It Gets Worse Pt 6 (Patreon)

Miami, Florida
01:13 AM

It started as a minor weather system that came together off the coast, then rolled in over land. There wasn't much to it; a little rain fell, while thunder rumbled overhead. One bolt of lightning crackled down out of the heavy clouds, hitting a power-line transformer. The transformer weathered the strike easily, but an electrical surge went out in all directions. Circuit breakers popped in a dozen different locations, including the refrigeration area of a local airline meal supplier.

The refrigeration units shut down, but due to poor programming of the computers controlling the facility, no alarm was sent and no fault was logged. Three hours later, the automated system reset the breakers and the refrigeration units hummed to life once more. By the time the human workers arrived on site, everything was back the way it had been, with nothing in the logs to show that anything out of the ordinary had happened. But certain foodstuffs had spent several hours at room temperature, with the expected result.

In the meantime, the rain had spread up the coast. Weather forecasters on the morning shows would note that it was going to be bumpy flying on the eastern seaboard today.

<><>

Brockton Bay
08:06 AM
Danny

He had been at work for all of half an hour before the phone rang; he picked it up. “Dockworkers Association. Danny Hebert speaking.”

“Mr Hebert, we spoke last night.” The voice was all too familiar.

“And I've still got nothing to say to you except 'no'.” Danny kept his voice low. “Pursuant to that, I'd like to add 'hell no' and 'go fuck yourself' as well.”

“Mr Hebert, I'd like to point out that I've been authorised to increase the gratuity to ten thousand dollars.” He had to admit, the man was good. His voice was warm and persuasive, and Danny was almost tempted. But 'almost' wasn't good enough.

“Go to hell.” He put the phone down.

There was a freedom, he found, in being able to deny another person something they wanted from you, something that you did not want to give. Could he do with ten thousand dollars? Of course he could. But could he accept the inevitable strings that would slowly, inexorably, invisibly enmesh him into tighter and tighter coils if he allowed this first bribe to go through?

The answer, of course, was 'no'.

Part of it was his own personal pride, while another part was his need for the Dockworkers to remain the same honest association that they had been in his father's day. A third part, perhaps most important of all, was what Taylor would think of him if she knew he had taken a bribe, looked the other way to allow criminals to act with impunity within the Association.

Taylor …

He hadn't been a total idiot about it, of course. On leaving the offices the previous night, he had taken along a heavy wrench that someone had left in the corner. Nobody had been waiting in the parking lot or in the back seat of his car; he had seen enough slasher movies to at least know to check there before getting into the car.

Taylor had been asleep on the sofa when he got in; woken up, she had eaten dinner with him then stumbled her way up to bed. He had also gone to bed after the washing up, though he had lain awake for a while, going over the implications of the night-time visitor.

Adamson was connected, of course. He wasn't Asian, so it wasn't to the ABB. Likewise, Danny somehow didn't think it was the Merchants. So it had to be the Empire Eighty-Eight that was trying a move on the Dockworkers. They had tried bribery; he had turned them down. Would they turn to violence next?

Violence against himself he could deal with. If they beat him up, the police would become involved, something that they most definitely did not want. But if they tried to use Taylor as leverage against him …

He had only seen a minor demonstration of Taylor's power at first hand. The images of Emma and Madison and Sophia following their attempts to prank her were quite compelling; he found himself praying that the power would be able to protect her just as thoroughly against the new threat as it had against the bullies. Because if I cave once, I'll have to cave again, and again, until it becomes habit. And then what sort of a man, what sort of a father, will I be?

He had wrestled with the problem until his thoughts became dreams, where he literally wrestled with a shadowy figure who sneered Taylor's name over and over. These dreams were shattered by his morning alarm; he awoke, tangled in his sheets, covered in sweat. Taylor had been a little puzzled by his insistence on driving her to school, but had accepted readily enough. He would pick her up from there as well, just in case …

“Mr Hebert? Did you hear what I just said?”

With a start, he shook himself and looked up into Louise's concerned face. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Had a rough night. Must have drifted off.”

