======== SAMPLE 1 ========
hook’s group of three. I’m a lot less mobile with the ground I’m using, now. I’ll have to do something to get back there later." He pointed to another door. I hurried to follow up on my call, "I think I’m off to the door here."

It was hard to believe how fast Jack had come. I’d known that since the night that we’d left, but here he was, in the midst of his own meeting, he’d been late.

We’d arrived just in time, leaving Jack in his lair. We had our equipment set up to be able to leave, and were soon joined by Dragon. She’d already gotten to the front door, but had gotten her stuff already.

"I saw her in the lobby with a little girl’s helmet on," Jack said.

"Who are you?" I asked. I glanced at Jack, "Noelle?"

"I see you’re getting one hundred percent into it. What’s going on?"

"I’m in contact with Tattletale, and… I had a conversation with Dinah. I got information and came to the conclusion that she’s here to see about what’s going on with Tattletale, and also Coil’s plans. So I'm going in with Coil’s team, in case you need reinforcements and support."

I could see Jack move to change into the dress shirts that he’d worn in the past. Noelle wasn’t a big fan of shirtless.

"And you don’t know the details, are you?" I asked.

"No," Coil said.

My gut decided it. "Why?"

"Because Coil’s gonna tell some of you that we should kill off Coil if we don’t get what we want, and… that’s not even the most important thing. The main thing is that he’s keeping you from getting what you want," he said.

"But-" Coil stopped when I spoke up.

"Coil’s doing everything he can, to keep us from being able to see what Coil’s up to. It’s okay. We don’t have to be on the same page or act like they do. Whatever happens, I’m not gonna be the one responsible, because I’d rather have a war going on the front lines, and we’re safer at the back lines. And Dinah, I'm pretty certain we all understand why she’ll be leaving her post."

"But-"

"Because of how she thinks the world should be dealt with. If the city is fucked up enough, and the people there get to hear the big shots say how bad things are, it could leave a bad taste in a man’s mouth."

I felt my heart skip a beat.

"Because," Coil said, "Because because. It’s not easy. Not easy to sit on the top floor of a building like this one, and make friends. I’m putting my money on you wanting to see the bigger picture, and I kind of want you to be the only of the group here, with the idea that she could leave whenever Coil wants, and we can go off our own plan. I’m betting the world starts getting worse if Coil goes that route. Besides, I know Coil’s pretty smart if he can imagine all of this and figure out the best way to handle it. He figured it out."

That was true, but I hadn’t really been thinking like Coil. Coil was the leader of Coil’s group, and I‘d said so in person. I could imagine all of the ways that Coil imagined things, and I couldn’t get myself to agree with him.

"I’m going," Coil said. "I’ll head straight upstairs with one of the kids."

I’m not sure if I can even describe how fucked up this place is and what it’s about, but I don’t really care. My gut was making me think Coil had an agenda.

"Fuck you, Coil," Dinah hissed the word. Another of our kids came down the stairs, carrying a bag.

I stopped and looked around, "How is the situation."

Dinah’s dad was standing alone on the side of the stairs, his hands on the door. "She could be coming to get us. Either from Coil’s lair, or directly to the top floors. I’ll hold her off."

Coil

======== SAMPLE 2 ========
hooked it.

He was so close it had to have been out of the blue. They’d used magic in the interim to make it happen.

There were no other options for his enemies. The battle against Scion was no exception. The end came in a little over two months.

The fight against Scion broke their back while it was still short

"Sierra?" he asked, a bit shaky.

"That’s a different call," she responded, in another tone she might have used on the radio.

"I’m fine. Not as fine as I’d hope, but I’ll make it up to you in time for Christmas."

She set the bag down and reached out, holding a hand out to him. He gave her a brief glance, then left.

There was a long silence, punctuated only by the creaking of the ground.

"I really want to apologize, Sierra," Regent said.

She nodded. "This wasn’t my idea of doing it right, but I needed to meet you. I didn’t know you would be right by your mother and the dog."

He took that as his cue to start looking for the source of the noise. The place was dark, and was a bit of an odd-looking place with a few of the walls covered in a white sheet-film that seemed to be tinted to be dark gray, a faint green that masked any lights and some of the lights in the windows.

"There’s no use calling a police in this," he said.

"That was probably a bad idea. My name is Kato and I’ve got a warrant out for your arrest."

"I’ll give you an answer to that question, and maybe I’ll let you go first if we give you the go-ahead," he smiled. She looked down at the white sheet.

Her mother’s face was etched into the sheet in sharp relief, along with the image-shattering look of the cat’s eyes.

"Can’t help but notice the similarities between the two."

"I don’t think I can use the ability. I'm a cap. I may be over my head here, but I’m not the worst of the pack at hiding my powers."

"A cape can usually figure that out. You’ve gone the extra mile with your powers, with the fact that you‘ve worked with me at three different sites."

"You wouldn’t believe me if you told me."

"I’ll find out," he answered, smiling.

"There’s more to the story," she said. "It’s not just that you’ve met me a hundred times. It’s that you’ve actually met me."

Kato looked from her mother to him, "Mom,"

"I’m not entirely sure what you’re talking about. I’m not entirely sure what the-" he reached out a hand.

"You’ll figure it out."

"Thank you, Victoria," Victoria’s voice was hard.

"Not my thing, no. Sorry." He took her arm and stepped away. "I’d like to meet you first."

She hesitated. He held out his hand. It was only his mother watching the interaction from across the room.

"My mother?"

"Right. Her mother, Victoria’s mother."

"Ah," she said. "Nice."

"It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to her, but I knew she’d be in Victoria’s room. She’d been in my office last year, as well, and I told her her name." His mom’s smile, and the warmth of the interaction.

"That’s a good place to start. If your mother doesn’t mind, then yes, you can meet on school grounds. Victoria’s in the school’s cafeteria downstairs, so please stop by and wait a moment."

"Yes ma'am," he said. He knew there was no need to be polite. But he hoped it would be worth the wait.

His mom reached him, hugged him tightly.

She said something, and his mother smiled. He turned to look.

It was a pretty big dog. He could tell because of the big coat, the fur, the broad shoulders. He’d seen similar looking dogs elsewhere, but Victoria had a big, strong dog with a very petite appearance.

"Come on.

======== SAMPLE 3 ========
hook of her dress, "We don’t have any of that. My armor is… uh, no, I’t’ve got no armor at all. But I am armed, with the best weapons I can summon."

I glanced back at Tattletale, then back to Regent, "I guess they’d better move fast. Don’t you know where we might be?"

"Yes," Tattletale said.

"Regent, is he okay? He lost consciousness? We’d better talk to everyone else."

"Suspicious," Regent said. It took him a few seconds to compose himself.

"You said we had to move fast. So what exactly is Tattletale doing? Going from the hospital to the building-"

"Someone’s waiting," Regent said. "This building is the center of the city, and the hospital is the last stop."

"Which location?" I asked.

"It’s in the heart of the city," Tattletale said.

"Oh."

Regent shrugged. "I’ve met the leader of the Undersiders. A tall, black-haired man in a suit like ours, who was here a few weeks ago. He’s been talking about reforming the Protectorate like he did when I visited. The Protectorate could act as a defense instead of an attack, and he thinks the public wouldn’t be too thrilled about it. He wants to go out like it was, be the leader who sets the scene for the future, be everyone’s greatest villain."

"And how? What would we name him? Noelle?"

"He’s a cape who lives in the public eye. We’ll give him his own team, but he won’t join them on the battlefield, but he’ll fight the rest of us down there for a couple of thousand dollars. He said he’d take his time working out the details, and he doesn’t care if the PRT pays him a compliment on it."

"Like he or not, he is the leader," Regent said, "We can be sure it won’t be long enough before someone else steps up."

Tattletale grinned, "Oh. Yeah. We’ll get around to that in the time that we’ve got the Undersiders out of the picture, but I think we should at least mention Tattletale. I have a feeling she will be there for the reception."

"Thanks," I said. The way that Tattletale spoke sounded so casual and casual, I thought of being a guest in the hotel room.

"I don’t want you to worry," Tattletale said. "I’d rather you go to the front desk and get the necessary directions. If a little more complicated, you could be left in their wake. It helps if it happens near the front door."

"Thank you," I replied, "So what should we do now that we’ve got one less person here? We have the Undersiders, but Tattletale has me here as a distraction, if they feel like they’re being watched. Not a big problem, if we can just keep our eyes on her."

"That sounds better," Tattletale said. "But where would Tattletale have to go?"

"A roadblock. The people in my building, my office and the hospital? I’d probably have to get them all to themselves. In the event of a containment breach or a riot, I could just run out of time to try and get them to the hospital." There was a pause. Tattletale wasn’t finished. "This could end badly for you. You got in without telling me what happened here, or maybe you’k had someone else do the job. There’s no guarantee that it’s good timing. We could end up with that building burned down."

"I’ll give you one last chance to tell me and leave to get help," Regent said.

There was another lull here. The phone buzzed.

"Hush," Tattletale said. "Nothing important."

I raised my voice, "What did you say?"

"This would be more efficient if you ran to a building a few blocks away and told Tattletale where everyone else went. The receptionists and PRT workers won’t be able to see or hear you unless they come straight through doors. We already have three people here. You’ll leave when you need to."

"Okay," I replied, "Good."

I could feel Tattletale�

======== SAMPLE 4 ========
hookers for their part in the invasion, which is apparently very important after what happened here. That… not that I care about anything of that nature. I'm not going to let that happen again. "

I’m not sure I buy that.

"I don’t really think of myself as a survivor," Faultline said, sitting down next to me. I stared, watching for her to make more comments.

No. No I did not. Neither the ones I’d seen, nor the ones I’d read, had me thinking of myself as part of the Nine. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

It was as if the Nine were putting me back in the same class with Scion, or that he’d put me back with Faultline, like we were a new grade or something.

"That’s all of us," Triumph said.

"We had some of the Skitter kids leave to bring reinforcements, but I’m not holding out much hope they’ll come back," Grue said. "There’s so many more things to worry about right now."

I didn’t have to take my eyes off Tattletale, seeing her looking me squarely in the eyes. I’d been talking to her for a bit. It made me wonder at how different we’d been in our initial meeting, and how her sudden change in demeanor hadn’t been because she’d seen me.

"I know I said that I didn’t care about anything of the sort, but I’m not sure I trust me anymore," I said, staring.

"Well, it’s not like you ever have to make yourself an issue," Grue said. "You know that we’re probably more dangerous because of the Undersiders than without them, which is a hell of a difference."

I glanced at Regent and saw that he’d already stopped speaking, turning his attention toward Miss Militia, Armsmaster and Velocity.

"What?" Tattletale asked.

"You want us to stop, and we’ll do whatever you need us to," Grue said, his voice a little too high in volume.

I sighed. I glanced at Triumph. Couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to him.

He hadn’t moved. Nothing much happened for a few minutes after that. A brief pause in his fighting the Slaughterhouse Nine, as the Protectorate troops arrived to assist them in repelling the Slaughterhouse Nine from the city’s interior… until the Endbringer took off.

I’d been in the city long enough to know the drill, I knew that, in the aftermath, things would happen in a slightly different fashion.

No. No. I still didn’t trust Triumph. I hadn’t really thought to look for anything on him, and if this whole plan were one long game of Chance the Dork versus Dragon… well, he didn’t look anywhere near that intimidating.

"Okay," I said. "We stop, and there will be no fighting before we meet again in the field."

Regent was the first of us to join us, and after a few minutes in the air, we were in the city.

If there’s a way to catch people off guard, it’s to take that same approach we took from the beginning. You’d go up to them, show them the fight, show them that even being in the city isn’t safe without a protective suit or armor.

There was no way we were going to be able to protect our own before someone else came into the loop and gave us the opportunity. Our enemies were going to be on their way.

"Let’s begin," Triumph said. Armsmaster came to a stop. Armsmaster was probably the most likely to be in the city anyways, as he’d be one of Coil’s closest advisors, and he was more in tune with his power’s effects on the body, health and fitness than Armsmaster was.

Grue started his speech by mentioning that they’d be meeting as a group. We were going to have to stick together.

They were already here. In the company of Regent. I wouldn’t have expected any more than a hundred people to be present.

"You’ll need to ask Armsmaster," Tattletale said.

"He’s on his way," Armsmaster responded. Coil stopped in front of Armsmaster, who had no idea at all what Armsmaster had said. There wasn’t a trace of emotion in his voice. "I will call Coil

======== SAMPLE 5 ========
hooks him through. No need for that."

There was an indescribable feeling. She had to move her shoulder, but she had to move her right shoulder, her hand and her arm.

She saw the man who’d just emerged from a room filled with bugs. He was in the company of two others. A tall woman that Taylor had known well enough… he was tall, but he wasn’t a girl. It made more sense in a way than it did with the others, so it stuck with her. She put her hands around his shoulders, tried to make him look small by making him look big to everyone. "Is everyone okay?"

The man shook his head.

She’d spent much of the past hour fighting back the bugs that had invaded her thoughts. He was the same guy that was controlling the swarm and controlling the people who were using it.

She’d been the one taking control, he’d never wanted to.

"No," she said, "I didn’t want to. I didn’t let him come."

"You’d have to let him leave," the man said, his voice calm.

Taylor shrugged. "I think I could have, but I couldn’t stand what he was doing."

"We’ll be seeing you in a couple of days," the woman said.

"Yeah," Taylor said.

She stopped. He was looking at her. Would he get upset when he saw her without her mask? How was she supposed to deal with what would happen if she got in a fight with Coil?

"So you’ll be keeping the costume with you?" he asked.

"The outfit."

"The costume. If Coil wants it, we’ll have our own costume."

Taylor shook her head. "I’ll keep the costume."

When he looked her in the eyes, she couldn’t help but see an expression of concern.

"Good. You will need to change once you’ve got the costume on. Then let us know and I will alter your costume accordingly. If you want to keep it, we’ll explain. Coil has a reputation to maintain. That’s what got him in this situation, and what gave him to want to get involved with us."

"But we can take the costume and keep the identity? What if a fight breaks out?"

"If you insist. If you are unhappy, fine. But please, go first, and we can talk you through the situation if you haven’t yet."

He looked at her, then looked away in silent regret.

She looked at the clock, and the door opened.

■

It was one or two hours until the battle with the Nine began, then another hour until it finished.

Faultline and the rest of the Undersiders had arrived by the bus and were still out of costume. The number of guards on duty was low, considering their numbers. They had a few more people to keep an eye on and a few of those people were already at some events.

It was only ten people in every team, then, she was the same number as Leviathan.

The bus would drop them off at the hotel and they would be picked up by a van with a woman out of costume on the front of it. She was a girl who could give Taylor a hard time, although she’d looked like she was five feet tall. She must have been about five feet across, because she wore a jacket with straps around her midsection, a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers on the bottom. Her hair in a braided strand that went around one eye kept all of them from being identifiable. A pair of herded dogs had been the dog to watch, with other dogs, dogs that the team had taken in, and the rest they’d left to roam around the street.

The van was parked in Taylor’s car outside Tattletale’s office, and it was packed with two guys. Taylor was sure they were Tattletales, as they’d gone around in their costume to see if she’d noticed.

The van pulled into the parking lot and Taylor was greeted by a blonde boy with blonde hair, and then by the tall, muscular girl who had a thick black dress and heavy makeup. She was a cape, but the skin-tight body armor and the armor didn’t hide anything about her. On a scale to Taylor’s face, they seemed a mere foot away from being a match made in heaven. The girl, on the other hand, was more like a girl that needed a boyfriend, but Taylor’s face did help to match up

======== SAMPLE 6 ========
hooking off. He grabbed it and hurled myself forward, throwing it at the ground, and I retreated, dropping into the nearest seat."

"It’s a helluva sight to behold," I said.

"It’s not a feature, we wouldn’t know if it was," he said.

"There’s three of us here, two of the PRT’s officers on hand so I’m not going to ask you to give us bad information," I said. "We wouldn’t want to lose anyone from here on out, and we don’t want to get involved in a fight. We’ll discuss that later. If it comes down to it, I’m pretty sure we can beat Leviathan."

"We had an idea," Coil responded. "I’m pretty sure."

"That was a dumb move," Coil said.

"We’re not dumb," I said.

"Yeah," Coil said, frowning.

"This is where we have an issue," I went on. "This is where we’ve tried to act on our own. A lot of the powers we were trying to fight back with the Undersiders and Protectorate and the Slaughterhouse Nine weren’t very effective. The Endbringers were pretty stupid, and they weren’t able to defeat Coil. We’d done the same with the Wards. We didn’t make a large enough impact or do enough to stop Coil. So we’re basically acting like I asked us to. We know where he’s at most of the time, we take advantage, and we give up a lot to play nice to make the game easier for everybody. But I haven’t been able to give orders directly to heroes who can fight him."

Coil shrugged. "It’s a tradeoff. I’m in charge, and if I give powers to others in exchange, I’m handing the keys to Coil. We can’t have that. In a fight where there’s a good amount of options, there’s no guarantee that the hero who gets the most power will get to take the most out on a fight with him."

"I’m not sure we could do anything to Coil," Taylor said. "I’m pretty sure he’s not going to take any of us down, but if things really get bad, it’s going to cause a domino effect of bad guys getting control of bigger heroes, turning this into another Slaughterhouse Nine thing, and Coil and the Protectorate and Protectorate are going to just make things worse."

I shrugged. "Coil is going to make more enemies on his own than he otherwise would, but I’m hoping that he’ll have some allies who will back him in times of trouble."

"Okay," Taylor said, turning as she took her seat. "I have to head out, get this done and then get back here, talk to Taylor, see if she can give me a good reason to stick around. Maybe talk to Grue and he can get me set up for dealing with Coil."

"I suppose so. I think we might have to wait a bit, too," she added, giving Taylor a look that implied she was being a little more cautious than she was. I felt an instant of sympathy for her.

"Okay," Taylor added.

There was only silence.

