Then he was back in motion. “I am Groot!

  Thud.

  The force field started to fizzle. It couldn’t take much more. If they wanted to take the Grootling out without risk to bystanders, they had to do it now.

  “You’ve lost,” Gamora told Annay. “Even if he escapes, the Council is long gone.”

  “The other Kree aren’t,” Annay said.

  A scan of the stairwell confirmed it: Whatever measures Rocket had taken to slow down the Kree military, they’d broken through. Several were headed to this floor; they’d be here in moments.

  “And you know what the great thing about the Kree is?” Annay reached for her neck with her unfrozen hand, flicking something away. The holo promptly blinked off. There she stood, 100 percent herself again: green and strong, her white hair a sweaty, tangled mess over a grimly amused face.

  Peter really had liked that face.

  Not so much anymore.

  “It doesn’t matter whether I kill the Council,” Annay said. “It would have been nice. But a DiMavi even getting this far—”

  “It’d still start a war,” Gamora said.

  “You’re catching on. If our cowardly government won’t fight back against the Kree—well, now the Kree won’t give them a choice.”

  “Thousands will die,” Peter said in disbelief. “Tens of thousands! DiMavi, too!”

  This had never been about justice, he realized. It wasn’t even about revenge.

  It was about bloodlust.

  “At least they’ll die in a fight that needs fighting.” Annay looked over her shoulder. “Hey! Kree!” she bellowed. “The people responsible—”

  In the space of a breath, Gamora stood behind her. She clamped one hand to Annay’s mouth to shut her up, wrapped another around her neck to choke her out, and waited impassively as she slumped to the floor.

  Peter glanced down at Annay’s unconscious body, still partly encased in ice. Shutting up Annay now wouldn’t prevent the Kree from finding, apprehending, and eventually interrogating her. If they wanted to keep this mess under wraps, they needed to get her out of the building.

  “I am Groot!”

  Thud.

  “Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about you,” Peter muttered, thinking through his options. With the Kree racing up the stairwell, and the force field weakening with each impact, he had zero time. The Grootling would break through within a minute.

  D’ast. Peter’s totally thought-out plan maybe wasn’t so thought-out after all.

  Unless—

  He glanced at the broken window they’d entered through.

  Gamora raised an eyebrow, catching on. “You sure?”

  “I am Groot!”

  The Grootling’s pace had been inconsistent, sometimes hitting the force field several times in the space of a few seconds, other times pausing as though he needed to gather his strength. He’d even stumbled once, the same way the other weakened Grootlings did.

  What had been consistent was the fury in his voice. He wouldn’t hesitate to attack. In an enclosed space like this, with a hallway soon to be full of Kree, his spores would cause a massacre.

  “I’m sure,” Peter said.

  “And her?” Gamora looked at Annay slumped by her feet.

  “Yup.”

  “Risky. Let’s do it.”

  “Rocket?” Peter said over comms. “We’re onto plan D.”

  “Yeah, sure, Quill. What the frick is plan D?”

  He grimaced. “Defenestration.”

  45

  I AM GROOT!”

  Thud.

  Gamora dropped Annay’s unconscious body near the window, then walked back, dusting off her hands.

  Peter activated his boots. He flew up as high as the hallway would allow and hovered over the conference-room doors, just above the force field. He kept his back to the wall, staying out of the Grootling’s sight.

  “I am Groot!”

  Thud.

  By now, the Grootling had to be rushing back, preparing for his next assault on the force field. Peter heard his footsteps, the scrape of wood on the floor.

  Peter didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t.

  But the Grootling’s cries of rage—that wasn’t like Groot.

  The way he mindlessly bashed the field—that wasn’t like Groot.

  The way he’d killed people…

  That really wasn’t Groot.

  Peter breathed deep, then nodded at Gamora. She watched the Grootling, ready to give the word to Rocket the second he was close enough to—

  “Go!”

  fzzt

  The Grootling lunged into the hallway. Without the force field to stop him, he overshot the doorway. He made a confused sound and windmilled another few feet, trying to slide to a stop.

  Peter didn’t give him the time.

  He swooped down toward the Grootling’s back, slung one arm around him, and held on tight, taking advantage of the Grootling’s momentum to pull them both forward. He screwed his eyes shut and averted his head. He pumped his boots as fast as they’d go, shoving the Grootling farther, feeling the prickle of the holo and the raw bark against his face.

  Please don’t fire off spores please don’t fire off spores please don’t—

  They reached the broken window.

  I’m sorry, Groot, he wanted to say, but that’d be nowhere near enough. The Grootling would never survive a fall from this height. Not in his weakened state.

  Peter let go of the Grootling, and abruptly turned back upright in midair. He hovered just inside the hallway, the Grootling two feet in front of him.

  “I am—” The Grootling teetered over the edge, trying to catch his balance.