She shook her head wisely. “Staying at the office all hours to catch up on paperwork doesn't help either, Mr Hebert. Plus your home troubles. How's your girl doing?”

“Uh, fine, Louise, thanks,” he replied. “She's recovering quickly.” Standing up, he stretched, feeling the vertebrae popping. “I think I'll get a cup of coffee.”

“I think that might be a good idea, Mr Hebert,” she agreed. “After all, we can't have you falling asleep on the job.”

“No, Louise, we certainly can't.” He took the papers from her hand and placed them on his desk. “And I'll look at these just as soon as I get back with the cup.”

“Just so long as you go home at a regular hour tonight,” she ordered him sternly. “You need to be a father to your girl as well, you know.”

“I think you're right,” he said. “I really do.”

<><>

Director Piggot

She stood in Armsmaster's workshop, trying hard not to look as though she was peering over his shoulder at the computer screen, even though that was exactly what she wanted to do.

“So, is it working?” None of the uncertainty or doubt that had crept into her mind over the previous night was allowed to show in her voice. It will work, she told herself. It has to.

“Interestingly enough, Director, it is.” Armsmaster's voice held wary respect. “How did you know?”

A wintry smile formed on her face. “You may have forgotten that I was once a line grunt. Bad soldiers might hide their bad habits, but they keep a stash somewhere of whatever it is. The dumb ones hide it in their lockers or in the barracks. The smart ones hide it elsewhere, some place they can get to without raising suspicion.”

“Which for her is the whole city,” he noted.

“It is,” she agreed. “But she has to carry her Wards phone. And that phone has a GPS tracker, which logs her location on a regular basis. Normally it takes quite a bit of work to scrape those locations out and apply them to a map, but you're a Tinker who works with electronics and computers. And you say it's working?”

“It is,” he confirmed. “There's a limit to the number of locations that it's stored, but there's enough of them to give us a place to look. It's a building about three blocks from here. She's stopped in there enough times over the last few weeks to make it look fairly suspicious.”

Piggot's smile showed her teeth. “Good.”

<><>

Taylor

It was kind of weird to not have to worry about Emma and her cronies for once. I kept expecting them to pop around the corner with some new prank or hurtful comment. But Sophia and Emma were in the hospital and I hadn't seen Madison all day. A few of their cronies were around, but they were leaving me alone, which suited me just fine.

Head high, I joined the lunch line along with everyone else. Carefully, I made my selections; a pita wrap, a banana, a bottle of fruit juice. A container of chocolate pudding made up dessert; I took myself off to a table to enjoy my meal.

I wondered what the afternoon would bring. If it was more of the same, I could definitely deal with that. I could get used to this.

<><>

Aboard American Airlines Flight 732, Miami FL to Portland ME
01:46 PM

American 732 was an older aircraft, with the usual metal fatigue developing here and there on the airframe. None of it had, as yet, become problematic. However, after takeoff, the aircraft had flown into a region of unsettled weather, with higher than usual turbulence. This had shaken American 732 around a little; a hairline crack on the exterior toilet tank hatch had become somewhat more than hairline.

The passengers had, after takeoff, enjoyed their in-flight meals, such as they were. Unfortunately, this was followed by a certain amount of gastric distress, given that said meals had been improperly refrigerated over the previous night. Queues quickly developed outside each toilet cubicle; the waste products thus flowing into the toilet tanks were both voluminous and, it has to be said, runny.

In the meantime, the pilot had decided to climb out of the turbulence; he asked for, and got, permission to gain altitude. The turbulence decreased dramatically, but this had two unforeseen effects. The first was that the outflow from the crack in the hatch was increased due to lower outside air pressure. The second was that the higher altitude resulted in lower temperatures; the blue liquid, comprised of water, disinfectant and human waste products, froze more quickly, adding layer upon layer to the mass already collecting beneath the tail of the aircraft.

As yet, this had not affected the performance of American 732. This would change.