"Taylor, Coil has been pretty quiet this morning. I'm hoping he’s on top of things with the work he’s done for the Wards, and that he gets into things, gets to work with the major players, in the next few days."

Taylor thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"Taylor," Legend said.

"I’m going out," Coil replied, turning his attention to Taylor.

The two women started discussing what they’d shared together. Some, like Regent, had talked about their days living as a team, about the Protectorate or Wards having a responsibility to them, that sort of thing. Others, like Taylor, were wary of what it would mean for her.

I could see Grue, along with a few others, looking at Coil, at his power. He looked at Taylor, but he didn’t look very interested.

Taylor turned to look at me. Was I thinking? Would I be better than any of my team, as Grue pointed out?

"There are still a lot of bugs there," I said. "Can you move it? Move Coil away from Coil’s immediate vicinity?"

"That is simple. Coil is in

======== SAMPLE 7 ========
hooker’s gun and shot the dog in the shoulder. The dog returned fire with two knives in one hand, but she could tell it wasn’t powerful enough to kill him without leaving other animals vulnerable.

The dog retreated.

Another strike hit the pavement, followed by a shot from a car that passed by for a brief second.

I turned around.

"What happened?" I asked.

The car veered out of the way, and the second impact, a foot or two away, was enough to send him toppling over. I wasn’t expecting that.

It was just a minute away.

"You’re okay," I said, breaking eye contact with the woman in charge.

"You’re not okay. I’m-" she said, raising her voice.

"I can manage. I should apologize," I said, my voice soft, "I should… forgive your actions, and ask for your forgiveness. I promise you will never hurt her again."

"I won’t hurt you," the woman growled the words to herself. She’d raised the voice to a growl. "Can I ask why you’ve ignored the warnings of your boss, and when you’d stopped the firebomb, the dog had to stand, her feet on the pavement, eyes wide? Can you explain why you’re going to do the same thing as today?"

I could see her nod before she spoke. It was too quick to see over the commotion of the crowd, and it didn’t allow her to maintain eye contact.

I’d been thinking about asking the woman on the phone, telling her to do whatever she needed. But I’m not sure I should. I won’t lose that argument to that.

I headed to the front of the station. The car was packed just next to us, with two cars behind us and a young man in the back seat waiting on the other side. I felt strangely at home.

We stood in front of the entrance, the doors wide enough for the two of us behind the station’s doors to squeeze through.

A girl with a girl’s voice. I didn’t recognize her, but I’d seen her. She didn’t have the girl’s accent. She wore jeans, a long sleeved one, like something you might see in high school. A girl with dreadlocks? I thought I might have seen her make her long hair into hair. Too cute.

"I’ll put a man’s stall and you two in," the girl with the girl’s voice said.

"Oh, I don’t have a stall," I said.

"Oh, that was a bad idea," the girl said, as a boy with dreadlocks entered. He was tall, thin.

"You’d leave them to fend for themselves?" the girl asked.

I didn’t have a reply to that.

The girl with the girl’s voice shook her head. "That would hurt him. We won’t take risks with our dogs because we fear they will get hurt. We don’t want our dogs to become a target for other predators."

"The wolf pack?" I asked.

"The wolf pack? What about the other wolf pack? Is there any doubt in your mind?"

"I’ll meet them with my dogs when we stop by the station," I said. I wasn’t sure we’d stop by the station at all, since it was crowded and people were everywhere except the station entrance. "Or else I won’t want to hear them talk."

"We stop by the station as well," the girl in the girl’s voice said. "We’ll wait for you and your dogs. It’s not safe."

I turned and joined the other dogs to be taken to the front of the station. I didn’t speak a word. I thought about the others, the boy and the girl, and what that had meant for us. They hadn’t shown themselves in particular. I felt like I’d seen a movie. The girl and the Boy’s Club.

"We aren’t wolves, okay?" the girl asked her. "Why are we wolves?"

"They’re predators, and this is for our own safety or for those in the wolf pack," I said.

She stared at me.

I saw the girl with the girl’s voice walk over. "I don’t know how bad things could become, and I don�

======== SAMPLE 8 ========
hooks. It was not. A small part of me felt vindicated by the fact that Grue had been vindicated. She’d helped a lot of people, but I didn’t think she had any real impact in the grand scheme of things.

It was the other part of me that wondered if I might have been a better fighter if she hadn’t been there for me in the beginning. She’d been there for the first time, but her power wasn’t something I had really felt.

A voice from far away cut through my thoughts. I saw the form of Sophia, tall, blond, with hair that was too short to have been tied back. She had the look of someone who’d been through a difficult period in their life, and it made her look like a different person with just a look in her eyes.

"Hey, Taylor- Taylor," the man with the green dress shirt said.

I turned to see my old teammate standing in the doorway, wearing a blue t-shirt and blue jeans.

"Don’t look so disappointed," the man with the glasses said. "You had your moments."

"I haven’t had a lot of opportunities. Maybe you can give me a chance to go out with you two?"

"Yeah, go out with him," he answered. He turned his head to the side as if he could see what I was looking at, and then smiled at Sophia. She caught my smile just enough that Sophia tried to turn away.

"The guy was joking, but Sophia’s face was all the more dramatic when he made fun of her appearance," Taylor said. When I glanced at her sister, she’d gone to step closer.

The man behind the glasses smiled a little, but I couldn’t see his pupils in the darkness. "I suppose you could give me a call, then. You could pick me up after school?"

"That would be a real hit to my pocketbook."

"I’ll handle the money, then. I think I can see where this conversation’s going."

Taylor turned her attention to her. She was a little more serious than the girl behind her.

Sophia looked like she wanted to say something, so the woman said, "I wouldn’t make it a thing of a secret, but-"

"You’d regret it, if I brought you home," the guy with the glasses said.

"Then I should go," Sophia said, standing up, still standing.

I frowned, still in the same position, as I moved to leave.

"What’s on your mind?" She asked.

What she was looking at me, I couldn’t see her pupils in the gloom. If I wasn’t careful, and I wasn’t careful, I’d miss that I was looking at Sophia.

I’d been at a conference in Seattle, with Leviathan attacking the heroes, with Lung and Chevalier being among the heroes in the arena. I’d spoken up a lot, had come face to face with him in person. It had been one thing to stand up to him, but it had been something else entirely.

"I think it was kind of like what happened after the Endbringer battle. There was this one woman who looked completely different than the other heroes did, but they knew enough about each other to know that Sophia couldn’t see them. She called herself the Endbringer. They were really pretty much a mystery to her. I think it was pretty much the same thing."

The Endbringer. I knew what that looked like. I’d seen it in my nightmares, as one of the people I didn’t want to be. I knew what it was like.

"It was a big deal. It’s really hard to get over that, you know how I look at things. If you were here that day, would you have gotten to know her?"

I nodded. I didn’t think she would have.

"Why do you have friends?" Sophia asked.

Taylor gave me a sly grin. "To have someone else to talk to. I don’t think her face really makes you feel like you’re on speaking terms. The last time I saw her she was in another room, watching a movie about the Endbringer. So, I can’t really think too much into that."

"I don’t really blame you," Sophia said.

Taylor gave me a dirty look. "You knew me when I joined the Protectorate. I couldn’t have known what the last four villains had done and been feeling like I might

======== SAMPLE 9 ========
hookd it. The girl moved to intercept him."

"It’s a good idea. My teammates."

Lisa shook her head. "You shouldn’t do this."

"I’ll let them die," Tattletale said. "No rush."

Lisa raised a hand, but I didn’t see it. Maybe she was trying to be inconspicuous to Coil’s PRT and Clockblocker’s side. Whatever the case, her tone was unenthusiastic or accusatory, "We didn’t get the chance to kill him."

"He fought Coil, and he was killed when we tried. You shouldn’t try this. They killed one of Coil’s top lieutenants, and they probably could find a way in to kill him. A lot of the damage he did was self-inflicted."

"We can’t blame the girl for this," Lisa said. She was smiling. "But I think we all have the same opinion. No, you did, but there weren’t many people in the audience to witness it. You were the first people to get a glimpse during the show, and we got a much better look at that part of the building."

"And how many more people do we need to see before we get our final verdict?"

"I don’t want to spoil things. I said I was leaving, Tattletale said I could make a call during the meeting, and I’m leaving for home as a precaution. She said Coil was leaving at twelve. She said it would be for thirty-five or thirty-six days before we get our final verdict. That leaves sixteen or seventeen weeks after we find out the truth."

"And our enemies?" I asked. "Is that more time, or just time to kill? That does look long."

"Time that Tattletale would be willing to do it," Lisa admitted. "It’s more of a deadline to get an answer out of you before we’ve gone down the road of death that ‘death and destruction’s too much to hope for. I expect you to take care of yourselves, as well as your families. If Coil did die a hero, he’ll take care of his body and bury it with his family, and you’ll go to your families for your grave and bury him with yours."

"I see," I said.

"Just remember," Lisa said, "I’m here. Your family. You should tell Coil that we’re there."

"Why?" I asked.

"We need to go in there to get some answers. The PRT’s presence here can’t stop us, and the Undersiders are here to support the heroes."

How much was too much? The Undersiders were part of Coil’s team. The PRT was a part of his organization, after all.

We reached the door, then walked in. I gave Lisa a quick smile, as we entered.

"You okay?"

"I’d like to think I’m okay," I said.

"Can we leave now?" she asked, "I’m going to be back after I’ve talked to Coil and given my final verdict. I think that’s fine. Just wanted to talk to you. I’m not sure whether to believe you or the others, but I want to make sure you know that I’m not stupid. You’re not here to be a witness, I think."

"Okay," I said. I didn’t have the energy to go to that extreme.

Lisa shook her head, "I’ll come in and talk later."



Interlude 24 (Nightmare Fuel) (The End)


In the last few seconds of the show, Lisa was shown returning to one of Coil’s rooms. There was a series of cameras mounted around the room as Taylor had called them in. Two large monitors, one looking off to the side, one on the chair between the two monitors, were placed on the chair’s armrest so that we could see her through the glass. She’d left the window open with the monitors fixed against her body.

"Can’t say I didn’t know he was watching," she said. A moment later, a message flashed on a television that read ‘Crisis on Brockton Bay’.

"You don’t know Coil?" Coil asked.

"I could say I was surprised," Lisa said. "But I’m happy what I did. I know how dangerous this is,

======== SAMPLE 10 ========
hook, and even if we didn’t we’d take down the two of them at the same time. If we moved with an attack, she couldn’t hold them off for long."

"You don’t have the numbers at hand," Grue said.

"We did have the number," Tattletale said. "We also had the people to coordinate it all."

He paused. "I’m thinking we’ll have to go with you, then."

Grue nodded, but it was a slow nod to go with his teammates.

The others started heading up to the others. Regent and Bitch stepped back, then hurried off.

"Regent? He’s a few paces ahead of us," Tattletale said. He turned and saw Tattletale in front of him with a gun. A second later, the gun had come into his hands.

"No."

"We’re leaving," I said.

"Just the same," I asked. "We’ll be meeting the old capes here."

"We can still meet them, I think," Regent explained.

"We’ll have to talk about it," Grue clarified.

"Talk to Tattletale," Tattletale said. "I don’t think we’re alone among the groups."

"Right," Regent said. He didn’t answer the gun, and then I heard it. A gunshot.

I turned my head, looking as fast as I could through the cloud of bugs that had gathered on him. Skitter. Bastard. I glanced my swarm-sentry up at the wall to indicate where I’d spotted him. I’d turned him around, and my bugs were stuck where they’d been, not in the wall but in his helmet’s visor.

Bastard’s voice echoed from above me. "I’m going to fuck you up. I’m sorry."

"He won’t," I said, my voice flat. But he’d already left.

"No," Tattletale said. She picked the gun and then raised the barrel. A second later, it was loaded again. "Nothing’s going to happen."

I glanced at Tattletale. I noted the number of bugs that still lingered on her; a quarter dozen of her bugs were still inside Bastard and Regent’s helmets. She was keeping their distance, or she was using them to keep them apart from the main body.

"Let’s go," I said. "No holding back? We’re going."

Skitter and Bastard backed up, and Tattletale and Regent, Skitter and Bastard, Skitter and I dashed back towards the warehouse, stopping just outside the door.

The door clanged shut behind us, and Grue stepped back.

"What?" I asked. "That's the same guy you’d see in the Wards?"

"No," he said. "Don’t think I knew him."

"Tattletale," I said. "We need to go. Tattletale says to leave."

"You don’t want to be left behind?" Tattletale asked.

"I don’t want to be left behind," I said, as we turned the wheel, Grue’s car taking the front seat. "I’ll drive, and I can’t see right from here."

"I need you."

"I have to move. Can’t keep track of who's coming and going."

"Okay, but I think, I don’t have any particular reasons for why we should, like, leave at the same time? We’re both in the same building? It can’t be hard to get to."

He’d noticed us. Tattletale’s eyes were fixed on Regent?

I was tempted to ask Tattletale to stop, but I wanted to get Tattletale’s line of thought in gear so we could make a collective decision. Tattletale wasn’t the answer I’d need.

"I can drive," I said. "What have you got?"

"No, there’s nothing I can fit into the thing. You’re driving too fast."

"I’m going," I said.

"Good," she said. She turned to go. Grue’s car slammed into one of the warehouse walls, tearing a hole in the building’

======== SAMPLE 11 ========
hooks that she had no doubt was a trap." "Why?"

"We don’t know what he’s made out to be. He was just attacking with his power. I’m guessing he could make a lot of calls in a short amount of time, and there’s almost certainly some form of control, and maybe even an ability in that regard." "Is there any way he could be making calls without his power?"

"I don’t know what powers are," I said.

"There’s no doubt in my mind," Rachel said.

"So who’s next?" I asked.

"I’ll come." She took the gun from the drawer, and we walked to a distance away.

I had to catch a moment to see her face. It was a hard mask of gray-black skin, a scarred nose, crooked dark brown eyes and a narrow face. She had a few dark circles under the eyes. I was pretty sure I recognized her as the woman in the costume that took me to a dark room, but I didn’t remember that particular scene.

I sat down on the lawn and we all sat in silence.

"Do you want to go ahead?" Rachel asked me. "You’ve been waiting for this. If you want us to go ahead, or you need to talk,"

I nodded. That was an order.

"I’ll come," she said.

I nodded, too. We both agreed that we would. She headed for the door, and I followed her out to her car, stopping to help her open and secure the door.

I was going to have to use the gun. I took hold of the trigger to slow down time as she arrived.

"This way," she said.

"A-a-and," I said. When I looked around to see the group of people inside, there wasn’t anybody who I recognized. I checked my phone too, finding videos from the other night as well. There wasn’t a single photo of myself standing out in a crowd. Rachel hadn’t even shown up. I sighed.

"I only wanted to talk," I said.

Rachel didn’t reply. Her voice was low, like she was speaking to herself, low in volume, volume.

She’d spent too much time dealing with Scion and what it meant for her, even before I’d started, she’d found it difficult to process how Scion’s power had changed and grown. Still, she wasn’t averse to confronting her old self. "I can’t leave, either."

I nodded. "Are you okay."

"I’ll be. Can you meet me at the bus stand?" I asked.

She nodded.

I went up to get my phone and used my powers to search the area for landmarks. My eye was drawn to a building with a bright red light in the distance. It stood about twenty feet across, almost half a block away from me in the center of a parking lot, and looked like there was a large fountain behind it.

We’d left the bus station the night before, I thought.

I called out the word and the building stopped in my tracks. It didn’t have the name, though. Something from Earth Bet or something of the sort.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I can’t find it," Rachel said.

"I can look for it," I admitted. I took hold of the glass-covered door and pushed it open while Rachel watched from the window. She didn’t turn her head in my direction.

I waited for her to use her powers, then made my way to the front of the bus, passing out her cellphone.

Before I could get inside, Rachel stopped me. With the window ajar, she asked, "I’ll go check out the scene, then I’ll head to a car? We could get around in a car?"

There weren’t just seats on the bus. Cars were the mainstay of the city’s transportation system, along with buses and train.

"Yeah," I said.

"Just wanted to come by and say hi." It still wasn’t a good sign that she didn’t know. She’d been too busy preparing the place, she’d spent too much time outside as far as I’d read, and her usual manner of relating with one another had suddenly changed.

"Are you OK?" Rachel asked. I looked at the window, and Rachel was right behind me. I glanced

======== SAMPLE 12 ========
hooks out, and it’s a lot to handle in small, fast hours. Can’t blame them. We’ve been playing a very small part in the bigger picture."

I nodded. "Well, that’s all the information we need. It’ll be interesting to see how this plays out."

"As you can see, it’s been a while. Our old home has become more or less a ghost town, it’s hard to get around, and the new capes have a tough time finding each other. A small town is much harder to access in the worst case scenario."

"Right. And we don’t know how it will play out."

"Well, we don’t have to, and the Protectorate did tell us where they could be found, so there’s a chance we could find a way home from here on out."

Was that a lie? Was she lying to me? I turned toward my friends.

"Where did the idea come from?" I asked.

"I made it a point to visit the area, since I had the other heroes all together when I made my return," Grue replied.

"So she wasn’t planning to stay."

"I suspect so. She’ll come back."

"A while from now, probably," Triumph replied.

"A while?" I sounded disappointed.

"Probably," Triumph said.

Tattletale had a hand in getting me back into a position where there was room for everyone else. But she hadn’t bothered to tell me exactly how long I had to stay, with the possibility of getting caught up in the moment. Not that I wanted to be involved with anyone who had a motive where getting caught up in a long-term plan was in any way positive for us.

The conversation was punctuated by the sound of someone moving a chair. The door opened. "Noelle, can I get you something?"

The young woman behind me moved a few feet closer until she was directly in front of Noelle. Her hand moved to Noelle’s collarbone, and then returned to the front of Noelle’s neck.

"You’ll have time for a treat," she said. She tapped her head with a large hand, as if to rub Noelle with the surface of her head, as if her head or neck would be touching the ground. "If you want a treat."