  Peter readied himself to deliver the final kick. He found himself saying it anyway: “I’m sorry.”

  “—Groot—”

  The Grootling fell before Peter even reached him.

  For just a second there, he’d stopped trying to catch his balance. He had allowed himself to drop.

  And even though the Grootling’s words had been too twisted and slurred to translate, Peter knew one thing—

  Those last three words hadn’t sounded enraged. They had sounded almost like his friend.

  Groot? Peter thought.

  From deeper into the hallway, a sudden slam sounded. Muted voices. The Kree were right behind the door, about to break it down and spill into
the hall.

  “Quill—” Gamora warned.

  He shook off his confusion. Then he grabbed Annay under her arms, pulled her with him outside, and burst straight up.

  Toward the roof.

  GAMORA dropped to her knees and threw up her hands in surrender a fraction of a moment before the Kree broke into the hallway.

  Immediately, four Kree soldiers surrounded her, weapons pointed at her head.

  “That’s Gamora,” one breathed.

  Another four soldiers promptly joined the first four.

  Gamora kept her head dipped so as to seem harmless. She counted the soldiers by the sound of their footsteps and the glimpses she could see of their shoes. Twelve in total.

  She could take all them down in…25 seconds, she thought. Probably less, given how jittery they already were.

  But she kept herself still. The bulk of the job was done: Annay was no longer a threat, and the poison Grootling had been eliminated. There was no reason to antagonize the Kree any further. The Guardians could afford to be diplomatic and attempt to salvage a semi-friendly relationship.

  Even if it meant Gamora needed to kneel in a puddle of water left behind from the ice Quill’s gun had scattered around the hall.

  “Captain—Captain Ol-Varr…” the soldier continued, trying to keep her voice even. “What are your orders?”

  “May I speak?” Gamora said. She still did not look up. In her experience, people considered her less of a threat when she wasn’t looking at them.

  Some of the Kree had fanned out. She heard footsteps behind her, in the conference room. Others investigated the hallway. One Kree took decisive steps toward her. Captain Ol-Varr, no doubt.

  “The Supreme Elder Council?” he asked.

  “Alive. They’re in the elevator, currently on the…”

  “Ground floor,” Rocket said into her ear.

  “Ground floor. I helped the Council get to safety before one of the hostiles infiltrating the building could reach them. I’m on your side.”

  “Are you? There were supposed to be soldiers up here already. Instead, there’s a dead private in the hall.”

  Only one, Gamora thought. If it’d been me, there’d be a carpet of them.

  Her voice was neutral as she answered. “The reprogrammed security bots were responsible for that body. Ask Captain Mari-Kee; he’s one of hers. She’ll confirm. She and the other soldiers are in the second elevator. Unharmed.” Mostly.

  “Hm.”

  “May I stand?”

  “Couldn’t stop you if I wanted to, could I?”

  She would’ve shrugged, but the motion might set off the nervous soldiers around her.

  “Sure. Stand.” Captain Ol-Varr sighed. “You’re saying they were after the Council? Who is they? And where are they now?”

  “The who is a Flora colossus. He’s the same species as my teammate, Groot, although they are unrelated. A holo disguised this Flora colossus as a Kree private.” Slowly, Gamora rose to her feet, raising her hands high to keep the soldiers semi-comfortable. “I don’t know who he was working for or with. He was responsible for the incident at the park today. He could shoot out poison spores. He was the main threat, so we focused on him instead of possible accomplices.”

  It was a half-truth. But identifying the attacker as an offshoot of one of the Guardians’ own members—well, that wouldn’t help anything.

  “Okay, that’s the who,” Captain Ol-Varr said. “And the where?”

  Gamora pointed at the window with one raised hand. A small gesture. It was enough for a soldier to her right to suck in a breath and tighten his grip on his weapon.

  He didn’t shoot. He’d been close, though. Gamora glanced at him sideways and raised one eyebrow.

  “You’re saying you tossed this creature outside?” Captain Ol-Varr looked between her and the window.

  “Yes. You should be able to see his body on the ground. He may still be wearing the holo.”

  “That’s funny. Because I just looked down there, and I didn’t see any body. No blood, either. Not even splinters.”

  Gamora looked up sharply. She’d seen the Grootling go over the edge. If he wasn’t down there…

  She decided to give up coddling Ol-Varr’s twitchy little soldiers. She shot up from the floor and kicked off from the wall. A moment later she stood at the edge of the hall, looking down through the open window.

  Behind her, two shots went off. They hit the wall or floor, judging from the sound of their impact. Captain Ol-Varr barked a reprimand.

  Amateurs.

  She studied the ground, wind tugging at her hair.

  No holo-Kree body.

  No Grootling splinters.

  “Guys?” Gamora said, one hand raised to her earpiece. “We have a problem.”