<><>

Panacea

“And that should do it.” Panacea removed her hands from Sophia's shoulder. “All the breaks are fixed. You may have a mild concussion; I can't do anything about that. Any lasting muscular soreness may require rest and relaxation. Take it easy for a few days.”

The dark-skinned girl worked her shoulder. “Yeah, no, feels fine.” Grudgingly, she added, “Thanks.”

Amy shrugged slightly. “Don't thank me. This was a favour for your Director. Take care now.” She turned and exited through a gap in the curtains. Director Piggot was standing a short distance away; Amy joined her. “It's done,” she reported.

“I appreciate it,” the Director replied briefly.

“Normally I wouldn't come in for a single cape,” Amy pointed out. “But you told Mom it was important. Why?”

Piggot sighed. “We think she might be breaking the rules – and the law – in a big way. We need her on her feet to prove it one way or the other.” She gave Panacea a direct stare. “You don't talk about this to anyone.”

Amy shrugged. “I don't talk about what I do to anyone anyway. Did you need me for anything else?”

“No. That should be all.”

“Okay.” Amy headed off to where she was sure Vicky would be flirting with the most handsome doctor she could find. Because Vicky.

<><>

Danny

Snapping out of a light doze, he looked at the clock. 2:46.

“Damn it,” he muttered, standing up from his desk. He had meant to be gone by 2:30, to ensure that he got to the school in time to pick Taylor up. It was still possible to get there on time, but he'd have to push it.

“I'm heading out,” he told Louise on the way through the office, still shrugging into his jacket. “Picking up Taylor from school.”

“That's fine,” she replied, not looking up from her computer screen; her fingers barely paused on the keyboard. “Give her my best.”

“I will,” he promised, then turned and dashed out the door. Along the corridor he went, out through the outer doors and into the parking lot. His car was parked a little way away and he hurried through the ranks of vehicles to get to it. But when he got there, something seemed odd about it.

It took him a few moments to get it, but when he did, he swore violently. The back tyre had obviously been punctured; the car had settled in that direction.

Pretty sure I didn't do that coming in, he told himself, even as he opened the door and popped the trunk. Out came the spare and the jack; he worked like a madman, hoisting the car off the ground and removing the wheel nuts. The wheel came off and he fitted the spare into place, twirling the nuts back on with quick, jerky movements of his fingers.

He only took the time to make sure that the nuts were on reasonably tightly before tossing the tyre and spanner back into the trunk. Letting the jack down, he threw that in too and slammed the trunk. As he climbed back into the car, he carefully didn't check his watch. He didn't want to know how late he was going to be.

Oh god, Taylor, please wait for me.

The engine in the old car roared as he gunned it out of the parking lot, but then he had to brake to a halt for traffic. Interminable moments passed before a gap opened up; he fed the car some gasoline and accelerated into it.

<><>

Taylor

The bus rumbled away from the front of the school, bearing the last of the students from Winslow. With my bag over my shoulder, I shaded my eyes and looked around.

“Where's Dad?” I wondered out loud. “He said he'd be here.”

I turned to walk back to sit on the school steps and started slightly, because a man was standing there.

“I, uh, can I help you?” I asked, nervous despite myself. He can't hurt me. My power will stop him.

“Taylor?” he asked. “Taylor Hebert?”

I began to get a major creep-factor alarm right between my shoulder-blades. “Who wants to know?”

“Your dad sent me to pick you up. He said to say he was gonna be late.”

Yeah, right. This was about as believable as a three-dollar bill. “Sure he did. I think I'll wait right here, thanks.” I began to back away from him.

“No, seriously,” he insisted. “I'm Lee. Lee Adamson. I'm a Dockworker. I work for your dad.”

I began to reconsider my earlier judgement. Maybe I was a bit hasty. He had the look of a Dockworker, all right. “Uh, what's his secretary's name?”

“Louise,” he replied promptly. “And the carpet in his office is green. The visitor's chair has a wobbly leg.”

He was right about all those details. “Okay, Mr Adamson, looks like you're on the level. Let's go.”