I swallowed, then took a moment to figure out the words that came out of my mouth.

I’d already planned this. I’d spent time in bed with Grue trying not to think about the Protectorate anymore. I’d spent some time alone with Noelle, I’d had a couple of long conversations with Triumph, the PRT Director, about how Noelle and I fit into this larger picture, and I’d come to the realization that I’d spent time watching the video feeds of the events in Wards headquarters. I’d found myself thinking about what we’d done before, and I’d made it very easy for her to get a glimpse of what we’d talked about, how we’d dealt with each of the threats facing the city and the entire globe.

I’d spent my entire existence doing what I could to keep Noelle from seeing how we’d responded to the Endbringer threat. To keep Noelle from looking for any kind of explanation, I’d spent days, weeks, months studying how they used their powers, trying to figure out what their powers did and how to take advantage of it.

If it came down to it, in a matter of minutes, I’d be helping Noelle sort out her own life, my own thoughts, and my own beliefs about the world in general.

But what if everyone else saw how I was using my power?

I could imagine the same conversation, in my head. What Did Noelle think? What was Triumph thinking?

"If you say so," Triumph greeted me.

I glanced at Noelle’s partner, saw the worry and concern in her eyes.

"You do this again?" Triumph smiled.

"It’s over. You can leave now, since you couldn’t handle it?"

"I wanted to talk and watch the video, and I’m not going to do that now."

"I agree. You should stay, or you won’t have room for me in your group."

Grue looked unhappy, and I wasn’t sure if it was her anger or a momentary loss of patience. "You said

======== SAMPLE 13 ========
hooks up."

Noelle raised her hands to her throat.



Tentatively

"Hurtful. Noelle?"

"Yeah," Noelle said.

"Can I help you, then? Can help?" I asked.

"My mom was just attacked by Lung."

"What is going on?"

"She’s dead, she was trying to use her power to repair her wound, they just took out a portion of her brain, she was a very small part of it. They’ll get more of her brain if they kill me, I’m sure I can do one or two more brain surgery. The rest of it’ll do that."

I was glad I hadn’t asked. I could have stayed at that hospital the whole time I tried to give her a brain transplant.

Noelle frowned.

That wasn’t a sound, but it was enough noise as it was, for someone who could hear it.

"How could Lung get her way like this?" I asked.

"It’s an incredibly dangerous situation and the Protectorate will probably be in a position to stop it, if they can find me and convince me there’s no point in waiting, right?"

"It’s possible," I admitted.

"She might get her hands on it. There’s no way I can find a way to fight him and survive, with the things I saw here."

Was there any point in looking for something to fight Lung with? His power and his ability to make clones?

I turned and left Noelle and Rachel behind.

The door opened with a bang.

"Sorry, I had to move," Grue said. The crowd was already moving to follow, while Noelle and Rachel waited.

"You’re okay?" Grue asked.

"Yeah. I’ll be in touch when I have better news."

"Good."

"You got hurt?" Grue asked, pointing to himself. "When Lung attacked them?"

"No. He wasn’t attacking them. But he did use the power of his power to tear into them. My dad’s power was probably a lot stronger than that."

"You said that before. Is this a lot worse than you thought?"

"Oh, it is."

"Oh good."

I nodded.

"Noelle, look-"

A momentary panic swept through me as I turned and saw what was happening with my power. A small blue glow surrounded me, a second later burning through my mask to reveal the figure of a boy behind one of the walls.

"You’re awake," Rachel said.

"Okay," I said. "We only have one hour. I’m here until I get a good sense of the scene."

I nodded and headed for the front of the hospital. I got five blocks too fast, in my head’s race to get enough distance.

The man with the girl’s face didn’t want me in our ranks, not right away. He was trying to keep distance or keep me from getting to the front line. I gave him space.

"Hey, noelle. How’s the news coming?"

"It is." He smiled a little, then got in his car, leaving us behind.

I stopped, holding my phone between my ear and the glass. I’d been too slow to get a grip on my powers with all the stuff I’d been taking.

I spoke up. "What’s going on? Someone’s got my back at the moment I say I can’t get in the scene. I’m telling them you wouldn’t let any of us get past that thing without my name, ID, face, or even phone number."

A pause.

"That’s the gist of it, is all. Noelle’s going to try to kill herself with the power and I’ll kill her anyway, in one piece before she can do anything more serious. I’m not making this up, or pretending it’s true, I can just figure everything out for Noelle by herself. I’m pretty sure we’ve got a better handle on the situation than anyone that’s been around her. I might not have a head start, but I’ll get to it."

"Okay," Rachel said.

"What if they have your ID?" Grue asked.

"They should," Rachel said. "Why won’t they think of that? If they

======== SAMPLE 14 ========
hookus

Tattletale: If we are doing all this for him, why do we get the information?"

"Because Coil told us to, so you might as well use it because you’re not getting enough."

"How many capes are on his team?" Coil asked, after a few sentences of silence.

"Less than one or two dozen."

"That’s two minutes."

"I’ll give you a minute to think, then I’ll explain what we were going to do. For starters, we need to talk. I want to get this over with. I’ll come back in a second, if you need me to."

"Deal."

"You’ll be able to hear what I have to say in a second, Taylor. Give Armsmaster a voice before you do any more damage in that regard."

"Deal. I will."

We were a little more than midway through the meeting when Regent spoke, "Tattletale? Coil said they were going to talk to Coil. We’ll have to see what Coil’s next move is."

"Deal," Clockblocker said.

"I’ll see Coil next," I told him, "Take your time. I’ll hold your attention while I explain the plan."

He gave me his nod, but he looked like he was struggling to keep his attention on what I was telling him and on the subject of his next step in Coil’s plan, as he started fidgeting with a pair of needles he was working with the other members of Coil’s team.

I’d made him work so many.

"And that is what we discuss."

Clockblocker nodded once.

"Then you’ll see Coil next," I announced. He went to his bedside and lay down in the black leather pillow and chair that had been positioned beside his head.

"Tattletale?" I asked, as he opened his eyes.

"I don’t know," she said.

"That’s alright. Tattletale, Coil, Armsmaster…"

I didn’t have to wait for a response. She’d been working for Coil before the war came. We’d gotten her on board the board, along with the Undersiders. She’d gotten Coil’s attention in doing so. Coil had taken notice.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

"I’ll leave a moment," I said. "Take your time."

She moved her head to Coil’s right to see why, after looking to his right, then to his left. Once that was done, she left.

I didn’t have to wait long. Armsmaster was a bit younger, not quite as tall as Clockblocker but he had a more muscular build and was noticeably muscled. Armsmaster had a lot more muscle than Clockblocker and was the biggest of the group. Tattletale had been a bit older, but Clockblocker had seemed much younger than Clockblocker at the last meeting.

I could see Armsmaster looking at him, taking his seat. Coil was in the lounge too. I’d decided it would be best to sit in the chair as I’d done when I’d told Tattletale to leave. Coil was sitting with Armsmaster and Regent while Armsmaster sat on the sofa and Clockblocker was on his knee. Armsmaster sat just beside Clockblocker on the armchair, which made him the one I could see the most.

At some point during the meeting, Armsmaster had told Coil that he would be staying with me for a couple years to keep me company and get him in line with the rest of Coil’s team. I’d explained that to Armsmaster and his wife. I’d said, for that matter, that Coil had a pretty strict code of conduct and no exceptions for someone he didn’t work for anymore, so Armsmaster’s dismissal made sense to me, since Coil’s actions didn’t necessarily match up with his public image.

I’d asked him to keep him around for that period, but he had been very reluctant at first and then had been willing to comply. I kept him around.

Armsmaster’s absence was one of those missed opportunities where I’d just sort of got something, and I could tell Armsmaster was one of the people I’d been keeping close by for that purpose.

Tattletale had a picture that Tattletale knew, but I didn’t know Coil’s father

======== SAMPLE 15 ========
hooked.

If she was going to die, there wasn’t much she could do for the time being than wait a bit. There was only more than enough time.

"Bastard! I think she’s just lost her temper!" a small boy’s voice came from the front. It wasn’t a name. "She is very angry! She’s a villain with a plan, which is the kind of thing that’s always worked out."

"Troubleshoot," Sophia’s dad said.

A girl with a red and yellow hood in a school uniform?

I turned back to the portal.

There was a pause. A moment.

No… There was an explosion.

No. Not this time.

Something had hit the portal. Another person, something I didn’t know.

How had someone found the portal? What had the Protectorate or other groups done?

Was it something I’d never seen? The other dimensions?

I sighed. The time had gone.

If this was the kind of world Taylor had been fighting to save, then I might feel a bit sorry for her. Not that I had much love for the little girl. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

I glanced back to see Taylor looking at the portal. I’d expected a warning. I didn’t even see her look back. Even the man at the front of the shop, a woman I didn’t recognize, hadn’t reacted in any way.

She must have seen me, I suspected.



"How?" she whispered.

"Too late. He’s going to come back, and he’ll bring his guy and this guy. Who knows, he might even do the same with these guys. So we have to run. I don’t know that he’ll let her through to the Endbringer if he doesn’t hurry," I said. I turned back to the portal. "He’s going to kill her as soon as he sees her. If that’s not enough, she might come back and kill him before it’s over."

"Oh god no. She can kill him, she isn’t weak. Can’t even touch him with her power or that power of hers. He’s only going to hurt us, and he’ll just get a bigger power and stronger."

I pointed at the portals. "Stop them."

"What?" one Protector’s voice sounded.

"If he comes back in time, we leave right away. This won’t backfire."

"What?"

"My daughter? She will kill him."

"Not his power," I said.

"Okay," I said. I glanced at Miss Militia. No. That was not a yes. I had to look away from the portal. She’s there, but she’s nowhere to be found. I’ll be forced to look back in time.

"I’ll get you, Skitter!" Sophia’s mom’s voice sounded.

"I’ll find you," I said. "Don’t know if he will or not."

"But he won’t harm me then."

I looked to the portal. It still sat open. The doors slid open without her, but the girl’s form moved to keep the portal from opening.

"He will not harm your daughter," I said. I turned back to the portal. "I’ll wait a moment while you find her. We’ll discuss the matter at a later date."

The girl had moved to close the portal. The portal remained intact.

I turned my attention back to the portal. A black figure in a green skinned costume with blue-gray armor and glowing green eyes emerged, drawing a circle on the surface, and I could see the portal dissolve as it entered.





Interlude 6.4


This was a strange place. The buildings weren’t the same, the buildings had been ripped down, and the streets were more or less intact. All too often, as it had in several cities the Protectorate had visited, a little vandalism, too much or too small a part of an already existing situation.

But some parts were here. The most obvious was that part of the door that led to the rooftop that lead to the top floor of the building. In other words, the portal was there, it was small, you could see where it was, and you would never know if it was really there. If it was more than

======== SAMPLE 16 ========
hooks_lose_regen on damage taken)

"Howdy, Skitter, your first visit to our headquarters?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You can say you have something to say to me." I said.

"It sounds rude, don’t you think? My name’s Regent and I’d like to inform you that I’re here for business and I’ll have a couple of visitors in the room if you don’t have something to say to me."

Regent nodded. It was just like I’d envisioned. A meeting with Coil.

"So, you and Skitter?" he asked.

"We’re friendly. Like Coil said, like I said, I’ll let you know when anything does happen. I’m trying to keep you out of my hair, even if I don’t always succeed."

"I’m sure Coil’s an evil, villainous prick," Coil said.

"I can’t speak for Coil. If I could, I might go on record and say I didn’t think he’d kill Coil before Coil did, but Coil has been known to do what he wants, or what he wants as seen on his shows. Not to mention the amount of money he spends on making a show and the amount of people who will watch, and Coil doesn’t have a lot to lose when he sets up shop in Brockton Bay. You and Skitter are not the first of my customers."

He glanced over the room, "If I wasn’t going to let it slide, what else could I use to justify this visit?"

I’d taken my time getting to my feet, and I’d already left when I heard Coil’s voice crack.

Cockney? Or perhaps Krieg?

Regent frowned.

"Skitter?" I asked.

She glanced at one of the cameras, at her teammates.

The camera shifted position. Coil’s face was on the cover, as the camera pointed to the ground. Coil was kneeling.

Another camera followed a little more closely, to ensure the face was being taken. Coil stood and raised his head from the news camera, then bowed.

"So, what are you two here for?" Coil asked. "We’re talking business."

"I’m doing business," I said. "I’ll be back in twenty minutes, so watch out."

He nodded and walked away.

I could hear the clattering floorboards behind me. Coil had apparently stepped out into the hallway to confront the PRT.

"Hey, Clockblocker," Clockblocker said.

"We’re here for business," Dragon said.

"You mean it’s an undercover operation?" Coil asked.

"No."

"You’d have to tell Coil that, for him to believe it," I said. "He’d have to corroborate what she told me."

"She’s right," Clockblocker said.

"So, what would you need us to do here?" Coil asked, "Skitter, do a little research. A lot. I’m a guy with a lot of history in getting things done for someone before they get to the point where they need me. In fact, for my most recent capes, I went the route of getting them their jobs done for free, as I approached a large organization and they couldn’t agree, at least not with Coil’s guys."

The camera moved to show Coil’s face, face that would have made Skitter blush.

"And how do you know Coil would have done something like that?" Coil asked.

"Because the PRT’s information agency, the PRT, is owned by Coil," Coil said. "They made Coil one of their members, then left him to run the organization."

"Then it’s a PRT-run organization," the camera said.

"Yeah," Coil said.

"And Coil’s a person of many talents," I said.

"I knew that," Clockblocker said, turning away, "When it came down to it. No points. Just saying. You two, you don’t have any experience in capes like we do, and you’re old members who could probably use some education. Good luck."

"Thanks," I said, nodding.

Clockblocker and Dragon made their way down the hall, and Coil was standing by the door.

"Any questions?" Coil asked Tatt

======== SAMPLE 17 ========
hooks’s teeth and the blood stream.

He was, after all, a former hero.





Siberian 13


"We need a bit more time," I told the others. I knew that they had been watching the others carefully. That alone was reason enough to give them their due, and I’d felt more confident about it after I’d read up on them.

"I'm surprised you didn’t mention the curfew," Coil commented.

"No. This was a matter for my superiors. I think I will, then. No curfew, no contact, no interaction with the public."

Coil made her way to the elevator and closed the door.

I sat there with the others, the elevator open.

She could have stayed at the bank, but Lung had to come down there and then get her to the station. So she was off to bed.

I was grateful she was awake, and relieved to see her out of her shell. The woman who’d taken over Lung’s operation, the person who had the power to change the lives of others.

We were still too far away from him to do anything to him, with the fight he’d won and the threat he was providing.

We set our sights on meeting up with him, but I decided to look out the window as the others entered the room. I didn’t look in his direction. Instead, I turned around to face him.

He’d stopped to take in the view, as had everyone else, and was looking back at the window, as if he’d just come up to a cliff edge and needed to make a mental note of where to start and where to end up. It had been a long day.

We’d lost more people to the Endbringer attack than we had in the previous three years, but my swarm was stronger than Coil’s, and I’d been able to work with him in a much faster and less conspicuous fashion. I’d figured he’d be hard pressed to make his way back to the group that had caught him. As it was, he’d split into four groups, and now I had to adjust myself so I didn’t attract attention, which had been a struggle even with the fact that we’d been operating as a group. I was trying to get Coil to see it in a mirror, to see what he’d been in this moment.

Coil glanced at her, and she responded.

"I think you are too old for me," he commented.

She didn’t need a reason. Coil’d said he was too older.

"Are the others older?" Coil asked. He glanced at me, and I didn’t look away from him, turning away from him without looking away.

"They’d be around thirty to forty at this point," I answered him. No point looking at what he was doing with his back to me.

"Oh, I could have said it. You are sixty-four. Three-sixty," Coil’d finished his thought, "Two, two, two."

"You could be older, and still be in pretty good shape. You look better," he said, turning the chair around so it sat on our left.

"I’m fine," I responded. I looked up at him, and he glanced at the others with an exaggerated grin, not really meeting my eyes.

He had the best eyes for the job. I could feel him on the wall, watching them, analyzing.

When he was done, he asked, "Is it really too bad, then?"

"Is my team and I going to meet him?" Tecton pointed to one of the guys. Coil had stopped to look at him. "Or does he think he’s going to meet us all at some future time? When do we meet?"

"I do like how I have an excuse to meet Coil in the future, after I’ve dealt with him," Grue commented. "That is the biggest plus."

"We meet, we talk."

"He leaves, we meet. He leaves alone, he doesn’t know us or what we’re doing, or what our goals are. That might mean we’ll meet where he’s not even there."

"He doesn’t know us. Maybe you’ll meet a person or two or three of our kind somewhere down the line. Or we may meet at another point. Or both."

"I could meet him before then."

"You’d have to do that, but then he

======== SAMPLE 18 ========
hooks on them. You were talking about the fight, right?"

"What about the fight with Leviathan? It’s not as close to a close fight as they thought it was," I said. I felt a sudden panic as I realized what Kai had said to me. "It takes a lot of time. Maybe I’m losing track of the bigger picture."

"I… I think it’s going to be fine. I thought the fight would last for weeks or months, maybe months. There’s no real reason to worry and expect trouble tonight."

I nodded.

Kai had said the fight would likely occur during the Endbringer’s final confrontation, and I’d heard that his exact wording was vague. In theory, that battle would be a battle royale involving powerful Endbringer foes. It could have happened earlier in the year if I hadn’t taken so long to run from the fight in my group, or if I hadn’t been distracted while the Undersiders and Parahumans all gathered at the lake. In reality, it seemed more probable that one of the first battles would be at the Endbringer’s own home.

"Okay," I said the words. "Thank you."

"I think I should go now," Kai said. He stood from the railing and headed for the front door, "If there’s any questions. You got your phone out, so I could check for any texts or calls from you, for your account. Just need you to show us a few things up front and I can get you a new one. Okay?"

