One More Trigger Pt 20 (Patreon)

Vista pulled off her gag. “Woo hoo!” she shouted, hugging a surprised-looking Madison. “That was awesome!”

The reason for her excitement was not hard to discern; each of the team, members and liaisons alike, carried a brightly-wrapped brick, a 'prize'. Despite the concerted efforts of the Dad Brigade, the team had made it out of the maze in short order on their very first try, mainly due to clever use of their powers.

“Who's the champions?” Lisa chanted, executing an impromptu dance, holding her brick above her head. “We are, that's who. Gimme an S -”

Taylor cleared her throat. “Don't get too excited,” she warned the three newcomers to the team. “I'm guessing there's gonna be more. I mean, yeah, we're used to doing the Three Wise Monkeys. Lisa, you did okay, even with her ears plugged. Vista, you couldn't talk, but that didn't hamper you all that much either. And Amy's power doesn't depend on sight.”

She gestured in the direction of her father, who was just now coming their way. “But now that they've gotten a line on your powers and how we work together, this is likely to get a lot harder.”

“That's correct, ladies,” Danny observed as he approached. “Not to take anything away from your victory here, because it was a victory. But in order for you to learn, we've got to make it hard for you. You've got to be forced to think, to adapt, to come up with new ideas to get around problems. Too many parahumans out there simply coast on their abilities, until they meet someone who's better at improvising than they are.”

Vista grinned. “Bring it. You'll probably kick my ass a dozen times, but if it helps me be a better part of the team, I'll do it.”

“Whoa, seriously?” asked Amy. “You're that ready to jump into this level of training? I felt as though I couldn't even keep up. Stumbling around blind was no fun at all.”

Emma smiled. “You'll get used to it. A couple weeks from now, you'll be wondering how you ever got on before.”

Lisa shook her head. “Yeah, but I'm getting the impression that 'a couple weeks from now' is going to be a very long way away. Your dads look like they mean business.”

Taylor grinned. “Oh, trust me, they do. They really, really do.”

Danny nodded. “That's correct. Paintballs might sting, but they deliver a lesson. Don't get shot. And it's a lot easier to get over than being shot for real.” He nodded at the girls. “Take ten, then hit the running track. And Vista?”

The Ward's head came up. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled. “'Danny' or 'Mr Hebert' will do. When you're on the running track, you run. Don't cheat, don't squeeze space. Or you'll be doing it backwards. Got me?”

She grinned broadly. “Message received loud and clear, Mr Hebert. No cheating on the running track.”

“Excellent.” He clapped his hands twice. “Ten minutes start now. Refreshments are that way, changing rooms are that way, running track is that way. Go.”

The six girls trotted off toward the refreshment tent, expressions ranging from excited to dubious; Danny watched them go, then headed back to where the other two adults waited.

“So how did they take it?” asked Clements, dragging a cleaning cloth through the barrel of his paintball gun.

“About as well as could be expected,” Danny reported. “Amy's not thrilled, but she's bearing up under the strain. Lisa's really worried; I think she has an idea of how hard we're going to go at them.”

And Vista?” asked Alan Barnes, peering at a map of the maze and making notations.

Danny rolled his eyes. “She more or less dared us to do our worst,” he told them. “She fully expects to get hammered. But she really wants to learn from this.”

Alan nodded. “Good. She's a good kid. Earnest.”

“Outgoing,” added Rod Clements, sighting down the barrel of his gun. “Friendly. Madison likes her. I think Director Piggot did us a real favour when she picked Vista to do this. We could've done a lot worse.”

“Well then,” declared Danny, “let's return the favour, and train Vista to work well in adverse conditions.” He paused. “Now, Lisa's so damn intuitive that even putting a blindfold on her won't hurt her all that much. So how do we hold her back without totally hobbling her?”

“I've had thoughts about that,” Alan told him. “Gag her, so she can't tell everyone what's going on. Earplugs, so she has to look around all the time. And goggles, so while she can see, it destroys her peripheral vision, and ensures she has to concentrate on one thing at a time.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, that should work. If it hurts her too much, we take the goggles away. Or the gag. And the others?”

“Blindfold for Vista,” Clements suggested. “If she can't see, she has to rely on others to tell her where to fold space, and how much.”

“Thus forcing them to communicate and cooperate,” agreed Danny. “Amy?”

The problem of Amy Dallon was a very real one. Her only real benefit to the team, at the moment, was as someone who could heal their injuries. Being blindfolded, made to stumble around the maze with the others, had not done her any favours. There were no powers that she could bring to bear to overcome such disadvantages.