“Great.” He looked relieved. “My car's just over here.”

I followed him to the car; he opened the driver's side door and got in. I walked around the car to get into the front passenger side seat, then paused as I saw that there was someone in the back seat. My creep-factor alarm started going off again, as the back door opened and the man got out.

I had never seen him before in person, but I recognised him easily enough. He wore no shirt; on one bicep he wore a tattoo of a wolf's head superimposed over a swastika. On the other, a letter and two numbers. E-8-8. Empire Eighty-Eight. Over his face, he wore a metal mask fashioned to look like a wolf's head.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered. “You're Hookwolf.”

“Correct.” His voice was a growl, made more echoing by the metal mask. “Now do as you're told and get in the fucking car.”

Rapidly, I sorted through the possibilities. If my powers were still holding firm, I could get away easily. If they weren't, then I would be quickly captured. Likewise, if I still had powers, going with them would not pose much of a risk to me. Without powers, going willingly would pose less of a risk than forcing them to catch me.

In any case, I was kind of curious as to how this would play out. So I did as I was told and got in the fucking car.

<><>

Sophia

"How are you feeling, Sophia? That was such a terrible accident. I'm so pleased that the PRT asked Panacea to heal your injuries."

Sophia forced herself not to snap back at her mother. I'm fine, don't smother me. But Mom did mean well, and what had happened wasn't her fault. So she manufactured a brave smile instead.

"I'll be fine," she replied. "But I'm still feeling a little headachey, so I think I might take a nap."

In fact, the headache was barely there at all; she could ignore that if she had to.

"All right, dear," her mother replied. "I'll knock on your door when it's dinner time."

"Oh, uh, I don't think I'll be very hungry," Sophia said hastily. "If I don't answer, I'll probably be asleep."

"I'll leave a plate in the fridge for you if that happens," Mom agreed comfortably. "I hope you feel better soon, dear."

Mumbling something by way of reply, Sophia climbed the stairs to her room, then closed and locked the door behind her. It was a bitch and a pain to keep her cape identity from her family – Mom knew but nobody else did – but in this kind of situation it paid off in spades.

Opening her wardrobe, she reached in to the back and pulled out a removable partition. Behind that was her original costume, the one she had pieced together long before she was forced to join the Wards. Her old crossbows were here too; she had kept them clean and oiled, just on the off-chance that she would need them someday. Finally, she retrieved a small case; opening it, she counted six arrows, their tips gleaming razor-sharp.

Carefully, she donned the costume, fitting the crossbows into their holsters. The case of arrows went on to her belt. Closing the wardrobe, she frowned. Right now, she had the perfect alibi.

Hebert has to die. Nobody does that to me and lives. But Hebert had some sort of bullshit luck thing going for her. She's lucky, but I'm good. All the same, I might need more arrows. That's fine; I'll raid my stash.

<><>

“Brockton Control, this is American 732. We're experiencing a pitch problem. Autopilot won't hold a constant altitude. Nose keeps creeping up, over.”

“Ah, roger on the pitch problem, American 732. Are you declaring an in-flight emergency, over?”

“Negative, Brockton. But if you could pass that on to Portland, let 'em know that we're gonna need all the runway they can give us, over.”

“Roger, American 732. We will be informing Portland that you are experiencing pitch problems. In the meantime, I see that you're in a higher altitude pattern than normal. Could the problem be caused by ice on your control surfaces, over?”

“That could be the problem, Brockton Control. We were assigned this altitude due to turbulence. What's the weather like down there, over?”

“American 732, we're having a nice warm winter's day. No turbulence to be seen. Turn to heading zero four zero and descend to Flight Level two zero zero, that's Foxtrot Lima two zero zero, see if that doesn't help with your problem, over.”

“Roger that, Brockton. Turning to zero four zero and beginning descent to Flight Level two zero zero, over.”

“I copy zero four zero and beginning descent to Flight Level two zero zero. Brockton Control out.”