"Sure, Kai," I said, heading for the side entrance.

He had been talking with one of Dragon’s PR women on the phone. I could almost imagine it. The girl’s voice was crisp and smooth. "I’m heading off to see the hospital, and I’ll be back at the door in a minute or two. It’s all part of my call-in show."

"I’m on my way there," Grue said, "Got five minutes."

I took the phone and sent Kai a quick message, "Just wanted to say thanks for taking care of Dragon."

■

The elevator door slammed shut as I stepped off into the lobby. I watched Dragon enter through the front doors, then glanced at Kai who sat at the far side of the desk. They were in close proximity, and the doorframe was at his right shoulder. It made for the closest thing I could think of to a 'tweet' from Kai, in terms of length and content.

I didn’t know Kai well enough to get a good read, but I had to assume he was old enough that he probably didn’t know Dragon was there.

Kai sat from his seat and stared at the computer for a long, long time. Then he sighed.

"The last show on the show will be at two," he said, taking the computer from Kai’s hands. He handed the computer to me, "Kai, I want you to write the lyrics and cover art for the show. Your cover will be used to promote the show, and it’ll be sent to the show runners, along with the show tickets. The artists you have chosen from the audition will be discussed at the end of the interview process. I’ll also tell you about the show when I’ve reviewed all of the audition clips and audition videos."

Kai walked over to the computer with the computer.

Kai sat down with the computer at his side, staring at the screen for a long time.

"Just want to know that there’s nothing else on the subject. I’ll write it all myself, and you can check your emails. Thanks, Kai."

■

In a way, I’d thought I was a little surprised that he was making this call in public. It had struck me during the audition because it sounded a lot like PR, and I’d worried I was misreading him. I’d never gotten anything directly from Kai before. It had been a few minutes before the phone had been left in his hands, and it was only after I’d spoken with Kai that I’d gotten the full context. The rest of me was surprised he was standing there.

I found the phone and held it out to him, looking for the words or the message. If I gave him those words, he’d just be left to guess what I’d intended. My only other thought was that I needed to make sure it was the right message. He hadn’t seemed to have read it.

"Thank you, Kai

======== SAMPLE 19 ========
hook" I’m doing is the best way to get to the root causes of the problem, like, say, poverty, crime, violence against women or domestic abuse. It allows you to have a conversation about all these people, all these issues and people. I think it really gets at the core of why the city is so unstable, why the violent and the dangerous elements are just going to sit around and go with what suits them best, rather than go to the streets and create havoc in their neighborhoods."

"You’re more of a pacifist than I am, by the way," Coil asked me.

"I try to use my power to get the maximum of utility out of each fight, regardless of the outcome. I’ll try something different this time."

He raised a pistol-tipped finger.

"You don’t look like the kind of man to be a gun."

He didn’t answer him. He moved closer and spoke, "It’s the best way to stop a bad guy with a gun, then."

For some reason, Coil didn’t make any movements forward.

I turned my head, saw a girl with a knife in her belt coming closer, moving toward a building with two men at the center.

"She should be able to handle herself. You do that a little, and I might let you go. I’ll take care of her," Coil answered his question.

"You won’t trust anyone, not her, not me. Anyway, don’t tell me you’ll let her go. She might be right. Maybe you could make her stay, but… maybe you shouldn’t. She might not be good for us."

"The other two of you would be nice to see again. You and Clockblocker had a chance to give me an answer."

"I’d expect you two to help me get my bearings," Coil said. "We’ll take a tour around the city. I’ll have you make your way back."

"We aren’t walking along busy streets," I said. I could see him turning his head to one side, looking at the ground, to his right. "I know where it is, where I can climb."

Coil grinned. "Don’t say it, Lisa! You don’t have the guts to make a fool of yourself!"

"I’ll take care of you," Lisa protested, her voice loud enough to be heard over Coil’s. The crowd was too small to make out the female voice. "I’ll take care of Lisa, too."

"I’d rather be at her feet than anywhere near your territory," I said. "I should get back to you. I’m worried."

I turned my attention to Coil, "My territory might not be safe."

"I’ll stay back there. Not so obvious a place to be, if you’re scared of Coil."

I nodded, shifting my foot to take the back path.

We found a safe distance away from Bitch and her dog, The Bulldog.

It was good, I thought. I’d seen this coming. I was not sure how I could have handled this better.

I set about running toward Coil. Lisa was at the intersection of Battery’s route outside of Coil’s territory, herding a dozen girls and a dog toward the fence of the building.

"The fuck you talking about, Tattletale?" Coil asked.

"It’s Coil. What do you want to call us? An alliance, if you will. We’ve got a lot of the same goals, a lot of common interests, but… Coil would prefer to put us on a level playing field, instead of making us into a dangerous, dangerous lot."

"I’ll be in touch," Coil said.

"When you’re not in such close proximity to me or Bitch."

Coil smiled, but he didn’t hold a gun. The girl he was walking toward reached out and grabbed him with one hand.

"I’d like to think I’d get my wish," he said.

Lisa looked between us.

"I don’t suppose you could tell me? If I didn’t meet your expectations, would you please take the bait? If I did meet them, would you inform me and Coil that they’ll have to be a little more careful with me than they did with Bitch and Bonesaw?"

The dogs were small-eared, not one of Coil’s breeds,

======== SAMPLE 20 ========
hooks me all over for being a coward and a bitch."

"I’m not a coward."

"Then why are you talking about me if you don’t have anything to say to anyone?"

"She’s dead, and she’s got nothing to say to us. You shouldn’t be using that power, unless you want your friends to find out you’re using the power, you bitch."

"Taylor, you are still here, you’re still alive. So why do you have to keep talking? We’re out of time."

I raised my voice, "There’s three major reasons. One is because she’s one of the few people I’m able to trust. I would die defending you on a second’s notice if it came down to it, or I’d use my power to kill you in a heartbeat."

"I can’t kill you in a heartbeat. It’s a fucking fucking bitch of a choice. I’ll live or die."

"I won’t need to. I’ll leave."

"Taylor, you’ll be leaving, for good. I want this conversation to move to your teammates, get you on board. I’ve brought this up with you a few times before. You’ve kept your mouth shut, I’m telling you it’s time for some serious changes. And there isn’t anyone there to support you in this endeavor. Are you going to follow through?"

"I’ll leave, before I’m stuck here when the Protectorate shows up."

"I see. I’ll see you guys in a year."

"Not now."

"Okay. When you do make it to your destination, I’ll pick up the pieces and come looking for you. Don’t let her get you, or she’s going to get her."

"Alright."

"I will stay in contact with you."

I put my hand in Tattletale’s bag, "You’ll call me when you're done."

"Deal." She took the bag, holding out a pair of headphones for me to take.

"I hope this is helpful." I handed one over. "Tipping would be nice."

"It’s a lot of work, considering you have a team of heroes that’re as bad for your image as them are good for your own. I know you can get away with this if you’d like, but you should at least try to do what’s right. If you’re just talking to yourself in public, it’s probably okay for you, but I’ll leave you two and the people who I’d need if you choose to get the real Taylor involved. If you’re just talking to me privately, maybe you’ll be able to avoid me getting involved, but that’s one more way to screw with me."

"I’m not the kind to go it alone," I offered, "You guys have been keeping this kind of thing a secret since the start. The good news is that the Undersiders are out there, and there’s an official Protectorate contingent with badges and a name. It doesn’t hurt."

"It’s fine," she said.

"You’re still going to want to find a way to discredit Taylor."

"I’m not the sort of girl she needs to tell," I replied, shaking my head, "She will tell you. A little later. I’ll wait another half hour to see how it goes."

"I could bring that guy, but I don’t see why she’d have to do anything else."

"I’ll be a little late to be joining the fray, and I’ll need a copy of your old PRT uniform if I bring one," I said. I’d already sent a message with the phone, and Tattletale was going to follow up with a text to see who it had been sent to.

"I don’t care about PRT uniforms."

"But you’ve said she won’t be leaving the PRT," I added.

"It’s on her agenda," Tattletale answered, "No other agendas. You don’t want her working against me, or against anyone. She just wants to get the job done."

"I don’t trust her as a team leader," I retorted, "Not on

======== SAMPLE 21 ========
hook at a key moment."

"I can see your eyesight, but you should have known I wouldn’t take your bait. You would not be caught dead-handed in battle if you got in my way."

"That’s not a good excuse."

"A thief can steal."

"There’s no point to this if we’ll just kill you. How long do you think it’ll be until we actually do get to see you?"

He shook his head. His face was a little more wrinkled with age. He did look younger, though, which wasn’t a good sign.

"I’ll explain. This is important to me, because I want to keep things in balance. I don’t want this country to descend into anarchy over who can carry out their assigned tasks. When I took over—"

"The PRT’s not in charge of us."

"I do. I have a stake in controlling people’s lives. What I need the people who can’t carry out my job for me. Not everyone on my team can do that."

Tattletale frowned. "I think the others might have had an inkling. You didn’t."

"I had. You are still there, by design, and I think you’ll have a vested interest in keeping it that way."

"Why?"

"If I had control, I could make the government work for me. I wouldn’t have as many rules, and I’d still have to check in with the rest of you after the fact. There’s the rub. If you don’t get caught, I’ll see what I can do. It’s… not ideal, or convenient, but I’m working towards it. It’s a tradeoff."

"So this is our game plan, then?"

Rachel leaned forward and gave Jake his own shoulder to lean against.

"A tradeoff I have to make. I’d have to put you and the rest of the city at risk, but I’d have to give you what you need and you want without putting the city out of action. Which means I’d have to cut loose, take the city back from you?"

"You want to make me, and you want to use me? Are you a guy who’ll let the city go to hell if his team isn’t there for him in time?" Jake asked Taylor.

Rachel smiled.

"You want to take me to get beat up, you mean!" the blonde boy yelled out the window.

Jake’s heart was in his throat, but he didn’t move a finger.

"That’s fine," Tattletale said. She took a seat on the chair next to his. She stood, straightening her tie and pulling it over one shoulder. "I’ve been through enough as a leader. I’m not a good judge of character. I’ll tell you that."

"I’m not in a position to argue against that."

"I could ask you," he said, walking toward the desk. "You won’t say yes, you’ll say no."

"I can only assume you mean it this way because you expect me to help, here. That’s not a bad thought. Let’s not get carried away, then?"

He smiled, "I’ll give a little more information if you don’t insist on it."

"I’ll do that. I could ask you something in private, though."

He didn’t have much to do. He watched Taylor, who took a seat on the bench by the monitor, and listened.

"What is it you desire?" he asked. "A conversation, or a conversation with me? Should I take any action now?"

"You want to stop. You want me back, and you want more of me."

"What does it matter if I’m gone, or that you stay? It’s not just Taylor you’re worried about. You’re worried me. I’m here for the greater good, and I’m here to make things right."

"Yeah," Jake muttered, as he stood to his feet.

"We’ve done a good job this morning, though. I’ll meet you at the next stop."

She headed toward the door, a hand on the button to start the elevator. Jake waited, watching as Tattletale stepped forward.

"

======== SAMPLE 22 ========
hooks-yours.com.au/

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All Rights Reserved.<|endoftext|>The latest release of KDE Applications will be made available for download, starting on March 16th on Linux. This means your choice of applications for your daily needs, based on the latest updates, will update on a regular basis as well as a few new ones.

Here's a brief overview of what you have to look forward to.

The Desktop



Our most recent release of KDE Applications will be available as a beta client. This means we are releasing an early preview of what is to come. We also have plans to release additional desktop versions to ensure everyone has what they need during launch.

This is intended for developers and small shops. There may be more devices after release.



The Desktop

KDE Applications 1.10.3 is currently available as a standalone install with the latest version of KWin.



The Desktop

KDE Applications 1.10.3 has been placed on the beta channel on the Linux distribution that the applications were released on. The following users are being updated today:



The KDE Connect client has been updated to version 1.1.912.

KDE Applications 1.10.3 is available from the KDE Downloads channel or directly from the download site. Please choose an operating system as the distribution of your choice and click Download.

KDE Applications 1.10.3 downloads should be available from March 16th-20th.





The Desktop

KDE Applications 1.10.2 is available from the KDE Downloads channel or directly from the download site. This release is also the first release for Linux. Please choose an operating system as the distribution of your choice and click Download.



The desktop

Please note that download links might be unavailable while the new versions are being pushed out.



The GNOME desktop


The GNOME desktop

The GNOME desktop was introduced in November 2006. It was designed with the goal of making the desktop more user friendly. Currently, the GNOME desktop is available to download in two flavors:

Standard

The Standard desktop provides access to the applications in the standard category. It provides an overview of application settings, a list of installed applications, and a number of pre-set options.



The Advanced

This variant allows the user to toggle between the Standard and the Advanced variants of the GNOME desktop. The Advanced is a more customized user experience. The settings and settings of the Advanced variant are not available for free.



Note that if you would like to disable or uncheck application-specific customization options, you may need to disable the advanced version of the GNOME desktop.



If you have any questions on how to install the GNOME desktop, please don’t hesitate to e-mail me at bens@gandalf.org



The Desktop



The KDE Downloads page has been updated to reflect the KWin installation information that is applicable to the Desktop and Applications categories.



The KDE Applications page has also received numerous updates in the last few days. You may want to check the new versions on this page before you upgrade to the next release.



The Applications category




Since version 1.9.8, our main categories have been based on GNOME and

======== SAMPLE 23 ========
hook one, and the others went to the front door.

"Let her out," I said. "She knows how far she’ll get here anyways."

"She said I wasn’t allowed back in."

"I’m letting her out," I said. "We’ll do our due diligence on that, and see if there’s any more trouble out there."

"We don’t need you."

"Don’t know if I can fight the Endbringer," I said.

"We’ll figure that out," I said, as everyone in the group headed into the house.

I had just reached the front door when I saw Alexandria turn around, her flashlight pointed at the ground.

"Where are the Wards?" Clockblocker asked. He waved his hand in Alexandria’s direction as she got closer.

"Shaft, she said they’ll be there," Alexandria said, sounding more concerned than anything. "But they won’t be here tomorrow. Clockblocker could have been right."

I nodded again. Was this the same group as the one the Endbringer had attacked?

"I told Clockblocker," Alexandria said, "It’s dangerous."

"Just stay here," I said.

"That’s too much to expect in case of trouble," Clockblocker said.

"I’m a good guy, Alexandria," Clockblocker said, "No. It’s better if I give out that order and go to the front, as a group for the safety of everyone else, when we can talk about it with our teammates."

There was a pause.

"If I have to go back, I won’t," Clockblocker admitted.

"Why not? You can meet them outside the house, right? The Wards and their friends will look after the Wards and their teammates if there’s trouble."

"We don’t have anyone from the Wards," Alexandria said.

"We won’t," Clockblocker said.

The line of thought was that if this thing started getting out of hand and the Wards were forced to evacuate their city and the area around it, they’d lose a piece of their team.

But, Alexandria thought, that was so wrong. There had been a girl, there was a guy. She was a member of the group, the people she’d met were the Wards, her teammates.

She was just about to get into her car when a gunshot ringed the air.

The front door was shot through. Alexandria was on her feet in a second, and the house itself was a blur. She was a small, pale girl, and I wasn’t quite sure if she was the one, or if I should try to put the idea into words, or what. The scene was surreal, and something else might be going on than my own mind grasping at straws.

I felt her presence. She was the only thing I could see without seeing through her power, and I was able to feel it.

But I was too distracted to think. My bugs ran amok as the crowd gathered in one place.

I was forced to make a call. Alexandria, Clockblocker, Velocity, Regent and Tattletale all made their way outside, Alexandria’s flashlight pointing to the scene. Tattletale, Tattletale, Tattletale, Imp and Imp all moved to try and keep Clockblocker and Defiant from seeing. Defiant was still a ways away, but the others should try to slow him down.

They were not very cooperative with Defiant, especially. There was no sense in it when Tattletale was standing right next to her.

There was only one thing to do. This was the end result of months of planning, the very beginning of a whole that I was already starting to build. That was the end of the series for me.

I’ll take my time, I thought.

A bullet passed through Clockblocker’s shoulder as Alexandria went into the room where the injured were. I recognized him by the bandages that were now covering his head, shoulders and arms. Grue was looking at him as he passed, not with interest, but with concern. Legend, for his part, seemed unimpressed by the news coverage.

"I’ll explain things if Defiant doesn’t," Alexandria said.

"Right." Clockblocker spoke, his voice gentle. "I’m going to say thank you. If you didn’t ask, I couldn’t do it."

"Thank you

======== SAMPLE 24 ========
hooks up on the third floor," I said. "Don’t make this hard and fast."

"He’s a very skilled, very fast, skilled individual," Lisa said. "He’ll use the opportunity and a little luck to keep himself in the black."

I nodded. "But not when I’m around him."

"He’s a great deal tougher than he appears that way," Lisa said.

Lisa got her phone out and turned to the door, then gave me a little more eye contact. She glanced up at me, "If you want to come out to the elevator, go."

After I left my apartment, I reached into the car and took out my phone; Lisa was already typing for me.

I typed out a message, ‘Liked your costume, I’d pay you back’. If anyone had a question, I told them, ‘I’d talk’.

Lisa gave me a hug, and I got to thinking, Was our group a bit of a loose cannon? Was we just as likely to be in a band together as someone else’s group?

We’d gathered with Bitch for breakfast, Bitch had brought along Taylor, and Grue had asked Grue to keep an eye on Bonesaw, which meant I got to chat with Sophia, who was wearing a t-shirt that read ‘Bonesaw’, in small caps so people would think it was a joke.

It was a small group, I admitted, and when I said, ‘I’d like to talk politics with Coil’, I really didn’t mean it as a compliment. I really wanted to talk politics with Coil.

As I typed the text, I realized the tone had changed from the moment we’d joined the group. It hadn’t been a conversation I’d been in a lifetime ago, but Coil’s response was much more direct, to the point that it felt like it could have been the start of a heated argument.

"You are listening in," Coil said.

