71. Plaza (Patreon)

More and more water accumulated underfoot, until they splashed through ankle-deep puddles. Clutching his arm, Rowan stared at the sky and wished for the rain to end. The cut’s never going to close like this.

Ikara glanced over. “Is it still bleeding?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Rowan muttered.

Ikara drew out a needle and a thin, pale thread. “Hold your arm out and stand still.”

He obeyed, pausing under the rain.

Her eyes narrowed. She thrust the needle, and her hands blurred. Seconds later, thread bound the wound shut, stitching it tightly.

“Whoa,” Rowan muttered. The pain hit a second later, and he flinched back and covered his arm again.

“The thread is sterile and I keep sterilized needles on hand, just in case, but if it gets infected, you’ll need to see someone.” Ikara tossed the needle over her shoulder.

“Still, thanks. It’s better than bleeding out in the middle of a Scenario.”

She smiled and nodded.

Rowan glanced up, where a flicker of white appeared momentarily over the edge of the building. “Kaidu killed Blue, didn’t he.”

Nervous, Ikara nodded.

Rowan sighed. “I—I guess we already did, leaving those men to the Tower, but… I still can’t…” He looked down at his hands and clenched them into fists. I still can’t justify killing in cold blood to myself. Not even for someone like Red.

“If we don’t kill, they might come back and kill us. Red was trying to kill us, too. If we fight without killing, we’ll only end up in more danger,” Ikara reasoned.

“I know. It’s just…”

Ikara nodded silently.

Ahead, the street opened up into the plaza. The ruined fountain laid crushed before them, gushing water, the source of the deepening puddles. Rowan lifted his foot to step into the plaza when a familiar voice sounded to his right. He jumped and grabbed Ikara, ducking back against the wall.

“What?” Ikara whispered.

Rowan held a finger to his lips and leaned up against the wall, listening.

“…the hacker is here. I’ve seen signs. Send Enforcers!” Jude insisted.

Enforcers? For little old me? Rowan shivered. Though ‘seen signs’ is a hell of a way to say ‘I’ve seen his clones around.’

There was a pause. A dull sound, like punching something. Through his teeth, Jude replied, “Thank you, but no, this isn’t like when I ‘took care’ of that small-potatoes baby hacker, thanks for bringing that failure up again. This is the real deal. She’s here.”

She? Alright, he isn’t talking about me. No, I’m the small-potatoes baby hacker, aren’t I? But then… who’s she? A name came to mind, and he furrowed his brows. Lou? She did do some weird stuff, but… was it really hacking?

“Evidence? Your staff can’t even locate her, how am I supposed to find evidence—” Jude fell silent, a frustrated buzz hanging in the air. “Fine. Alright. So you’re useless? Thanks.”

Silence, then a muffled scream and a flurry of unseen motion. “Fucking useless office staff—”

A door opened. “Jude, are you ready?” Lancelot asked.

“Of course, whenever you are,” Jude replied smoothly, composed as if he hadn’t been cussing someone out moments ago.

A chill crept up Rowan’s spine. Forcibly, he dismissed it, but still narrowed his eyes in Jude’s direction. Jude’s a creepy motherfucker.

“Do we have a plan to deal with it yet?” Lancelot asked.

Jude sighed. “Unfortunately… I have nothing.”

Ikara nudged him away from the wall. Glancing at him, then flicking her eyes in the direction of Jude and Lancelot’s voices, she whispered, “Clones, we need to be clones.”

Right. Rowan followed her lead and strode out from the wall, joining the masses of emotionless passerby. Fewer wandered the streets now than they had earlier, but he and Ikara still blended right in. With now-practiced slightly mechanical motions, they stepped out into the plaza.

Jude and Lancelot stood in the door of a Safe Haven to their right, watching Terry poke his way through clones to the far side of the ruined fountain. Rowan nudged Ikara subtly to the left, avoiding the middle of the plaza. The Trapper—Jeff—trapped the center of the plaza before, and I don’t want to swing too close to Terry. Best if we skate along the outside.

A clone of himself passed by, and Rowan cast his eyes in its direction longingly. If only we were alone. I could use a few more points.

Ahead, an alley provided a quick exit from the plaza. Ikara quietly tugged Rowan’s apron toward it, and they both turned out of the plaza. The water underfoot grew deeper, almost knee-deep. Rowan sloshed through it as if it wasn’t there, wishing he could high-step or jog through to the other side. Clones have it rough.

“Oh-hoh-hoh, isn’t that a familiar face?”

A red circle lit up under the water. Rowan’s body froze. Beside him, Ikara stopped as well, mid-stride. He turned his eyes and caught a panicked look from her, the whites of her eyes all showing.

Jeff strode out of the shadows, hands in his pockets. “What was the name of that town again? I can’t for the life of me remember. White Springs, maybe? I remember the mayor’s name. Boss Tammy, wasn’t it? You were the precious little girl who stitched up our shirts for us. What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?”

Oh fuck. Oh, we’re so fucked. Rowan flicked his eyes at Ikara, silently messaging for her to stay still, stay silent. Maybe he only recognized her clone. Maybe we can bluff our way out of this still.

Jeff sighed, a grin on his face. “Son, it’s cute that you think I don’t know, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pair of clones nudge each other back and forth the way you lovebirds’ve been doing.”

Shit. Rowan fought against the binding, but the invisible force held him tight. Even the added stat points did nothing to help him break through. How high level is Jeff? No one’s been able to break free that I’ve seen, not even the Hero’s party.

“Let us go! We don’t have any points,” Ikara said.

“Nice try, but I’ve got you right here on the leaderboard. Says you’ve got nearly three hundred points. Three hundred! Good going, for a bunch of support classes. So why don’t you kindly hand them over to your Uncle Jeff?”

“Never!” Ikara spat.

Beneath them, the water began to swirl. White froth splashed around as a whirlpool formed around them.

“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Your call,” Jeff threatened.