<><>

Danny

The tires protested as Danny fishtailed the car into the Winslow parking lot. He screeched to a halt in a cloud of dust; the car was still rocking on its suspension as he jumped out and frantically looked around.

Taylor wasn't there.

"Taylor!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Taylor, where are you?"

No answer, save his own voice echoing back from the school frontage.

She got tired of waiting, so she took the bus.

It wasn't the only explanation he could think of, but it was the only one he was willing to entertain right then. "Taylor!" he called again.

She still wasn't there.

Trotting up to the front steps, he climbed them and tried the main doors, on the faint hope that she was waiting inside. They were locked. Cupping his hands around his eyes, he put his face up to the glass. The hallway within was empty.

She took the bus and she'll be waiting at home for me. He tried to convince himself of that as he headed back toward the car. It wasn't easy.

<><>

Taylor

"So what's this all about, anyway?" I asked brightly.

Kaiser looked around at me. Even if I hadn't been told who he was, the metal armour covering every inch of his body would have been a serious clue. Hookwolf stood nearby, but he wasn't the only other cape there. I didn't know the others by sight, but I could make educated guesses.

The young woman with scars here and there on her arms and face, wearing a kind of metal cage around her head, might be Cricket. The PHO boards had no solid information about her powers.

Menja and Fenja were easier to pick out; blonde Valkyries wearing metal armour with closed-faced helmets. One carried a sword and shield, the other a spear. I had no idea which one was which, but I knew they could grow to three storeys tall and got tougher the bigger they were.

The last cape wore no shirt, but he did have a blue and white tiger mask, which made him Stormtiger. Apparently he had air powers, including the ability to slash at people with claws made of the stuff. Of Purity and Rune, just to name two, there was no sign. I was kind of glad of that; my powers might be cool and all but there were limits.

"As I said earlier, young lady, the less you know about the business at hand, the better for you." His tones were cultured, though I thought I detected a slight impatience in his voice.

"Well, hey," I pointed out. "You're the villain, I'm the hostage, you've got me in your secret lair. Why not indulge in a little gloating? Reveal your master plan to me. Come on, you know you want to."

"I would hardly call you a hostage," he retorted, a little more strain showing in his voice. "It's not as if I'm going to be demanding a ransom for you." He gestured around at the airy loft, with the members of the Empire Eighty-Eight sitting or standing around as they chose. "And this is not what I would call a secret lair." Outside, the sound of jackhammering arose as a road repair crew set to work once more. Stormtiger went over to the window and peered down at the street, then shook his head and stepped away again.

I waited till the noise ceased. "Well, you've got me tied to a chair," I said, entirely reasonably, pulling briefly at the ropes binding me. "That says 'hostage' to me, loud and clear. Which reminds me. What if I need to go to the bathroom? Are you gonna carry me there, chair and all? Because let me tell you, that ain't gonna work."

Hookwolf was apparently possessed of far less patience than his boss. "Shut up!" he yelled at me. "Just shut the fuck up, will you?"

I poked my tongue out at him. "You shut up, Hookworm," I retorted. "I was talking to your boss, not you." A couple of the Empire capes chuckled, but I was suddenly seeing the wolfs-head mask from really close up.

"Say that one more time, little girl," he grated. "Just once." Freshly grown razor claws rested on my cheek; I felt the sting of the very tips as they broke the skin.

"Hookwolf." It was Kaiser's voice, low and controlled. "Step back."

"But she just won't shut up!" Even as he protested, the tattooed villain moved away from me. "It's driving me nuts!"

I wasn't quite sure where I was getting it from either. Once upon a time, I had been quite the chatterbox. That was before Emma had turned on me, had gone from being my best friend to my own personal nemesis. Isolated and ostracised, tormented at every turn, I'd had nobody my age to talk to and precious little to talk about.

But now it was back. My powers had done more than make me lucky, it seemed; they had also reawakened that part of me, which I had long thought dead and gone.

God, I hope my powers are still working. If one of them goes to hurt me, I'll never be able to stop them.

Kaiser turned to Lee Adamson, who was sitting nearby with a mobile phone. “Try the house again. He's got to show up there sooner or later.”