"That’s not a question," I said, not pausing there, "No. Coil is not listening in. If he does, he will find out we’d taken the same route to get in contact with him."

"So you’re going in?" Coil asked.

"I’ll have to use a special trick I have yet to get my hands on," I said. "In our conversation, I’m going to have to put him on the defensive, because I don’t know whether or not he wants to be defensive himself and defend himself."

Coil was on his feet when I arrived. The phone had been stolen, I could see the lockset on Tattletale’s back pockets.

"We’ll be staying up until two in the morning if necessary," I said. "You’ve been a little bit late on that front."

"It’s nothing."

"You were too late," I said. "I mean, I know you guys are all pretty tight-lipped, but you’d have come and gone at nine, and it’s almost a week since we saw each other. You were already gone, I would’ve left you hanging, and I’m pretty sure Taylor hasn’t left Coil."

"Told you. Don’t know why Coil would have left Taylor hanging," Tattletale said.

And Taylor was gone.

"How do you know this?" Coil asked.

"What are your powers? Are they only there to make up for your power, or is your power more malleable than normal? I don’t know exactly what my power’s doing, but you seem to be more powerful than the average human is," I commented.

He laughed. "Then maybe you should take care of that."

"You’ll have to convince me to give you some real training," I said. "I’m not much of a martial artist, not exactly."

"You’ll have to convince me that this is just something else, Taylor. The way I’ve talked to Coil and Grue, they’ve never told me that what I’ve been doing with my power could hurt someone."

I’d known Tattletale had been through a rough patch, and maybe she had been in a better position to be a sounding board. But Coil had said Taylor was a powerful cape, and I suspected his reasoning hadn’t changed. Tattletale had made it pretty clear he doubted

======== SAMPLE 25 ========
hooks me off."

"Can I have my phone? Maybe we can call you back at a later time if we need to."

"And the dogs’ caddy?"

"I won’t want them getting involved." I glanced at Lisa’s apartment. The man, Brian, had a bedside table and a TV hung on the wall. He had a computer. The woman, Victoria’s sister, had a laptop in the corner, under the TV’s covers. Victoria had one or two laptops tucked away, not on display.

"Victoria," I gestured to Brian. He nodded quickly.

Brian opened the door’s plastic door and stepped inside, leaving me to find myself in Victoria’s apartment.

Victoria’s hair was long, a little too much, at the ends, framing a full head taller than she was, but she looked so pretty I doubted she could use her own magic to cover her face with her hair. There were her glasses, with the shades the way they should have been cut, the same way I’d wear my headphones, which didn’t seem to be the case. She’d probably have her hair up in the front of her head when she wasn’t looking at the TV, or maybe a bra wouldn’t be a problem. My own hair was a mess, but I did have to comb through it. Victoria had some old clothes on her nightstands, a few books in her bedroom ‘to read’ and a large suitcase in the living room. All of that, I could find no less than an hour’s worth of stuff to look through.

I’d tried to explain the idea to Brian and Victoria’s parents and they’d both understood the concepts. I was just saying there was more to it.

A strange feeling swept over me. It wasn’t a feeling that jolted and startled me, but that I couldn’t put my finger on. The only thing I found familiar was what felt so familiar. I couldn’t help but notice the change in Victoria’s features of clothing and haircut, the change in the sound of everything going on around me. It wasn’t just the sounds of her voice, either. It was the way she changed her hair and the way she was dressed, the way she made herself laugh.

It got worse. I reached into my jacket’s pocket and retrieved the wallet without looking, holding it in my hand.

"Go," Lisa said. She was standing by Brian’s side of the couch. Was Brian asleep?

Victoria hurried to her bedroom, pulling the door to the side to hide her clothes on the bedside table. She walked over and found Victoria staring off into the distance, a single book in one hand and a phone in the other.

"I thought you guys were going to be back." Brian spoke.

Victoria nodded. She went into one of the rooms and closed the door. I felt Lisa come to sit on the chair beside Brian. The room was small but tidy. A bedroomette with a dresser and dresser drawer. It was a small place, with one closet with a little closet on the side, a bookcase on top and the TV and the stereo next to it.

Brian’s room was less tidy, with little of Lisa’s style in there. There was a small TV placed on the wall, one of those on every wall, and a half-full glass of beer on the table at the far end of the room. We were not in close proximity to Victoria.

Lisa opened the bedroom door and took it quickly. In one motion she led Brian’s jacket back out the door and into the hallway that separated the upstairs from the downstairs, as far as I could tell.

"How’s the little girls? Lisa?"

"I was in a situation where I might have wanted to get a better look to make sure they weren’t in trouble, but then my phone rang. I answered to get Victoria’s number."

"I see. I can answer the phone."

"You and Lisa will be in the living room while I go to the kitchen to get her a cup of coffee," Lisa said.

It wasn’t a job interview. There were lots of people here. Victoria was a senior member of the Trio, the closest of the group. There were a lot of people in the room who weren’t Taylor, who weren’t Brian, and a lot who weren’t Victoria. I had to imagine the woman, wearing a green sweater and jeans, with one ear bud hanging back, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt by the fireplace

======== SAMPLE 1 ========
, or maybe I already knew that he could be."

"Then tell me what you can tell me."

He nodded, then said, "They were chasing my dog after I’ve finished. I’m so lucky that ’s not me running across the street."

"I… what am I doing?" Tattletale was still trying to process the situation.

The dogs ran again. There was a long exchange.

The second time around, there was no reply.

Tattletale stepped closer to the dog, leaned in and started cuddling him.

The dog was quick enough to get a hold of his paws and grab her hand.

"Did you see what I saw?" she asked.

"Yeah. I couldn’t see him because the shadows in the darkness were thick."

"Is he?"

"Yeah."

"If you could’ve seen his eyes, I guess you’d see him as a woman."

"He’s… not human."

There was something out of place in that line of thought, something that suggested this was a conversation to be had with an undercover reporter.

"I know," Tecton said. "But the information we got from you makes you sound like me, not him."

Another pause.

"Hey!" one of the other dogs sniffed, "Stop!"

"Not my opinion- or his," Tecton shot back. "We’re going to see your dogs once we’re free here. Maybe you can keep them for the night and train them up to fight with batons or a saw."

There was more muttering and shouting from the dogs. More dogs. More yelling.

I felt my blood run cold.

"Hey guys, what’s up?" Tecton called out. He didn’t say hello again. I waited for his answer before responding. "We’re not going to be letting you take this bitch, are we?"

"We’re not," Tattletale said. Her voice was quiet, as though she weren’t in a good place.

We’ve gone far enough, you can keep her. She said it with a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Why do you have to kill me?" someone shouted.

We’re going to beat a path to your homes until you get the message. We have a problem where there is a woman, a stray that runs away and it goes unreported to the authorities, and she shows up the next few minutes with blood on her fingers. The dog doesn’t come anywhere close to catching her. It takes her and one of the dogs that live with me a few minutes at a time to let her go.

We’re doing this for the reason. We’re going to have to take her.



Sting 27.3


"Just to be on the safe side, I’m leaving this dog in the custody of my sister. I have to," Tattletale said. "Tattletale can handle the paperwork if she’s still working tomorrow."

Tecton looked shocked.

"It’s good you decided to take it. Anyways, it’s only a shelter dog, and I have to be on time, so this will go off with little fuss and no incident. If I’m not late, it’ll be noted."

"If you’re just going to let it go. I’m not going to let it go, and I’ll let them call the cops on me. I’m not going to let anyone on the streets know what happen to it. They’re going to leave it as a shelter dog until we can find a new home anyway."

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her face.

We’re going to have to have a rescue team. We’re in an emergency situation, there’s really no other option, and we can’t afford to put them in a spot where they could be hurt or killed.



Sting: An Endbringer Occurrence 21.5


All of the dogs that were still running were covered, had turned on their sides or lay on their sides, their heads down. Two had been strayed from their owners, either because they were unwanted or they were scared. A few others, a few dogs that were new to the park and had only just arrived, had been left alone.

One was lying on an improvised stretcher. It had been placed onto a tarp that had been folded over one’s shoulders and was

======== SAMPLE 2 ========
, and I wasn’t sure if my body was being used or if she was being fucked up, too.

We were back on the road, I thought, and I was starting to feel like this was going to turn into a nightmare in seconds.

I’d wanted to see it. To hear it, to feel it without the mental block, to feel its full force. Not that my body would hurt to be inside her, but to be inside her and have my head and chest touched by the inside of her would be a little more painful than the real thing.

Then she had to ask me to help put it away, and it would be painful for her.

For me. She was her body and her will, her control and control of my head. If she did something she couldn’t do, I’d have to come up with a way to stop it, make her back down.

When we wound up back at camp, the wind began to pick up a little, and I looked up. The trees were bare, dark green, and the clouds were dark, but night was beginning to lift. No clouds, the day was still here.

I turned and looked at the sky again, watching the stars and the rain falling.

Three hundred and seventeen, I’d guessed, and I’d only been thirty days.

I stepped back.

The storm, the rain and the wind were all conspiring against myself. I was still using my mind’s eye to keep myself from drifting to sleep.

I stepped forward, then walked to the edge of the field. "You can’t run!"

She stood and walked to the other edge, and then dropped the device into place between us, a few inches from my ear. She picked the device up and held it out to me with one hand and raised the thumb-

The sound. Her voice.

I looked at the device.

It was a portable one, the size of a cell phone, maybe.

She asked me, "Do you need help figuring this out?"

I stepped back just behind her. She pressed one finger against my ear and I couldn’t quite hear it.

"Good. Let’s get out of here, then we can have a talk, you and I."

We’d talk, I wasn’t sure. My hand trembled. Maybe I’d like to hear it as I tried to think, to let the words slide, as to let them slide as well as if I could make them appear out of my mouth.

"Do you want to talk?"

"No. I don’t want you to," I said.

"Alright. You’re not talking to me. I’m making an entrance, and I can feel it. When I put this there, it was out of my control, not yours. It’s mine to control."

"You’re giving me that out of your own free hand."

"My own hand," she said.

"I don’t know if this is the right way." She hesitated.

Another time, maybe. But she had to do it. It had to work.

"You’ll find your head inside her if you let her go for long enough."

She didn’t turn around, but her attention was on the other person in camp with her, a blonde with a kind, calm disposition and a deep voice. There weren’t any eyes in her eyes, but it meant something. I knew the blonde, she’d seen me and this girl together, back at the hospital. She was the one that could have told the girl what to do.

The girl was also very close, but her body wasn’t there. She had taken off, and her body was still here, only less present. Her head, her hair… her face was so present, so complete. I looked at it, and that was too much.

She had been on her way to help the girl. It had been her idea, her order. But if I didn’t see it now, I might have missed it on the way to the hospital, too.

It was something I’d done on a routine basis before, but it’s something I’d done again, this time with the only possible benefit that was to be achieved: to put it in her place.

I turned around, not trusting myself to leave her, afraid of the worst.

She wasn’t looking at me. Her attention was on the other girl in the tent with her. She seemed to be in the midst of telling the stranger, her

======== SAMPLE 3 ========
, with the way she moved, the way the blade of her staff passed through her, and her constant presence.

It wouldn’t be enough to change things.

I made contact with her and began connecting the dots.

The girl with the flame was standing on a hill, with a long stream of black smoke trailing behind her. The black smoke flowed into a hole large enough to hide the girl.

The shadowed girl was standing a ways to either side, but she was holding her staff and using the shadows to block the lines of flame.

We’d caught the girl off guard.

With her being so different in terms of her powers, it was like she was born a different person.

In one breath, she was an angel, in the next, she’d be… her.

The girls continued to move.

The girl stood in one of the small buildings nearby and raised one hand, as though to signal us. In the smoke, there were the notes of how long ago the girl had been standing in that building with us, and the notes of how long ago the girl had entered it.

She pointed at us, and a shadow took her arm.

With her arm, like her arm, we reached for her.

She took us in a hug, then leaned in to whisper in the girl’s ear.

I watched for too long, watching in rapt awareness, and then collapsed the shadow in her direction.

Tattletale’s voice was deep, hard. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could make out the sound of her arm being broken.

The girl with the flame didn’t take her words into consideration. Her hand clamped down on her arm, "You weren’t there."

The girl with the stone knife was silent. She couldn’t move the wrong way.

A girl in her early twenties or early thirties came to our side, and the girl with the flame said, "No, you weren’t there."

Her breath was heavy, so heavy I was sure I might fall over. She wore a black skirt and a white and yellow long-sleeved shirt.

The boy with the burning hair was small. He had black hair, and he looked so tiny.

One of the girls was talking over the girl, "I told her to take you. Tell her to leave. That’s all this little girl needs to hear."

The girl with the flames was quiet, her head turning.

Another shadow moved next to her, and she gave a nod to the shadows.

She was a girl in her late twenties or early thirties with the flame of an old man, like a funeral dirge. She had a white jacket and black trousers, her hair was in disarray. As though it didn’t fit her, she wore jeans and a button-up shirt, and her skin shone with the heat of the flames.

The girl with the burning hair was quieter, as though she was too exhausted to talk. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her skin had started to burn.

The other girl in the crowd was in an old suit jacket, looking at the girl with the flame. The white jacket was ripped. The sleeves were torn, no doubt as much by use of the iron bars as by falling to the ground.

She was quiet, her head turning. Her face showed nothing but blood and the black smoke that had drifted in the black cloud around her.

"This is where you’re meant to go, in a way," another girl told her.

She stood, and the black smoke shifted from her to the girl with the flame.

The girl who’s hair grew more red.

She took the other girl’s hand in her mouth. She let the girl turn around so she had a hand in the girl who’s hair grew back, and the two girls stared at the two other boys in the crowd, waiting.

"She killed her. Didn’t go back to her, but she killed herself, and now we have to leave."

The girl with the burning hair glanced at the boy. He nodded.

Two boys. One man, the other a little child with burns that would keep him alive in a few months, but which they could help get better. He had a little girl’s face in his hands, his fingers were rough-looking, and a bandage draped on his face gave the look of someone who may have gone through more than they are capable of.

The girl’s chest heaved, and his hands seemed to turn the same way that she had. There wasn�

======== SAMPLE 4 ========
, with the amount of power he’d put it in. I don’t expect to have any power- I don’t want to use it in a fight, I don’t want to get hurt, so long as everyone is doing their job and obeying the laws of nature.

But he was talking to a dead end, one that I couldn’t figure out if he was on to something or his own thinking. He was talking to me, and I was talking back, to no avail.

I hadn’t even had a chance to look up, when an instant after that, a wall of white went up, a thousand, two thousand and four hundred foot tall barrier of metal stretching out in every direction, rising to meet the top. The entire top-left and top-right of my scope would meet nothing but the top-left and top-right of the surrounding barrier of metal.

It took a moment for me to get a grasp on just who was standing in the way, just what was blocking me, and then a second to feel where the other two towers were.

A thousand, two thousand and four hundred feet of metal appeared to stand above the first. Even with the power he’d put into it, the metal seemed to be made of iron, perhaps with a little bit of iron, perhaps just a bit of titanium, with brass at the edges. It was heavy for the height. The metal was too high.

The barrier was strong, but it was there, on every level, it was solid, solid metal, as strong and heavy as I was.

I could only hope that the other buildings in the immediate area wouldn’t see the light of my sight and fail to collapse into an all out battle between my heroes and Leviathan or my enemies. Had he been expecting any resistance from the heroes, or was he doing everything in his power to keep the rest of the city intact?

My range was short. I could only hope with enough luck that my power would cut through walls of metal and iron, and that there wouldn’t be any room for error in attacking the barrier. I wouldn’t need to deal with a hero at full power, or the power of any other individual with an idea of how to break the wall of steel and reach the building where there was no barrier of metal, so long as they could break it.

It was only when it was too late that a few heroes reached the barrier. Two or three, if it wasn’t that much. The heroes were able to break through. Two more or three of those heroes joined the fray as I was in the midst of breaking through the concrete and steel of the building. They charged me. Hadn’t I heard the noise when he’d left the door ajar?

Not all of them were bad guys, nor did any of them look the least bit like superheroes. Some were civilians, and even the heroes weren’t as diverse in color. I could see that the hero who was breaking through was wearing armor, and was carrying a shield and a massive rifle with an impressive weight advantage over me. I didn’t have the strength to move myself, but I knew how to attack.

It made for a very different kind of combat. If I was to choose between being a superhero or someone that was better skilled at fighting, and not making a difference, I would choose the former. Had the heroes that were here not realized that we were here for a purpose, if only for the sake of defending a city and its people? Were they going to hold back in the face of this? Were they not going to take matters into their own hands, and take the fight into their own houses and towns? Or were they going to just get their hands and fists dirty and make a name for themselves, the way most villains did? Or were they going to do that because they’d been left behind and would do it in the service of a greater cause, the cause of their country, the cause of humanity in general?

Or maybe, more likely, the reason someone was here tonight was that one of the five heroes had found and found a way to break through the barrier. The one that made it to the top was having one of those moments where you’re on a battlefield and you want to do the best with the opportunity, but you don’t know if you’ll be able to stop the flow of fire so thick enough to melt steel, let go of one of the barriers that was blocking you and step down. You need only one or two more seconds. I needed just one shot, and I had it.

I felt my power flow. I was breathing again. My stomach felt like I might explode, and my blood was boiling with adrenaline.

I was taking my time, looking through

======== SAMPLE 5 ========
, the world is still, and there seems to be no end to the chaos. I hope this won’t come to anything, because I’m leaving it in chaos until we can figure this stuff out.

I could go on, and I couldn’t come to any conclusion. They were right. I could see how I had spent too much time in there. It was a prison, a place I looked forward to escaping.

Maybe they were right. Maybe they were wrong.

It had all been built in by some people. It had all been built in a way that put the people with power above the rest.

They had to be the ones who were being wrong, the ones who were creating it all.

It wasn’t even true to nature. There were rules, certainties. I couldn’t get a handle on it, and I didn’t want to create one anyway.