Alan Barnes was the first to speak. “Nothing. Let her be the only one who can see, hear and speak. Make her valuable, over and above the 'healing'. But she can't carry a 'prize'.”

Rod Clements broke in. “Make it so she is a prize. If she doesn't make it out, the team loses.”

Danny grinned. “I like it. So one or more of the team has to stay with her, to protect her, but she won't hold them back.”

“Then we're agreed, gentlemen?” asked Alan Barnes rhetorically. He held out his fist. The other two touched their fists to it. “Let's go make our daughters' lives a living hell.”

<><>

“Oh … god,” gasped Lisa, staggering along the running track. “This … revenge for … doing that … victory dance … right?” Sweat ran down her face, and she was unsteady on her feet.

“Not really,” Madison told her, trotting alongside with little to show for the exertion. “They just like us to be fit.”

Vista nodded. “I get a bit of exercise,” she panted, “but Mr Hebert was right. I cheat too much.” While not in the same state Lisa was, she had definitely worked up a sweat.

Amy didn't speak at all; she wasn't sweating or panting quite as badly as Lisa, but she plodded along, putting one foot in front of the other.

Footsteps came from behind them, moving fast, and then Taylor came past Madison, slapping her on the shoulder. “Tag!”

At the cue, Madison took off running, just as Emma passed her at a dead sprint. Taylor slowed to a jog alongside the other three. “How you guys going?”

Lisa gave her a dirty look, while Vista nodded. “Getting along. I think I need more of this.”

Taylor chuckled. “You're really a glutton for punishment, aren't you?”

Vista grinned at her. “If it makes me a better superhero – hell yes.”

Taylor nodded. “Excellent. Well, I just saw Dad give me the high sign. One more lap, and we can pull up for a little bit.”

They plodded on around the track, encouraged on by Taylor, and then by Emma, after she tagged Taylor. Then Madison came past, in hot pursuit of the longer-legged Taylor.

“So do you … do this all the time?” panted Vista, as they came around the last turn and slowed to a stagger. Taylor and Madison were already waiting at the side of the track for them.

“Most weekends, yes,” Emma confirmed. “We also go running in the mornings. Taylor's the best runner out of us, but we all do our best to keep fit.”

“Oh god,” groaned Lisa hollowly. “If the villains don't kill us, the training will.” She made it as far as the refreshment tent, then collapsed into a folding chair, arms hanging over the side. “Can someone get me something cold to drink? I don't think I can move right now.”

Amy obliged her, pouring her a cup of juice before flopping into her own chair. “Wow. That's the farthest I've run in … forever.”

Vista sipped at her own juice; it was tart and chilled, and altogether delicious. “I have to admit, this is more strenuous than we get in the Wards.”

Alan Barnes strolled into the tent. “Don't get too comfortable, ladies. Ten minutes, then back into the maze.”

Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.

“Oh god,” muttered Amy. “Please tell me you're kidding.”

Lisa shook her head. “He's not kidding. God help us all.”

Vista grinned. “Excellent.”

Lisa shook her head, staring now at Vista. “You're crazy.”

Taylor, reclining in her own chair with her feet up on a second one, raised an eyebrow. “Since when do villains ever let heroes get a breather between fights?”

Lisa's look of horror merely intensified.

<><>

When they exited the tent, ten minutes later, Danny Hebert frowned and turned to Alan Barnes. “Is it just me, or are they not looking all that tired?”

“You know,” Emma's father replied, “I do believe that you are correct. They're all looking refreshed. Apart from Amy.”

Danny drew a deep breath. “I think I know what's happened. Excuse me a second.”

He strolled over to the approaching teens, all of whom seemed to be in good spirits. “Girls.”

“Dad,” grinned Taylor. “Amy had a great idea.”

“So I see,” he replied, observing Lisa and Vista. “She gave you a boost, didn't she?”

Amy raised her hand. “It was kind of my idea,” she confessed. “And I was kind of cheating on the track. Still am, in fact.”

“Huh,” muttered Lisa. “I thought there was something going on there.”

Danny folded his arms. “Cheating, huh? What are you doing? I thought you couldn't affect your own body.”

Amy shook her head. “I can't. But I can make bacteria in my throat produce oxygen at a far greater rate than normal.”

Lisa grinned. “I'd complain about so totally unfair, but I'm feeling too good right now.” She punched Amy lightly in the shoulder. “And all because of you.”