“Yes, sir.” Lee pressed the dial button once more. I gave him a glare, which he carefully ignored.

<><>

Danny

He wrenched open the door and stumbled inside. “Taylor?” he called out. “Taylor, are you home?”

Silence greeted him. It wasn't the silence of a house with someone asleep upstairs, but the silence of an empty house, one where nobody had been home since the morning.

“Taylor!” he called again, hopelessly. Oh god, I screwed up. I let them take Taylor.

And then the phone rang. The sudden noise was shocking in the silence; he jumped and stared at it. Again it rang, and again.

Jolting himself into motion, he lurched forward and wrenched the receiver off of the cradle. “Hello?” he croaked. “Taylor? Is that you? Are you all right?”

“Hello, Mr Hebert.” The voice wasn't one that he recognised. “Are you ready to talk business now?”

“Who are you?” he demanded. “Where's my daughter?”

“I'm the man who's got your daughter. That's all you need to know. She's safe and alive and well. Although a little bit mouthy.”

Danny took a deep breath. “Prove it.” Oh god, Taylor, please let your powers still be working.

There was a rustling sound, then Taylor's voice. “Dad?”

“Oh god, are you all right?”

She sounded positively chirpy over the phone. “Yeah, I'm fine. They've all been kind of polite about it. Except Hookwolf. He's a bit of a douche.”

There was shouting in the background, then another rustling sound. “Taylor? Taylor, are you there?”

“She's fine.” The man's voice was a little more strained. “I can't guarantee that she'll stay that way if she keeps mouthing off, though.”

“I knew you were Empire Eighty-Eight,” Danny accused him. “I'm guessing that I'm talking to Kaiser.”

“Very well, let us drop all pretence,” Kaiser agreed. “This is indeed an Empire Eighty-Eight operation. I have your daughter. You will reinstate Mr Adamson on your workforce and cease querying his activities; in return, you will get Taylor back unharmed. As an added incentive, I'll make sure you get the five thousand, plus another five thousand each month.”

In the background, he heard Taylor's voice. “Tell him to shove it, Dad!”

If Taylor believes that her powers are still working, then I have to believe also.

“Kaiser.” He kept his voice tightly under control. “I have a counter-offer. You release my daughter, right now, with apologies for the inconvenience, and we can both forget this ever happened. Don't release her, and I can't answer for what's going to happen to you.”

There was a long pause. “Was that a threat? Are you honestly threatening me?”

“No. That was a warning. Unless you release my daughter right now and back the fuck off from the Dockworkers, you seriously will not like the consequences.”

<><>

American 732 reached the prescribed altitude of Flight Level two zero zero, otherwise known as twenty thousand feet, as it passed over the mountains that barricaded Brockton Bay to the south. As promised, the air was a little warmer here, and of turbulence there was little compared to the rain squalls further south.

However, as the aircraft passed into the warmer air, the airframe expanded very slightly. This, combined with the added warmth and the greater wind resistance, managed to break the tenuous hold that the mass of ice had on the fuselage.

Within the aircraft, the passengers felt a peculiar jolt, coupled to a thrumming boom as the ice broke away. A few startled looks were exchanged, but nothing else happened.

Checking the controls, the pilots found that the aircraft was no longer trying to climb skyward, a consequence of having mass shifted to a point behind the centre of gravity. Everything seemed to be operating within specs, so they made note of the strange noise and went back to the serious business of getting their passengers to Portland on time.

Below the aircraft, the mass of blue ice, reinforced and added to by high-altitude ice particles picked up on the flight, began a ballistic arc toward the ground, far below.

<><>

Taylor

Kaiser took the phone away from his faceplate, which I could see now was perforated to allow him to speak properly. I couldn't see his expression, but his tone was one of disbelief. “The man thinks he can dictate terms to me. It's time we changed that attitude. Hookwolf.”

“Yeah?” The tattooed man slouched to a species of attention.

Kaiser pointed at me. “Can you make her scream without doing too much permanent damage?”