  46

  THREE glass-tube walkways connected Porovi Hall, where Rocket had been working from, and Addil Hall, where Drax had helped evacuating the DiMavi prayer group from the basement and where Gamora and Quill had taken care of Annay.

  Right now, the one connecting the buildings’ fifth floors was most important. Rocket stood just inside Porovi Hall, looking down the fifth-floor walkway toward the other building.

  “That ain’t good.”

  In the center of the walkway, the ceiling had shattered, leaving it wide open to the air. Glass glittering in the sun lay scattered across the transparent floor.

  Something had crashed through.

  Someone had crashed through.

  Rocket crept down the walkway toward the gap in the ceiling. Wind soared inside and ruffled his fur. He looked up toward Addil Hall, squinting against the sun. Up there: One window was missing. That had to be where the Elder Council had been located.

  By now, Gamora would’ve been able to shake off the Kree attempting to interrogate her. Quill was zipping through the air between the buildings, running every scan he could to find the Grootling. He’d just come from the roof, where he’d cuffed and secured the still-unconscious Annay. They needed to keep her out of sight from the Kree until the Guardians could pick her up.

  If the Grootling had fallen straight down from that missing window, he’d have smashed into a thousand pieces on the surface below. Somehow he must have directed the fall instead. Maybe used his vines to shove himself away from the building, toward the walkway.

  Rocket’s boots crunched on broken glass. He kicked it aside, sifting through it. He found nothing more than two snapped-off branches and a few pieces of bark. The fall had damaged the Grootling, but he’d gotten right back up again. He could’ve escaped into either one of the buildings. Heck, he could even have climbed back up through the hole in the walkway and somehow made it to the ground.

  They’d lost him.

  They’d lost him even worse than before, in fact. Now they had no idea where he might be headed.

  “Great job, Quill,” Rocket growled. “Fan-tas-tic.”

  “Yeahhhh, my bad,” Quill said. “Now let’s go find him.”

  GAMORA sped through the hallways of Addil Hall. If the Grootling was inside, he was likely still in disguise. That meant he could easily blend in with the Kree soldiers occupying the building.

  Gamora had seen the Grootling sacrifice himself, before Quill could kick him out the window. But even if the Grootling had temporarily broken through the brainwashing, it clearly hadn’t stuck. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying so damn hard to stay out of the Guardians’ sight.

  “Has anyone been in touch with Kiya or the other Grootlings?” Quill asked, his voice clipped through the comms system.

  “Why?” Gamora didn’t slow down. She yanked open doors, searching office after office.

  “Because I’m outside and seeing our ship approach the courtyard, and the rest of us are accounted for. Hang on, let me—Kiya?”

  After a few moments, her voice came through, sounding hesitant. “Is this a bad time to talk?”

  “Very,” Rocket said instantly.

  “I am Groot!” a voice chirru
ped on Kiya’s end.

  Other Grootlings on the ship agreed: “I am Groot! I am Groot.”

  “We have lost the poison Grootling,” Drax said. “We do not know his location, what he is doing, or which commands he may still be following. In addition, the evacuations are nearly complete and the security system nearly defeated, which will allow the Kree military to focus fully on hampering our efforts.”

  “Yeah, we’re doing great,” Rocket said.

  “However, none of it prevents us from talking,” Drax finished.

  “What’s going on, Kiya?” Gamora asked.

  “I’m near Porovi,” she said, her words rushed. “I’m flying the ship. The Collector came and I didn’t know what else do to do and—”

  “The Collector?” Rocket said. “What? How? How’d he find you?”

  “Are you okay?” Gamora asked.

  “Are the Groots okay?” Rocket went on.

  “I am Groot,” a Grootling answered assuringly.

  “Is the Collector following you?” Drax asked.

  “No, I threw him from the ship when we were right inside city limits, but—”

  “You what? Awesome,” Quill said. “I need you to stay close. Keep an eye on the courtyard. If you see the Grootling, let us know immediately. He might still have a Kree holo on, but if not… Rocket, tell her how to hover the ship in place. We may need a sudden escape.”

  They went silent, switching to a private channel. Gamora was glad: She didn’t need to hear Rocket giving the girl a none-too-patient blow-by-blow on how to switch from autopilot to manual without crashing into the crowd. She was already struggling to direct her mind away from the thought of the Collector coming for Kiya. How had he found her? Maybe Ka-Lenn had managed to contact the Collector, but he couldn’t have known the ship’s location.

  Annay had known, though.

  And she would’ve wanted them distracted.

  Gamora’s jaw tightened. She needed to focus. “Quill. I don’t think the Grootling is inside Addil Hall.”

  “I cannot find the Grootling in Porovi Hall, either.” Drax sounded displeased.

  “The Kree are keeping a close eye on everyone passing through. They would’ve noticed if a lone private unable to speak in full sentences came by.”

  “He’s probably out here.” Quill said. “In this mess he’d blend in easily. Oh—crap. Be riiight back.”