Danny nodded judiciously. “Well, it's a valid tactic. You'll have to give it up, once you've improved your wind, of course. Having your powers nullified is a thing, after all.” He gestured toward the table near the entrance to the maze. “Your accoutrements, ladies.”

Lisa shook her head. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

Vista grinned at her. “I dunno. You're the one who chose to join the team.” Madison raised a hand; Vista high-fived her.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “A decision I might be starting to regret.”

<><>

“Ow.” Lisa rubbed her bruises. “Ow. Ow. Ow.”

The light was beginning to go; the sun was low in the west. The six teenagers stumbled away from the maze, toward the refreshment tent.

“That went well,” declared Taylor. “I think we were really starting to get it together at the end, there.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vista. “We got our asses handed to us.”

Emma shook her head. “We weren't there to beat the maze. We were there to learn how to work together.”

“Which we did,” Madison added. “Right at the end there, we really had it together.” She held up her hand; Vista gave her another high-five.

Amy turned to Lisa. “How are you feeling?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Sore. Mr Clements is really mean.” She rubbed her butt to illustrate. Several large and colourful splotches of paint decorated it. She was by no means the only one.

Emma nodded. “Well, you would keep going off plan. Separate yourself from the group, we can't protect you.”

“In the real world,” Lisa pointed out sourly, “there's not someone waiting around the corner with a paintball gun, ready to pop you if you put a foot wrong.”

“In the real word,” Taylor echoed her cheerfully, “if you get it wrong, you don't often get a second chance.”

Lisa stuck her tongue out at her.

<><>

An Alley in the Docks

The man had been staked to the ground with spikes through ankles and wrists. Then someone had carefully burned him to death. The look on his face suggested that he had been alive and aware, right up to the end.

Miss Militia looked him over dispassionately, only wrinkling her nose when the odour of burned flesh drifted her way. Then she looked at the next body, hanging on the wall of the alleyway.

“Nailed up with glass shards,” the forensic tech announced needlessly. “Poor guy was skinned, probably still alive, with something really sharp.”

“A glass blade?” she suggested.

He glanced up at her. “Not outside the realms of possibility,” he admitted. “Skin spread out to meet the arms. Also nailed into place with slivers of glass.”

Miss Militia rubbed her chin. “A theme, then,” she murmured. Frowning, she squinted at the second corpse. “Is it just me, or does that look almost like … wings?”

The tech also frowned. “I guess?”

“Hm.” She moved to look at the third body, that of a woman. She had been … broken. Every bone in her body had been shattered, and she had been then balled up and wrapped in metal straps, forming a roughly spherical shape. Hannah could not tell whether she had died as a result of the process, or had been dead before it began. For the woman's sake, she hoped for the latter.

She walked in a semi-circle around the three bodies, careful not to disturb the techs, examining them from every angle. There was something disturbingly familiar about these deaths. Something that she was missing.

“You think the same guy did all these?” asked the tech, as he unrolled a body bag next to the first corpse.

Miss Militia shook her head. “No. Is there any trace of accelerant on that one?”

The tech sniffed, then immediately looked as though he wished that he hadn't. “Uh, no. But I just decided never to eat roast pork again.”

“Sorry,” Hannah told him, not really meaning it. She had bigger things to worry about. “So it's a power thing, not any sort of flamethrower that did this?”

The tech shrugged. “Maybe a tinker-tech device. But no, probably a power.”

Miss Militia nodded. “Thanks. You guys can take it from here?”

The tech nodded. “We can deal.”

“Fine. Let me know what you come up with in the lab.” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and strode out of the alley, pulling her phone from her belt.

<><>

PRT Building, Brockton Bay

Emily Piggot picked up the phone on the second ring. “Piggot.”

“Director, it's Miss Militia. I just found something disturbing in the Docks.”

“There are any number of disturbing things in the Docks, Miss Militia,” Piggot replied dryly. “I suggest you narrow the field a little.”

“A triple murder. Tell me if this doesn't sound at least a little familiar.” The hero paused for emphasis. “One person burned to death. Another person, skin spread out to resemble wings, nailed to a wall with glass shards. And a third person trapped in a metal ball. Or sphere.”

Emily Piggot had been Director of the Brockton Bay PRT for ten years. Over that time, she had read many, many files. But some things just stuck in the mind.

“Burned,” she replied slowly. “Glass wings. Sphere.”

The dread that sent a chill down her spine was anything but nameless.

“It sounds to me as though you're describing the work of Burnscar, Shatterbird and Mannequin.”

On the other end of the line, Miss Militia sighed. “I do so wish that I did not agree with you, Director.”

Piggot's lips thinned. “Any other bodies on site?”