As with Kaiser, I couldn't see Hookwolf's face, but the sadistic sneer was easy to hear in his voice. “With the greatest of fucking pleasure.”

I watched as a blade, long and obviously very sharp, slid out of his forearm and ended up as a knife in his hand. He started toward me, Kaiser at his side.

“Now, Mr Hebert, listen very closely,” Kaiser purred into the phone. “This is what happens when men like you overreach themselves.”

“You don't want to do this,” I stated, a little more boldly than I felt. “This is a really bad idea. Trust me on this.”

Come on, powers. Come on. Please come on …

Behind me, Lee cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, hang on. You're not really gonna hurt her, are you?”

“Cricket.” Kaiser didn't even break step. “Make sure that Mr Adamson doesn't interfere.”

I tried to lock eyes with Hookwolf through his mask. “I'll say this one more time. This is a really bad idea for you.”

“Oh yeah?” he sneered. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

<><>

“Kaiser!” yelled Danny into the phone. “Don't do this! I'm warning you!”

“Nobody warns me, Mr Hebert,” Kaiser replied. “This is the -”

And then, with a tremendous CRASH, his voice was cut off.

“Kaiser!” Danny shouted. “Taylor! What's happening?”

<><>

I had no idea what had actually happened until much later. All I heard was the tremendous CRASH as the roof caved in; something huge and blue blurred past me, taking Kaiser and Hookwolf with it as it punched through the floor and kept on going. Bits had broken off on impact with the roof – smaller ones, only the size of a human torso – and took on their own lethal trajectories within the loft area.

Hookwolf's knife had left his hand on impact; it travelled through the air in a brief arc, ending up point-down between the rope and the chair. The rope parted almost immediately and I moved my arms out to the side to free myself. As I did so, Kaiser's phone dropped into my hand.

Looking at where Hookwolf had gone, I raised an eyebrow. “Something like that, maybe?” I suggested facetiously, then lifted the phone to my ear.

<><>

“Dad. It's me. I'm fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” He felt his heart rate decreasing to merely insane levels. “What happened? Was it your powers?”

“Basically, yeah,” she chuckled. “Holy crap. You should have seen it. I don't even know where Kaiser and Hookwolf are. Cricket jumped out the window just before it happened. Menja and Fenja … I think they got punched out through the wall. In fact, there's just me and Mr Adamson here.”

“Adamson? Lee Adamson?” Danny gripped the phone white-knuckled.

“That's the one.”

“Give the phone to him, please.”

“Okay-doke.”

<><>

Lee was still staring wide-eyed at the gaping hole in the roof and the matching one in the floor. I turned to him. “It's for you,” I told him, holding the phone out.

He took it gingerly, watching me as if I were going to explode or something. I considered shouting 'boo', but I didn't want him to drop the phone. “Uh, yes?” he ventured.

I tuned the conversation out as I strolled around the perimeter of the hole to where they'd dumped my backpack. Slinging it over my shoulder, I leaned over and peered out through the sizeable holes in the wall. Each of them marked the exit point of an Empire Eighty-Eight cape.

One of the Fenja-Menja pair had managed to go head-first down an open man-hole while she was still twenty feet tall; her legs stuck out of the round hole in the pavement, kicking wildly. Her sister was in the next man-hole along. I shook my head. What are the odds …

Smirking at the thought, I looked for Stormtiger, eventually finding him struggling to climb out of what looked like a pool of freshly-poured tar. The workmen were trying to shut off the flow, but through some mischance, the valve was stuck wide open, and more and more of the very hot tar was pouring around him by the second.

Shaking my head, I wandered back to where Lee was still talking on the phone. More accurately, he was sweating profusely while answering 'yes' and 'no' and 'yes sir' to whatever Dad was saying. He looked up as I approached and handed the phone back to me.

“Yeah, Dad?” I asked casually.

“Mr Adamson has agreed to drive you home immediately,” he told me. “Do you have any objection to this?”

“None whatsoever,” I agreed. “Though I've got to take a moment here.”