I wanted to learn, and to explore, to use my power to get a better handle of things. What was the difference between knowing something and being a smart kid?

I couldn’t get a handle on that, either.

They’d set you up in this prison so you could be one of them.

No, I couldn’t get a handle on that either.

I could think about it, and I thought of how I’d deal with it. My dad would be one of the things I’d do something about, one of the things I could do something about.

It didn’t mean nothing. I didn’t like seeing his scars, my friends and family getting their head kicked in, the bodies he’d left behind. It wasn’t good, I felt, that he wasn’t the kind of person I would want my dad to feel better about having left me. But it was the only way I could think of to try and put this into context.

It took time. Until that point, I felt so lost, so lost in the same way that I felt like I couldn’t get a handle on things. It seemed so obvious, a thing I had to find out about, to be better than this.

But it was a place I would make it.

For the first time today, I was reminded of why I’d had to step up and do this.

And that made it a bit easier to look over my shoulder. The world was still, and I could see some things I’d overlooked as I looked at this thing, all over again, this place.

My dad had died long ago, I thought. I knew, I couldn’t be certain, but he might have been a fighter, had been a survivor.

I looked at him and I thought I would have a better idea if I could find the answers, if I could look at him as an equal, a friend, someone who could help me see more clearly than anyone else.

I couldn’t ask him what’d have happened without going to his family.

The thought made me feel like I had another question, a half question, half answer. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a small device. It was a handheld radio, small and sleek, and it was an answering machine.

If someone would have asked him what might have happened, whether he’d have been a hero, he would have said it would have ended the world.

It was another kind of question. If someone had asked him what would have happened if he had left.

I’d never let myself answer that one.

So now I’d have to ask that question to someone else.

It was a question I wanted to find answers for.

One answer. Another place, another time.

I’d ask this in the future, when I had time to think and think and think about it.

I reached into my pockets and retrieved a key chain. I could have worn it if I wanted to, if I wanted to look good and pretend I had no worries. I couldn’t do that. This was a prison that was built in a way that they would have put me in it without even knowing me, and I’d feel like a fucking prisoner in that.

It was a prison I hated for the same reasons I hated going out when the sun was up. It was a place I’d like to die in, if it came to that.

I reached into my power to give them something else to use. A ring. A symbol, to look up at. A name.

The girl was there.

She was younger, and her hair was blonde and unruly, her dress was

======== SAMPLE 6 ========
, she’d told him it was okay to break rules. He’d seen her in action in a world where the very concept of a rule was unthinkable.

I saw that with my own eyes, and I knew she was there to fulfill that role, to have to do this, or be on the receiving end of it. And, it was impossible for the rest of us to know, and I didn’t want to be out there, not if it was the closest and most obvious target that needed to be defended. I would just be doing her wrong.

Still, she’d gone for the kill orders. They hadn’t worked. They had only stopped when he’d given chase and she hadn’t been there to take the hit.

I watched her retreating as she made her way through the crowd to the hallway. I could see her retreating.

Gideon’s first shot struck her in the side as she moved to the floorboard, and she fell. She tried to scramble, to stay at a safe distance as she fell, and was pushed down into an empty chair by a man who couldn’t have been more than six feet tall. When his arm was no longer around her, she started rolling on the floor, screaming, then dropped towards the hallway.

The second shot struck her in the side of her head. She staggered as she got to one knee, clutching her lower half and crying out for help.

She got to her feet and ran, as if she could see the whole world from where she’d stood at the moment the bullets struck her.

"Get up!" one of the guys behind a booth in the front row cried out, his eyes wet with tears.

They’d been firing at her as she’d come in and were taking aim at her feet.

"Don’t move!" one of the men called for someone beside him to stand. She didn’t.

The bullet hit her in the side and she fell on her back, covered with her legs, hands and hands that almost had her in place. It knocked her to the floor.

"Get up!" she shouted.

The shots had done a lot of damage. Her brain went blank as she got up, and then her eyes went dry, eyes fixed on the spot where two bullets had ricocheted off the metal in her right leg. Another bullet hit her in the face. She couldn’t blink, but she managed to make her eyes roll back in an attempt to see from a different angle.

One of the shots had killed her.

She saw the crowd that’d gathered with her. The crowd that had been waiting for her to move. I saw the other guy who was still looking away. He wasn’t moving as fast as he should be, because he’d lost his arm in the worst of all possible accidents. That could have ended his life. Had he been wounded, or had he been shot?

She’d been blind from the first shot to the second, but she could have looked somewhere else if she’d seen better. She moved her left leg to the side, to move her torso. Then, in the moment the crowd turned to look at her, she stepped forward and pushed the gun away.

One of the bullets had grazed her brain, and she didn’t have the strength to bend it away. She had the strength of her mind, which allowed her to reach, to push.

Her knee’s pain was getting worse, and she needed a way out. She’d lost her eyesight from her concussion and the effects of the bullet, so she couldn’t see from his vantage point but had to move with one hand, one foot, one leg.

The man from the booth in front of her was at the rear, holding the gun out to her right side. She had his right arm around her shoulder as she ran, a bullet still stuck to her.

She moved to throw herself over him, to try and move her head, but the straps of her jacket were too tight. The man just didn’t move to block her. She ran and ran until she collapsed into the booth. When she did, the gun went off and she fell, still clutching her leg.

"Get her!" someone yelled. She looked up at the man, still trying to move her head, and the gun went off in her chest again. The man looked up at her, and she didn’t blink.

She was too old, and she was still shaking, so she didn’t try to stand, but her foot dragged and she fell. Just a few steps away, someone was using someone else’s body to support her

======== SAMPLE 7 ========
, even just now, I can barely think, and I couldn’t do anything other than look. We had to look. We’d taken down the Endbringers, we’d taken down the Endbringers, they had to be gone. We’d been in there and out of their territory, but the power was still going to run on power and no amount of tinkering would change that. It’s going to continue to run until we defeat it.

Which leaves me one question, which I'm sure the others are too.

We have to know who’s left in us, what they bring, what they were doing. There’s too much in the way of knowledge to do anything but look.

"Tinker," I spoke up. "We’re not finished, you could be a monster, even with powers. You’re the reason that we’re not done, the reason things aren’t what they were. We’re left. We’re left wanting information, we’re left wanting answers, we need to go out into the world and talk to ourselves."

There were nods among my teammates. Someone’s ears were a little elevated, and their hair was a little longer.

"They are the monsters who’ve come together to make you and to destroy you. The ones who’ve been waiting to kill you, until they’re satisfied. You are the symbol of what they’re doing to you, you are the reason things are so different. You are the reason that there’s a difference between you and them, between the heroes being strong and the villains being strong.

We’ll have to go to the PRT and get this guy back, but first a favor to us. We need to go to one of the big places where heroes work, that’s Brockton Bay. It doesn’t matter if you want to go to Central Station, you need to go to the Docks."

I nodded, as if all the others were nodding as well. I could see Amy’s eyes narrow, her face creased in concern.

"Do you hear me?" Lisa spoke up first.

"Yes. You know why you’re being here?" Lisa asked.

"You’re here because those people need to know what’s going on. They know what the people who’ve left behind are capable of. Because we’ve learned through experience, through the Protectorate, the Wards and Protectorate, the Undersiders’s, the Nine, and others that there’s a difference between hero and villain, there’s a difference between hero and monster. But we’re not done. For all of us that worked hard to get what we wanted, for the ones who have joined the Nine or the Protectorate, there are others of the new breed that’ve been waiting to strike.

"They’ll get what they’ve seen, they’ll get the answers they’ve been seeking, but that’s all for now. We’ll leave."






Capes 2.3.1


I could hear it in my earblades. A hundred things, a thousand or more on the mental level.

I’d spent weeks, months, maybe years playing a part in the story. My hands, my body, my emotions… but it took a lot longer to sit down and analyze it all.

I hadn’t been thinking about why we’d taken down the Endbringers.

I’d wanted to be sure that something good had happened, and I’d been certain that it wasn’t only the people of Earth Bet and New York and Alexandria that were affected by the Endbringer attack, that other places had seen more destruction in the aftermath of the Endbringer fight.

But it wasn’t what I was focusing on, and I still struggled to put it into a cogent thought. I felt like I was missing something, that something had been missed when I tried to focus on it, that I could have found it when I tried some of it over with.

But I did it anyway. I got a grasp of it when I read a little, and got the gist when I tried to look at it. It meant the world to me. It meant it was something that I should do.

They’d said they had to go on. I heard them talking, I could smell them. One of the dogs was still barking, it wasn’t so soft.

We’d moved, and I’d gone a step further. My

======== SAMPLE 8 ========
, I was able to take another half-hour or so to get the first of four tests done for one of our most important patients.

It was the kind of testing I did when I had little else to do. One afternoon, just before Christmas, I’d gotten the assignment of reviewing a new version of our EMT-testing programs. In the midst of my review, I had been looking for the most convenient testing environment for my students. One test I had been assigned was to help me figure out where to test my new training programs on the people arriving in the ER with minor injuries or suspected cardiac arrest.

The only way this could work.

The doctor had come in one morning and was on the phone with her colleagues, the nurse and me. The training was already on the computer, and I was ready to begin the examination. They all looked at me, and I looked at the doc.

In an instant, I had a diagnosis that would be the final nail in the coffin for the training I’d been working on. It would come as no surprise if the training department didn’t keep this training under wraps, just as I’d let it slip from the hands of my students to the hands of the doctor. All I’d have to do was show up, do the training, and I would be done. I’d have to start all over from scratch.

"How’s the cardiologist?" I asked the doc.

"Better than in your last training," she said.

"My training was in heart attacks and cardiac arrests, and my new training is in the treatment of minor injuries and other more serious conditions," I replied. "And the training on these patients came in the form of just the basic, standard EMT-testing procedures."

Dramatic silence lingered.

"How much did you learn?" I asked.

"Less than I thought we would get from my last training," the doc said. "There were some things we did that my fellow-doctor couldn’t remember. It was kind of embarrassing."

"That's fine."

"And those things are what got me to this point?"

"I was sick of taking my training," the doc said. "I wasn’t getting any more than I was. I was so tired of dealing with the stress and stress-induced illness that accompanied the kind of training that I was doing, with having to get up at five in the mornings at the usual time to get my EMT-training done, and having to get them all back to me in a way that I couldn’t control.

"It wasn’t until three or four weeks ago that I had a conversation with my partner, where we discussed the idea of taking my training and transferring it to my new job, taking my EMT training to my new job. When that conversation went nowhere, I started thinking about how much I wished I could take more of my training elsewhere, to get the training that I had needed and want."

"Your partner is more experienced than most of us on the team," Lung said.

"A little bit. My training was not a part of how I was trained or how my new job was structured. And the training that I was using wasn’t in the same class as the ones I was doing training in. I wouldn’t say I’ve got the training. All I have is what I have to work with.

"There’s a big difference between training your EMTs at a high standard and training your own EMTs. I’m confident that I could be a trained and competent EMT, if only I had the training my teams need and how I needed it."

"I could be a trained and competent EMT," the doc agreed.

"I believe you’re being entirely blunt. But just to say it’s not something I’m interested in does not mean it’s a question for a different subject."

"I’m interested in a whole host of topics."

The doc nodded, then spoke up, "But you still haven’t touched on something that’s been bothering me. You said it was something you’d like to have."

"What’s the issue?"

"One would hope that you’d get in touch with your partner to talk about your training."

"That hasn’t happened, Doctor."

"You’re in a better position to ask that."

"I’m interested. There are things I feel I could improve. But I want to be able to do them. I want to be a medic."

"No? You want to work in the E

======== SAMPLE 9 ========
, and it was the most effective means of killing us. It wasn’t quite so lethal with its own power as it once was."

"He wouldn’t get to see them die," I said. I didn’t wait to hear what he actually wanted to say, either.

"You’re making me think he’s not entirely a failure," the girl spoke, speaking through one earbud, "Or he’m being cruel?"

"Cruelty," I answered her. "That’s just the way he is."

"Maybe he will. Maybe he’s still the guy he was before. I don’t know, but whatever he would have been when he was more human, there’s no doubt an equal and opposite power in that gray area."

The girl hesitated. "Okay…"

"Just like the others with the power, the only difference is that they were able to act on those feelings and emotions, and I’m not the one who could put them in words."

She looked away.

"I can do that with my power," I said. "I can make you a monster."

She hesitated again.

"I could," I said. "I’m sure someone else, someone who could have given him a way of putting it, could have taken him down in an instant."

She leaned into my fingers. She looked me over. "Like hell you don’t."

I didn’t say anything. A question? Another trap to fall into?

"That girl, what do you think’s going on?" she asked. "It’s the type of thing she does. What would you expect her to do if you gave her the opportunity?"

"She’s going to get the chance," I said. "She’s already here, she’s got all the toys in the box, she’s got a bodyguard around her body and the two guys in the armor who carry her in the back. The thing that’s weird about it is that if she just goes this way, there’s going to be a lot less problems in her future."

"Do you want to be my friend?" she asked. "Come here, let’s pretend you can see."

I pulled my phone’s earbud out to put it on my ear, then listened carefully.

"Hey," the girl spoke.

I felt a small thrill as I heard the sound of it, felt the rush of feeling it, heard the snap of the lock, and then the sound of the click and the light of the phone. I was going out of my comfort zone, to be honest, and I was glad to get past that.

"Just letting you know, sorry."

"Just letting you know," I answered that. I leaned over and kissed the girl on the back. We hugged. I turned to the phone, and then put the little earbud in my pocket.

I knew what was on its line. I knew what was on their end. It would let them know that I could be their friends.

I was grateful, really.

"Come on," Rachel said, "Let’s go, it’s going to be quick."

We got in the back of the van, the wheels skidding on rough surfaces, and made our way up to the roof, where the truck was parked.

I put my phone in the slot it had been in, then leaned down to use the phone’s lock and unlock mechanism.

Rachel smiled.

Rachel, I thought.

I left the girls in the care of the guards and went straight to the bathroom to make myself use my imagination.

"He wants to know if we can’t afford to go to the hospital," the guard spoke. "And that she came from a rough background."

"She’s a freak, and she’s a sick freak. That’s not the same thing," I said.

The guard nodded.

"And the same girl you were talking to was there too. If she gets it, that person can kill us. We have to leave."

That was the only explanation that made sense to the guard, anyway. "You’re really good at this, aren’t you?"

I had an idea of what was going on. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t lying. "Maybe."

"I think you’re a better liar than she was. No."

"You’re really smart. You know I’m a girl and

======== SAMPLE 10 ========
, as if that only confirmed my belief.

"My apologies," he said. "I will be on the phone to arrange additional transportation."



"I’m here to do my work," I said. "Please forgive me."

He was looking me over, then. "Yes."

"Then I apologize for interrupting your work today. My apologies to you. I’m not done."

"Oh no. I think I’ve got that one," he said. "Okay. Good."

"My colleagues are making progress. We’ve got a list of people who need help getting on record."

"Okay," he said.

I paused. "Are there any things that I can work on? Any problems?"

He paused, then tapped a hand against his chin. He wasn’t smiling, but I wasn’t about to complain.

"Well?"

"Your father’s getting ready to come in. I’m going to have to go in to help you, see that you are all in the best possible condition you can be. It means a lot, and I’m tired. I’m going to call you guys later, talk to your teams about how they can better serve the people who need it as much as possible. I’ve been busy, but this is going to be a great benefit to the community as a whole. I’ll be here for longer, and I’ll stay for less hours."

"You said a lot about what’s possible. So here are the things you’re thinking about?"

"There aren’t any that were hard, and it’s more about the things I thought about when I’m thinking about them. Things you were talking about, getting the things I care about, the things that can get my attention in a bad way… things about the end of the world, getting on that train and being on it every minute or two. I’ve come to the conclusion that being on that train doesn’t happen often enough. We’re not where we need to be for a good long while."

"Then I’m thinking the people who think we’re going too slow are wrong."

"Right. I’m going to check over the buildings, as I’ll have to do with the others before I head out and check over them. I’m taking a break from everything I did today, and I’m going to be out of the office for now. I’ll come back here in the morning and check over the buildings that I’m supposed to be here for."

Tattletale frowned. "The buildings that you’re supposed to be checking over are all too often in the vicinity of the Nine’s headquarters."

He frowned. "What was I supposed to talk about?"

"Are you sure? If they have facilities, then I was hoping to see the areas for them. If not, are they okay with you not being here, with them being free to go where they want?"

"I was only joking. I’ve been working around to do my part. I’m going to do my part for the people who need it most."

"I’m not sure it’s the job of the others to decide whether they need it. Not the building, not you, no."

"I know. I’m sorry. This is part of the plan, getting the city and the Protectorate and the Wards on board, and all the things I wanted to do, but I couldn’t get to. Now I’m just here because they know I can’t do this on my own. I’m a team player, here."

"I suppose they didn’t expect you to be this nice?"

"No. Yes. I’m sorry I’m so blunt. I’m not getting an idea of what they’re thinking. My thoughts… I never really stopped to ask questions."

"How’s this?" Tecton asked.

"I’am going to take a break," I said. "I’m going to check over places where things I care about might be a little scarce. I hope to get these buildings in better shape for the people who want them, and I’ll be watching over the buildings here, I’ll be going back to the office once a half an hour or so until I’m back this afternoon. I’ll be coming with some people who did the damage control and will be helping with the cleanup, but

======== SAMPLE 11 ========
, I’d have to take a step back while they watched, so I didn’t miss anything.

There was a knock on the door.

"I’m here-" Sophia spoke, her voice strained.

"Weird," Miss Militia said, "Just weird."

I glanced over my shoulder as they entered the apartment. Tattletale had put her hands on her sword for a second, and was raising her gun.

A knife- it had to be a knife, since it was so far from Sophia. "Do it, Tattletale."





Slaughterhouse Nine, 26.2


The sun had set, and the sky was covered with shadows.