“No. Just the three.”

“Well then, I'll put out feelers. See if there's been any other murders reported. Warn your people that the Nine are probably in town, but to keep it on the down-low. We don't want to cause a panic.”

“And when Shatterbird sings?”

Piggot knew exactly what would happen if and when Shatterbird decided to use her destructive cry. Every single piece of silicon-based material within her range would become shrapnel. Hundreds of people would die, perhaps thousands.

“If we warn the population, they may just decide to strike anyway.”

“If we don't warn them, they'll die when the Nine do decide to strike.”

Piggot drew a deep breath. “You have your orders.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Miss Militia hung up. Piggot slowly lowered the phone on to its cradle, then put her face in her hands.

There was no right answer. No matter what she did, people would die.

“Fuck,” she muttered to the empty air of her office. “Just one dilemma with an easy answer. Just one. Is that too hard?”

But there was no reply, and nor did she expect one.

<><>

Hebert Household

“Okay,” Danny began, “so tell me what you did right.”

The six chairs that normally resided around the kitchen table had been carried into the living room; the four members and two liaisons of the Samaritans were seated on them, while Danny and the other two Dads had taken their places on the couch.

“We kept together for the most part,” Taylor began. “Vista, Aerodyne, Emma and I managed air cover pretty effectively. Amy was good with keeping people 'healed'.”

“Lisa had a good idea for faking you guys out,” Amy spoke up unexpectedly. “If she'd been able to communicate it to everyone else, it might even have worked.”

“But instead,” Alan Barnes noted, “she didn't, and it got her shot.”

“Yeah,” muttered Lisa. “You guys are too good at what you do.”

Rod Clements shook his head. “We do as well as we can, because you're going to run into guys who aren't just trying to tag you with paintballs. We can't afford to slack off, to give you an easy win. You can't afford it.”

“He's right,” Vista agreed. “The better they are at making us think on our feet, the better we'll be in the field.”

“But I couldn't talk to you guys,” protested Lisa. “How was I supposed to get the idea across?” She paused, then slapped her forehead. “Of course. Hand signals.”

“We've got a basic set worked out,” Emma acknowledged. “We can spend a couple of hours getting you familiarised with them.”

Vista grinned. “I've already been talking to Madison about them,” she noted. “They're pretty cool.”

Lisa made a face at the Ward. “Kiss-ass,” she muttered, but there was no heat to it.

Amy put her arm around Lisa's shoulders, and squeezed; Lisa looked a little startled, but didn't protest.

Just about then, Vista's phone went off. “Huh,” she murmured, retrieving it. “Sorry, I set it to only accept priority calls.”

Alan Barnes waved a hand. “Take it,” he advised. “We can take five, here.”

Getting up, Vista strolled out into the entrance hall as she answered the call.

“So, Lisa, Amy,” Danny commented. “Both of you had a pretty rough time today. I know that the first day of training is tough on everyone, but I want you to know that we weren't being nasty on purpose.”

“Well, except maybe a few times,” Rod Clements interjected with a grin.

“Be that as it may,” Danny overrode him, “if either of you has any reservations about staying in the Samaritans, now's the time to bring them up. Because tomorrow's gonna be even tougher.”

Amy shook her head. “For the first time I'm part of a team that wants me for me. That accepts me, and doesn't judge me for who my parents might or might not be. It's tough, sure. I'll do my best to hack it. I'm staying.”

Lisa drew a long breath. “Well, I might bitch and moan, but most of it's hot air.” She paused, expectantly. “Anyone? Anyone? Come on, that's a perfect opening.”

“Consider that it was taken, someone made a comment, and we moved on,” Danny commented dryly. “You had more to say?”

Lisa nodded. “Yeah. I had a shitty day today. But I had it with friends. People who've let me move on from what I did before, and who are actually supporting me in what I'm doing now. Not to mention, the whole Coil thing.” She shrugged. “So yeah, I'll bitch and moan and complain. But I'm in it for the long haul.” She put her arm around Amy's shoulders in turn. “With my friends.”

“Well spoken,” Alan Barnes noted. “So what -”

He broke off when Vista came back into the room from the entrance hall. Carefully, she found her chair and sat down in it. Under her visor, her face was white as chalk.

“Holy shit,” Madison exclaimed. “I don't have to be Lisa to know there's something wrong. What happened, did someone die?”

Vista took a long shuddering breath. “I – I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you guys, but they didn't tell me not to, so here goes.”

She paused.

“They think the Slaughterhouse Nine are in Brockton Bay.”

Part 21