“Why?”

I grinned wickedly as I started back toward the windows. “Photos.”

<><>

As Lee and I exited the building, the roof fell in, then the entire building began the process of collapsing in upon itself. Lee stared at me, wide-eyed, then back at the slowly imploding structure.

“Lucky, huh?” I asked cheerfully. “Good thing we decided to go when we did.”

“Did you … did you do that?” he blurted.

I rolled my eyes. “I warned him. You heard me warn him.”

“Uh, yeah …” he mumbled. “But we didn't think you were serious.”

I sighed. “People never do.” Glancing down, I added, “Hold on.”

My shoelace had come undone; bending over, I went to re-tie it, just as something whickered over my head. There was a thunk, and I saw a throwing blade stuck in the brickwork just about chest height. “That wasn't there before,” I remarked as I straightened up.

Looking the other way, I saw the origin of the blade. Cricket, minus her face-cage, looking somewhat battered and bruised, hobbling toward me. In her hand was another throwing blade. She drew back her hand to throw …

… and a bus came around the corner, attempted to brake, skidded on some bluish slush, and ploughed straight into her. The impact threw her thirty feet into the back of another bus; she flopped to the ground and stayed there.

I turned to Lee. “So, about that lift.”

<><>

Shadow Stalker

Gotta be quick about this. Get to Hebert's house, kill her, get home again. Tell 'em I was asleep the whole time. They'll never be able to prove otherwise.

Sophia eased her way on to the rooftop and skulked around beside the air-conditioning vent. The grille looked securely attached, but one of the screws holding it on turned easily and she was able to lift it off and away. Reaching in, she lifted out a backpack and placed it next to the aircon vent.

Arrows, arrows, arrows.

Reaching into the backpack, she rummaged through the contents. Spare mask, spare costume, first aid kit … where were the damn arrows?

Finally, losing patience, she dumped the pack out on the rooftop. The arrows were nowhere to be seen.

“The fuck?” she muttered. “I know I had some -”

The scrape of a boot on gravel caused her to whirl around, bringing both crossbows up in a practised move. Even when Armsmaster stepped into view, she didn't relax, though she did lower the crossbows.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him insincerely. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied grimly. “Were you looking for these?” He held up two of the arrows that she had been seeking, twin to the ones in the case on her belt.

“Uh, no,” she replied, thinking quickly. “I had a spare phone in here. Or I thought I did.” She made a show of peering at the arrows. “Those look like the ones I used to use, before I joined the Wards. I got rid of all those.”

“Evidently not,” he said. “These have your fingerprints on them, and the heads have microscopic traces of blood. Pretty sure we'll be able to match these with mysteriously injured muggers on nights you were out on patrol on your own.”

“Uh, no,” she began, tensing to turn and jump off the rooftop. “You've got it all wrong -”

A tremendous CRASH, not all that far away, startled her; she glanced in that direction. That moment of inattention was all it took; the next thing she knew, she was wrapped in a sturdy cable.

“I wouldn't try phasing,” Armsmaster warned her bluntly. “The cable carries a charge.”

And try as she might, Shadow Stalker could not think of a way out.

<><>

Taylor

I climbed out of the car, then slung my backpack over my shoulder once more. Leaning back in through the open door, I gave Lee a tight smile. “You stood up for me with Kaiser,” I told him. “That's the only reason you're still upright and breathing. But you helped kidnap me, which puts you on my list. Kaiser was on my list. You don't want to be there. I'd advise you to leave town.”

“Leave town?” He gulped. “I'm leaving the friggin' state.”

“Gooood idea.” Standing up, I closed the door; from the way he burned rubber, it seemed as though he was intending to leave town today. This minute, even.

Which I was just fine with. Strolling up the front path, I noticed the car alongside the house. The front door opened as I approached; Dad stood there.

“Taylor,” he breathed as I jumped over the rotten step and joined him. “You're all right.”

“Yup,” I grinned and held up the phone. “And trust me, you should see the other guys.” 

Part 7