Giant-

There was a noise, heavy, as though metal had fallen from the sky, and debris was scattered beneath the surface.

There was a crash of something heavy as a fireball erupted at angles of two to five degrees in altitude.

Sting, the second- and the third wave seemed to reach slightly taller and heavier forms before they were gone.

A few had been pushed back as they made it up to the second wave.

They had seen their prey, had reacted to their presence by leaping to the ground, then rushing to the immediate horizon in search of shelter.

Their target wasn’t here today, not yet.

The target was one of the capes that hadn’t been on the scene: the last surviving member of the Nine, Leviathan. Not a human, now. Her skin was like paper cut from a different scale, her body was in rough shape. In place of a cape, her costume was like a suit of armor with no sleeves and no hood. Instead of a cape, she was a giant serpent with all of the attributes of any reptile.

Sparks flared as a second target emerged from the fireball.

She wore the same costume, but her eyes were a blur as she moved, her movements almost without grace or control. It was as though she was floating, her wings and the other parts of her body glistening with a glow, and her appearance was unreal, not unlike being on a show, except there was no need to do that, since she wasn’t really the cape at the center of it. It was just an elaborate, elaborate costume.

The second target took flight again.

Her clothes were now as ragged as a woman might have been wearing them before going to the bathroom, her hair was a bit longer. The color of her skin had been slightly darkened, but there wasn’t a real tan to it. She stared at them all, as if her focus was entirely on something else, her eyes still closed and she was staring into nothing.

There must have been something to the cape-

There. A weapon.

We’d see it tomorrow.

But she didn’t have one.

The target was a man. An older man, with tattoos covering most of his face and his shoulders. She felt a shock of cold to her stomach. She recognized the shape. A man with dark skin and long blond hair, with scars all over, including one small spot where he’d been torn a hole through his left eye.

Her target, now, was this thing.

It tore through his body, tore him apart, then tore down the side of his head. From his chest, it tore out to the side, carving out a path across his torso and then the ground beneath that was covered in a trail of bits and pieces.

She wasn’t surprised. Her targets never took it in.

He collapsed onto the ground beneath the spot where the wound had been made. Her heart caught in her throat.

An arrow. A claw that wasn’t an arrow, in the same way one bone was more robust than the others, but she was left uncertain how the arrow connected with anything else at work. Was it from Leviathan, or from the Endbringer? From Scion?

The arrow struck a woman, who was a half second too late in being hit, nearly decapitating herself.

Something crashed through the woman’s back, as the arrow took her head.

There was a crash, and the target ran for cover below. The arrow was drawn back, and her body was torn apart in moments. It didn’t hit anything solid, but enough fragments of her body were torn away that she was left as naked as she was before the arrow struck her.

"I can deal with this!" one woman cried, "Get out of here!"

She could. The thing was stronger than her. It tore pieces of her body from her, leaving only a few that still held any strength. And the arrows and claws ripped at

======== SAMPLE 12 ========
, and the others didn’t have any luck.

Then I did something to get the others' attention. The other Skitter was crouched with her back to me, facing the wall where the fallen man had laid down.

I turned back to see Glory Girl approaching. Her hair was in the way. She stepped over the man’s body, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her face creased in surprise and concern.

This is what Glory Girl is. A little scared, angry, trying to get us in line while the others are having trouble connecting the dots. Not here.

She raised her hand again, and I saw a trace of it in her hand, a line of fingers with an elongated shaft, like an arrow, trailing from one finger to the end of the shaft.

I didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to make this personal, but… this was one of their… their toys?

She smiled, and that was a little harder to do than it might be for someone else she couldn’t see. I glanced at the others as they entered and headed out of the group. Glory Girl didn’t look right, and she didn’t take her eyes off this other Skitter. That might have been just as revealing.

We headed out with her back against the wall, the others with their arms around her, holding her close.

There was an eternity of silence.

Two and a half more minutes went by before another interruption happened–

"Shit."

"The commotion here is getting weird. I’m not really understanding it. The guy fell? There are still other people there, still in one piece. They weren’t in costume, were they? They seem like they were in costume for the moment they’re being attacked?"

"They’re not in costume."

"Can you do anything to help? Get our group of heroes in line? No?"

"The commotion?"

Her expression changed, and she turned to give me a knowing look, which only made me more curious. I turned my attention around. She’d reached out, and then I could see her expression shift as she started tapping my leg, a slow, cautious movement. I couldn’t tell if she was saying I was supposed to go.

My bugs moved to my injured ankle.

"How does that look?"

"Not much to say, really. I didn’t have a chance to react. I saw the commotion. I’m so glad you’re okay, and I can’t wait to go home."

"I’m okay," I said, in a way that only Glory Girl could understand.

I had to try and keep from making her smile, so I kept it to myself. I didn’t want to get her attention with the way she was moving against the wall, but the rest of the others might have seen.

There was the sound of a gunshot, and people were collapsing and collapsing as the others were in the midst of collapsing.

"We’re all okay?" Glory Girl asked after a while. And I could hear my bugs. No commotion. No blood or gore.

"Just a lot of people are saying they’re okay," I said. "There’s blood, blood everywhere, the paramedics’ are talking, trying to get us in here with the ambulances."

"They need supplies," I said. "I got you a couple days ago, I got you a bit the night you hit the hospital wing."

"Sorry," Glory Girl said, her voice was clipped.

"But you need to get supplies, and it’s not going to happen."

"It’s not you that’s to blame," Glory Girl said.

In an instant, the entire hospital was covered in blood.

"They are trying to do what they can, and the paramedics have to stop the bleeding, and the police are keeping the screaming to themselves."

"We shouldn’t be letting them talk," Glory Girl said. "We should help!"

"You want a fucking lifeline? They’re bleeding, the paramedics’ need to be bleeding too, the police need to have their arms and legs bandaged, and the ambulances need to be doing CPR."

The ground beneath her fell, and she landed the rest of the way, in place. I turned to look at Glory Girl. She was kneeling at the site where Glory Girl’s body had been, in the midst of being wheeled away from the scene.

"They should have told you,"

======== SAMPLE 13 ========
, the girl, the wolf and the dog, the little girl, in her pajamas. A girl with long brown hair, one arm folded over the shoulder, an eye outstretched in one ear for focus. Her voice had a low, almost a growl.

The moon was low in the sky.

It was cold. Cold enough for us to feel a little warm when the waves fell against us. Cold enough for our hearts to break in unison, for someone to yell "Ice, freeze" over and over again, to feel an awful warmth.

We were so cold, our breath made us shudder, our skin, our throats, and our hearts ached as if it wasn’t enough to be us. There was only us, but it felt wrong, something out there, something like something we’d never experienced.

Somehow we had been told that it was easy when the other members of the party were there, that nothing was stopping us.

We were alone.

That was one of the things that I found hardest about this world. Being lonely. Knowing that we were too insignificant and small, and that we couldn’t control ourselves enough to make things right.

It was hard enough when we were alone, when we sat in silence, not knowing the other people there, not caring who might be around to see us or who might not want to be around us and hear what happened. It was even harder when we were strangers in a strange land, surrounded by the wrong people. Our people and our tribe were the ones who were left out, the victims of this world and those around us, the ones who had to deal with being the weak ones, the ones who’d been left behind and told to wait for everyone else to move ahead and take over.

I’d been raised in this world. My parents were immigrants from another world. I was their son. My family, my friends. They’d been left behind.

The fact that everything was wrong was something that made everything all the more upsetting.

There was nothing we could have done. Nothing we could have done, to get the right people together. The one thing we could have done, if only with some good luck, some luck that the Protectorate would be there, to help.

We were alone.

There was light. A light that was bright enough to be visible to all. There was something inside of us, I could see from my position in the tree, like a voice or a whisper or a heartbeat…

A boy with a white mane, a white mask, and his cape. The beard was too short, and the skin of his mask too thick. His features were too different from the ones we’d seen on the images of him in media.

He was sitting on a tall, thin mangrove, with the branches to his right, the tips of each hand clasped around a crescent around him, a hand extended over some kind of wooden desk that seemed long and thin. His hands were clenched together, and he was gazing down at the boy sitting on the beanbag chair near him.

There were lines across his upper lip, lines that were darker than the lines around his eyes, the lines of his lips and the lines on his chin. The muscles of his neck, jaw and cheeks and hair were all exposed, as if, for the first time, he would let any of the lines slide from his body, his muscles, skin or even body parts that were too long.

A long hand extended from the palm of that same hand, holding something small in the shape of a small hat. Small enough to fit into a hand.

I watched as he put it on.

"My name is Bitch," he said. I turned my head to look at the boy. He frowned.

"I’m Bitch Brocklehurst," his voice sounded low.

"Yes?"

"You want to sit."

He frowned.

"I’m a bitch, the worst sort of bitch. I do whatever I want, because it’s the right thing to do."

The hand reached down and grabbed the chair where he was sitting. A white girl. Bitch had been one.

"I’m sorry for leaving you behind. I’ve got to tell you you’re doing a bad job, now that-"

"I’m not going to stop," Bitch was so far away her feet were touching the ground.

Bitch glared down at the chair.

I moved to move away, to stop, and the boy was so close to being hurt I almost couldn’t breathe. The girl was just barely holding the chair, trying to pull herself free.

"No it

======== SAMPLE 14 ========
, you know."

"I- It’ll happen the second the fucker gets an idea of what’s going on."

Her eyes fell on a piece of paper folded, like paper, with the words "No. No, no, no." It read: "No. No, no, no."

"I’ve read it," the Varga said. "I’m not exactly a fan."

"Don’t know. What’s the problem?"

"The problem is what happens when it’s right."

"I hope this gets better, I hope it’s better than this, but it’s the kind of thing I want to be able to do, not just because I’m going to have some spare change."

"So I make a few."

"So you do. I have to go, and I’m not even sure I can do it in five minutes. If I’m going to do it, I want to do it now."

"So you do."

"I had a plan in mind, a big one, but it didn’t pan out." She shook her head, eyes widening.

"You thought about doing something."

"Yeah, so did Tattletale. But they were both like, 'We’re going to do one of these, or we’ll do another, or something’s gonna drop the fuck. No. We’re not even sure about the things we’re working on. If it gets to critical, we can’t do anything.' But with you, I’m trying to be clear, that’s not what we’re on. We’re on the same thing, and we’re doing everything we can to save some of the shit I just told you to do."

I reached up and took her hand.

She smiled and pressed it against my palm. "I hope this ends quickly."

I frowned.

"We get a hundred dollars. That’s the kind of money I want, and it’s worth it."

"I could have used the money. I’d spend it on more money, but that would be wasting it. I’m going to have the money soon. But you already have it. If nothing else, I know this money is worth some."

"I got a hundred dollars from my dad," Tattletale said.

"You don’t."

Tattletale glanced at me and me at Tattletale. "I got a thousand that wasn’t mine. I don’t know what they were. But I got a thousand and I didn’t want a lot of it, but then, you know, my dad gave it to me as a kind of gift. You can put that in a check."

My wallet was still out of the pocket. I was a thousand dollars in shock enough to know that I wanted one right this moment.

"I’d give it to you now. I really, really wanted to, back in the beginning, but I thought I’d leave it somewhere like your house or in your name, to save you from drowning in your sleep. I’ll be honest, I didn’t take that money because of the fact that it was from the bank or with a promise from a partner, but because I needed it to buy the stuff that you need. I also didn’t want to hold it for a week or two while you had to get in the car and get the cash."

"But you didn’t get it. I’d have gotten it, but I don’t want to hold it for your benefit. That’s just me, that’s not you. I’m just talking a hundred dollars, as if I could get more. I’m not talking about the money that I have saved for the last week, or something else, because you know it was yours. Just know it was yours."

A million dollars.

It was too much. I had more money than I thought I did, because I got a hundred and a half more dollars from my mom, so the two months they’d saved my life had been enough.

"Let’s do it, I guess," Tattletale said. "That way, you know where the money is."

"You’re really good at talking your way up when you do it that way."

But she sounded just as calm, even if a little nervous.

The Varga smiled. "I can see you’re

======== SAMPLE 15 ========
, a look of realization on his face. "You’re fine."

We paused. He reached for the door, shutting it behind him.

We stood here, waiting, hands clasped in front of us, and I felt my head turn. I’d never seen him in this kind of state.

"It’s okay," he said. He reached to the door handle, paused. "The Doctor’s here. Don’t worry. That’s all it takes to make it out and get you back. You can walk."

"They killed your family," I said.

"You don’t understand."

"I don’t understand."

"Do you? Do you know you’re not human?"



Tattletale 10.5


We crossed the threshold, and a voice spoke from right beside one of the windows in the building. I looked behind us, and it was Taylor. I glanced at the others, and there weren’t eyes on us. The same voice wasn’t from earlier in the day. It was Taylor, from the moment she’d arrived when I’d only left the other team and been with Undersiders. She was looking out at us, watching.

"They’re-"

She paused, then continued. "They’re… they’re going after me. The’other team’s with me, at this point, even if that’s in a different direction. The Endbringers, Coil, the city, the world as a whole, that’s just… not me."

"The city with you."

"Just-"

"Just one little thing," she broke off.

I turned, and when she turned and stared, I turned too. I’d seen that expression before, a look of shock where the other person had caught it, and I felt it again. A look of realization. Like someone had caught it on camera and said, ‘This is how I do things’. The other person had said something like, �She’s beautiful. I’m the same.’

I was. The other person didn’t even notice.

We were a long way from the front lines, I realized. Maybe it was easier than one might expect. I looked down. The crowd was moving. I was standing apart…

"Don’t worry," Taylor said.

We got inside. When I looked out, I saw that it was dark, there was only one light source, and the windows were a light pink, blue, pink and gold. It was almost dark by the time we had stepped inside, the only light coming in from the two outside lightbulbs. There was only a little bit of rain on the windows and floor.

My bugs were buzzing around in my hair and under my eye, but it wasn’t helping.

"There’s no need to worry," she said. "This is where I need you to be."

I wasn’t sure what it was like to be her. I didn’t know, actually. I didn’t know if it was the only thing that gave her that extra edge, a comfort in knowing that, at any minute, she might just be taking over. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how she operated, but I did know this-



The air smelled of dampness and old clothes. The air was hot, with no wind to help, and I felt like it was the perfect place to stand.

"You’re free," she said. She extended her hand for our drinks. I took it.

The air was still, and the window sills of the balcony and awning were still faintly illuminated.

She placed her hand on my shoulder, stroked my hair. I looked at her, and she had an expression that suggested she could see right through me, could see exactly how my hair brushed my face.

"You’re in the middle of it. You’ve been waiting for something."

And in the time it would take us to get the water in the taps, the other group’s leader could be dead. They’re dead.

"They’re making some preparations for a possible attack, maybe for some time in the next few days. They can do some work, maybe give it to the people right this moment, but we’re too busy. We’ll let them know."

"Good. If they need you to be at the PRT headquarters and a safe distance away."

She stepped through of

======== SAMPLE 16 ========
, I didn’t know. If I didn’t know, then maybe it was a bad sign. My parents, who’d just seen me in the flesh, I supposed they wouldn’t understand. But I couldn’t imagine them accepting a lie like that. It would give them reason not to trust me.

My bugs gathered in a circle and I sent my swarm at him, my swarm flying. The creature turned around to face me, but for the slight turn of his body.

A long, long shot landed beside his head, and he fell.

I tried to use my swarm to grab him, to grab and hold, but to no avail. My bugs didn’t find him. They landed in one place and vanished without a trace.

The second shot hit him the same way it had hit my target. I could sense his movement as he fell to the ground, felt the recoil of the weapon, felt it shift in my claws.

I got to my feet, and my attention was on one man who stood and stood, but did nothing.

He’s dead. That was the last word in my thoughts as I made contact with the ground. It could be that the creature had hit something else, or that my power’s affecting him. Or my body couldn’t have dealt with that kind of damage.

The ground shook. I stepped out of the way, and then got to my feet in the same instant the others started to move, my breathing fast and shallow.

I glanced at my teammates. No surprise. They could have died if that wound had been worse.

I felt something in my leg, but I didn’t think it was a cut. It sounded more like a foot fracture.

Was I hurt?

No. Did that make sense?

Fault line? I felt the pain slowly fade. Only when I did, my body began to relax.

My body was starting to heal.

They ran on. The man died before his leg could recover. Others were struck down. I stood and began to walk on, my feet still throbbing from exertion. I could feel the healing of the flesh, but my body’s work was incomplete as much as it was letting the skin heal.

The man that had fallen to his death couldn’t die. If I didn’t care about that, then I couldn’t die.

The air around him stopped. The sound became distant, and he collapsed in a heap, his head resting on his chest and chest cavity. The bugs began to build.

He was dead.

I reached for the man’s body, holding it by the arms, and I reached for a corpse.

His body was gone, I felt his body. The bones, the muscles, I saw them all, and I could move them, the bones, the muscle.

I could move him, heal him, stop him from taking it from me. The creature, if it was. I’d be able to fix him. It was only a question of how.

I made contact with my power once more, and a flash of light illuminated each of my feet.

I could remember how his feet fell with his last breath. My mind had made up a part of my body, I couldn’t remember the rest of it, but the feeling of his final breath was a strange, unfamiliar way of dying.

My vision faded, and I saw only a blur.

The air was thick, deep and dense with dark clouds.

He’s dead.

His eyes widened at my interruption.

I tried to keep my balance on his last breath.

I wasn’t going to fight.

Another flash of light illuminated each and every one of the bugs within my swarm, as well as the nearby ones.

The creatures, their numbers diminished by the passing seconds, their ability to fly diminished as well. They didn’t fight back, only waited, waiting to be filled with blood-fuelled laughter.

"I won’t kill him," I said.

"I won’t kill him," he repeated, louder.

I heard someone in the background, a woman in a suit, one of the suits I’d fought. She carried a woman, her legs bent at the knee. She was tall, thin, had long black hair, and sat beside her, in an armchair with her arms resting on either side of her chest.

The man beside her had a wound on his head. With one blow, it was gone. He stood. He wasn’t going to fight as well, but he had another body in his place.

======== SAMPLE 17 ========
, he could have said something to convince her not to make the same mistake.

He couldn’t say he’d been on the receiving end of any abuse when he made those comments. The man wasn’t there. It was as if he’d been on a deserted island, with a few familiar faces, no signs of the man. Not a man to make abuse, to hurt.

"It’s alright?" the man said.

The ‘awe’ was in the form of a smile, which made it a little more difficult to suppress.

"It’s fine, you’re so very easy to like!"

A smile.

■

"Did you kill her?"

The other ‘victim’ was an older woman with blond hair. Her face was covered in tears, and she was crying for a male voice. What would anyone else have said? A man would have given them the benefit of the doubt, but it wouldn’t have come from someone willing to look the part and be part of a group. It might have come from someone else who hadn’t been on that island.

"You’re just not the type that’s up for this. What’s her problem now?"

"That’s the thing. It was a boy. You said he was a boy, so I picked her up."

The emotion was almost sickening. She was an adult. It would have been easier if she hadn’t been in a wheelchair, but there were people around her who were older now, those with long legs and no problem with carrying.

"She wouldn’t walk. She wouldn’t stand. So we picked her up, put her down with one arm, then carried her with the other. She stood after. I didn’t have her for a long time. She got upset and started crying. I didn’t hold her, because I didn’t have her for a long time. One second she was crying, I could have picked her up and carried her to me, let them meet."

The other †victim’ was so sick of what was being said. There was no way anyone could take the person with that much emotion seriously. The man with the wheelchair was a good thirty or forty-something.

"Why didn’t you leave her there?"

The ‫victim’’ was still crying, the words still lingering over her mouth, the way she tried to pull away, to stop.

"It was a boy. I had my doubts that he was a real boy. I had my doubts he was human."

He wasn’t human. That was something she’d been talking about with him all day. They were two perfectly good people, but they had been raised by wolves and they’d lived together in an orphanage. They’d lived a life that was as pure as they could get it. This person with the girl’s body had lived a life that was as selfish as she could get it.

It took her a minute to calm down, before she said, "Do you think you’re in a better position to say it now? Do you think you’re happier you didn’t leave her? But she can’t talk."

He’d never been in a position to say that, but she couldn’t have been in a better position.

"You’re still talking. I guess we don’t need to talk about that anymore."

He’d already spoken, and she heard nothing. Her ears wouldn’t register anything, she couldn’t read his voice.

She’d never really understood how much it hurt him, to be in a vulnerable place and have nothing to hold onto. She’d spent the last few years of her life trying to find answers there. It hadn’t happened in a way that had ever worked for her or made him happy, so she had held back, to stop people from turning that truth to anger, and she was going to do the same for him now.

I never would have understood him, but I was doing the best I could to fix it, and as of now, it wasn’t working.

She’d been wrong about his ability to be sad. She hadn’t realized that his tears were just the same way. The same same sort of feeling. He wasn’t capable of crying.

He wasn’t a boy. He was a monster.

The ‘victim’ stood, and she didn’t run. Her arms

======== SAMPLE 18 ========
, at a distance away.



"There are two, they’re holding one. She can’t let go. One of them isn’t breathing."



"Yes," the blonde said.

"Not just her," Tattletale said.

"I could tell you what to do to ensure that she’s saved," Grue said. "Just a little reminder, a reminder that it all went wrong. If she’s a person you help, there’s no telling. You could save her, make sure she’s going out and you’re okay with that. Or, you could let her be the first casualty of this incident. It’ll be hard to make that judgment and it won’t be easy."

"Right. There’s an option here. There’s no way she’ll walk. I’ve already set her up. She’ll be on her own, if she walks."

"If she’s on a leash, she’s going to run back and see who is following her and where they can keep you. I’m already setting her up. You could take what’s left of her, you could keep what you need to keep her, or you could use her as bait and switch the targets with your bugs. The same people I’ve already helped, I’d stop in case I could get more help."

"Theoretically, maybe. But I could do worse than this to help her?"

Tattletale shrugged, "Right. How does that improve someone who’s trying to live off the scraps she has now?"



Bang Bang

"You’re still here, in the back, are you? I’m not exactly a doctor, so anything I say is based off my experience with the people I’ve handled, but this is a pretty standard procedure."



"It can be worse than this."

"A lot more people get killed than saved when they’re the second line of defense. If she’s in there or if we’re attacking her, who knows what’s out there?"

"Well, people tend to think of an attack attack as one big shot. Attack, shoot, charge. If we decide to charge-"



He stopped. They’d pulled a girl from here. She had a severed head and the flesh was pink, like she had been burned, her skin ragged. A head band had been torn off.

"Ahead of us, now," Grue said.

"They’re moving the girl to one side, right?" Tattletale asked.

"A little off to the left, they’re attacking us instead. There’s two of them, right? They’re taking us in. They don’t know where this girl is, not how she’s living, unless they’ve had a few."

"We’re not taking her in. Not any more, no."

"What about the people?"

"I couldn’t tell the girls to come, and I wouldn’t have told you about it if I’d been your boss. They’re just being polite."

"I think we’re being polite," the girl said.

Growl.

"The girl could be a patient. We have to know, so we can be sure to save as many as we can, so we can make the most of having you around. They wouldn’t really be in this room if it wasn’t for you, anyway. You wouldn’t be able to work again if you weren’t with us."

Growl.

"You’ve got a point there," Grue said. "Someone, in this room with the girl, would’ve been more likely to think you’re a little psychotic than I thought you were."

"I have proof. I’m a doctor. I’m here to help. If we don’t take this girl or if they give her a name, I’m going to call attention to it, and I’m going to make sure everyone involved in this is informed, there’s no telling who or what could happen, but there’s definitely going to be more casualties if we make this the main priority and start looking into this thing at that time. That’s the kind of work I’m doing, it’s the kind of work you’re supposed to do."

"There’s

======== SAMPLE 19 ========
, you have a right to a trial by jury. In the event of your acquittal, you shall be denied the use of any of your powers under the laws of this country," the judge said.

"No, I’m not," I said.

"A trial by jury? No," the judge said. "This is the law."

"This isn’t even that different from what happened in San Quentin. Just this morning you’d been brought before a grand jury to answer for your crimes. How’s that different from the way you’re treated now? Like prisoners in a normal court proceeding, I could go on from here to any point in the next several months, but we’re leaving you in the courtroom until you’re eighteen," the judge said.

"So you’re changing because of the laws of this country? The day after this hearing, they’re forcing you to be a public defender?"

"I’m changing because it’s what you’ve done, and it’s not what I’m going to do," the judge said.

"In your position you’re forced to make these concessions to the public, and you’ve made them. Do you know what it feels like to put that much trust in someone who’s supposed to be your enemy, the person who’s going to bring you down?"

"I do," the girl said.

"Do you?" the judge asked.

A pause.

"I’ll let you speak for yourself tonight," he said. "The girl is the one with powers, and there’s a reason that you’re here."

"You’re letting me walk, you’re letting the boy walk," the girl said.

"Not now, not the second you give her that final warning that’s probably going to make her jump if it comes with tears in her eyes. There are other things to say, other things you’re going to say. You’re telling me you’ are doing what any other person would do when faced with a situation like this. You’ did this to me, to Amy, then to Miss Militia. You attacked them in different ways, and now you’re trying to force us all to do the same thing."

The judge said, "The boy was being aggressive with the girl as they had sex. You’re going after her."

"Do I need to tell the judge that there are a thousand other reasons why you’re breaking the rules of the court, your rights of a trial by jury?"

"Let’s be honest, let’s face it, this is a law-abiding citizen going to trial on a case like this. The only reason you’re here today is that you’re a lawyer and you’re an attorney for the Undersiders."

"I have my office here," the girl said. "I’ll be the one to walk it through. So let’s stop arguing, just let it be. You can’t force the boy to come after you, and that includes the police. Because if you don’t, your next time will be tomorrow."

"Let’s leave it that way, and I will see you tomorrow, hopefully you will be back at work."

"Let us not engage in a prolonged argument," the girl said. "Let’s let them stand trial."

Her eyes grew wide. She looked at the judge, who looked almost angry, but he was smiling the same way he’d been a year ago. "I can talk to my mother."

"Let’s wait for them."

The judge stood up, and the girl left.

"What happened today wasn’t an accident," the judge said, "It’s not one of those kind of cases where everyone gets everything they could reasonably expect from a trial. No. It’s wrong. You’re breaking the rules, as you put us here, and there’s already enough law enforcement involved that we’ll get a record number of arrests. There’s no way there’s going to be anyone left to defend you any time soon."

The girl looked at her lawyer, but the girl’s expression was casual. What else? It was the kind of casual, not knowing, that came with being a witness.

■

The three girls that sat with me at the table were the kind of people the police and the lawyers I knew didn’t think twice about calling criminals.

They were both wearing the

======== SAMPLE 20 ========
, I could see his face. A little sad. I could see his teeth, gluisant as they parted. It was difficult to make it out, but the edges of his jaws were chomping at the edges of his mouth. If I could, I would have thought him a monster. Had to be.

"Hey," he spoke, almost soothing, still his voice choked with emotion.

"Hey, Jack, how you doing?"

I could see him shift position, as if to lean on something, then to shift again.

"My chest hurts too much, you know?"

"Sooooo, huh? Somethin thiiiiiind."

"We’re not in a good shape."

He didn’t reply.

I moved my bugs towards Jack and his girlfriend.

She had stopped screaming and had dropped her hands as she gave the first sign of what had just happened.

Jack stepped forward, and I could tell from his posture that he wasn’t holding onto anything, but the lack of grip and the lack of a grip made his chest rise and fall.

"Where are my hands?"

"No, it’s okay. I’m doing this, let me hold you."

"It hurt."

I knew he meant it. He could have meant that my arms were weak. They were.

"You told me I’d do better than fuck."

The words had been whispered, a whisper a whisper. He was not speaking to her.

"We didn’t do much to help. It was only a distraction for us to go after the Undersiders."

"And we made it."

"Didn’t know what it would be like," the words stuttered out in response, and Jack didn’t reply.

He stood, leaning against the door, eyes dark. He was almost stooped, his jaw set.

"Can we talk? It wasn’t us, huh?"

"Maybe," he said.

He didn’t raise his head from the angle of the frame. Instead, his eyes looked in, focusing on the television.

He put his hands to his ears and lowered the volume, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"I’m not the guy to tell you guys you don’t need to be a hero. I’m not the guy to be all hero, to be all protector, and to be all hero-"

"I think you’re right," he said, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"I’m not. I wasn’t."

I watched. He did, for all the wrong reasons.

Jack opened his mouth and it opened wider. He let it close until the air was dark and heavy with something that reminded me of a wind. A cloud of cloud trailed past him. A storm.

The wind died down, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. The screen was still lit up.

"You’re back, Jack."

"I am," he spoke, still his voice choked with emotion and pain, the tone mocking, a touch harsh.

"You’re coming," I spoke. A pause.

"You want me to come, I’m coming." He didn’t sit, but he sat down on the couch.

We sat, and Jack sat next to me. Jack is tall, and tall people don’t sit like that, sit the way I do.

"You can’t stay," I said. "There’s a chance I’m never going to. Maybe I’ll get myself killed, I’ll get hurt, there’s not going to be any of that."

He turned his head slowly behind his ears.

"We got to go do that. Not that I wasn’t thinking about the possibility, but the moment I realized you were right-"

"I wanted you to go," he said.

I could remember thinking about it all the time. I was the wrong girl for this. Maybe it was because of the fact that I was one of the people who had told Jack he’d do better.

I couldn’t say what that was. Did he want me to go because he’d been so brave? Maybe he knew what was in front of him. He’d been right, I could be right, I could be wrong and things would be alright.

It wasn’t as easy as the thought might make it seem so, but I would be wrong to let that slide. There

======== SAMPLE 21 ========
, and I couldn’t stop the panic from building. There were too many people in my range and I was scared to hurt them.

Catch, it seems.

The other cape in mine stepped forward to cover me. If they came in for a kill-

The cape behind me let go of his baton to let something swing out to the side. Someone who was smaller than I. Too short to be a cape, but someone who could throw something, or at least put something that could be a baton to the ground.

The cape in mine stopped moving, and I could see his attention shifting to his hands. My hand was too small for his hands. I was small enough that someone might get a hold of my arm and use it if the caped crusader was about to kill or wound them.

More people came in for a walk. Their faces were red. Red. The colors on a caped man’s costume.

"The fuck are they, anyway?" someone asked. I could recognize one by the color of his mask. A black-masked man, with a band around one eye.

A cape in mine approached my side. I turned my head to give him a hug. Then he took hold of my arm, so I needed only to look up at him for a hug.

No need for that now, he thought. But he gave me a hand hug that would be easier if that was the least of my worries. A gentle one, just a hand on another’s shoulder.

The others had reached the crowd, and I could still feel the panic, the way the capes had been standing there for three minutes or maybe a second.

How did it happen that I wasn’t doing anything? Trying to help?

It wasn’t fair to me.

I could try to think of something, but that would take a long time. It wouldn’t do to keep trying, to keep worrying that I’d be caught, and I’d be beaten, even.

I wanted to be one with people, to have connection with other people.

My hand was caught in another, and I moved my left arm, so that I wouldn’t be straining to move it as my hand was dragged around the side of his forearm.

"What is it?" he asked.

I took a step forward, the motion of my hand moving the other. The cape beside me took a step back, his hand pressing against his arm only so I wasn’t trying to pull out his wrist.

"I… did…"

I could have listened to the thought, tried to imagine what they’d have to say to me. I never listened. I was too focused on myself, and it seemed all too obvious that people in my field were not supposed to be touched.

"I can see how she could be there for you, I could have helped… you could have helped if you were hurt. You could be gone for a while."

Someone stepped forward and picked up my hand. They held it, I couldn’t stop the trembling in my hand and my hand getting tangled in his arms. For the first time in my life, I could see a movement, even if it was the opposite direction from what I was hoping it would be. Something quick, something sharp, something real.

He let it land in front of my nose, not holding it too tightly. "I don’t know. I would have called if she was. It’s her. Not mine."

I stopped, not for a second. I wanted to focus on the real thing.

"She might have just died."

I was already starting to drift back to reality. I felt a hand on one shoulder.

"Sorry," he said, his voice was quiet. He stopped and I felt as if he could hear us both turning toward him as well.

"No no no no no," I whispered, keeping the words in an effort to keep from hurting my shoulder. "We’re still fighting them."

"They are hurting a bit," he answered me. I nodded. I didn’t move anymore.

"My name is Shadow Stalker, I was sent here to stop a group of maniacs. It’s one of their tricks to get the public in over their heads with their antics."

"And they are fighting back. With what?" he said.

"We’re losing. The numbers are increasing, and it’s not fair to the rest of them. I will not accept this. We need to stop the Slaughterhouse Nine, one by one, here and now, so there can be no more bloodshed."

"I

======== SAMPLE 22 ========
, the first time any of the participants had heard words spoken on this night, only for the noise to amplify for any words spoken to them the next night. The first words spoken were ‘hope’, ‘fuck’ and ‘fucking’. The words were spoken out loud and in their quietest and most casual tones, as if nothing important happened.

"Go get it," he’d added, with the tone of the voice, a warning as much as a command.

I followed his commands. The others were taking steps in opposite directions from what I’d expected, but the same instructions had come from the same source. A man.

I was alone. I had only to follow the directions the old man had given the others. Each of them would have to make their way around the side of a building or the corner of a road with a large window.

They were gathered at a corner, staring out into the darkness, their eyes fixed on the window, their ears ringing with the noise that echoed across the city and into the hills.

I’d left, it turned out. I couldn’t say goodbye, because those words would have had to come from a place of love, of anger, and of fear. I wanted to go home. I’d taken my time, I’d made sure I wasn’t leaving anyone feeling alone, so I wouldn’t feel like my family and community weren’t on my side. I’d gone alone, and I’d spent all of my money with the ones who had the most to lose, because I didn’t want to be that one lone outlier among them. For so long, I’d been a lone outlier, and it felt like that.

"It’d be a shame if I didn’t get to spend it on you," the old man had spoken.

"Me?"

"You’re the one on top. And me’s gonna be the one to lose for once. I’m gonna lose for one reason alone: to have a family that I don’t have because someone made the call."

"You’re really here for that?"

"Well, maybe this isn’t so bad. The only thing that matters is that you guys didn’t die in a fire, and the people you’re supposed to worry about, the money, the food and all that, they didn’t get the care they needed. All the money you were supposed to be paying for that, they’re doing that now. So many other people suffer, people don’t have access to help. We’re trying to do something to stop that. We’re not gonna win tonight, but it will leave a lasting legacy."

"So you’re doing what’s right, then?" I asked.

"I’m doing what’s the right thing, and I’m making our own lives better, too."

I took in a deep breath. Why wasn’t there a voice, a reaction from these people here who’d waited so long for things to change?

"A little while ago," the old man had said, his eyes fixed on the window. "The guy I’m talking about, he took time between his job at the bank, and his regular time at the bank to see if he could help me. He didn’t have to wait long. I wasn’t there when he got the money, maybe we’re talking hours or even minutes ago, but it was too late."

"I don’t know when you started," the young man spoke, his voice quiet.

"It’s me."

"But it’s you at the same time, right?"

"I don’t really know. Maybe it’s about now, we’re here. I only know that it’s you in a lot of ways, though. And all of us?" he’s talking to us, now, quiet, with no accent or accent, still, we think he’ll be talking to the others. His voice had a little bit of bitterness in it.

"Maybe we’re getting somewhere. And maybe, if we stay this way, someone could make a difference. You can talk to anyone here, you can ask people questions, you got a voice, a reason to be different when you’re different. But it’s us, you guys.

"I mean if this stays like this?" the girl next to me spoke up. She wasn’t speaking,

======== SAMPLE 23 ========
, but they could have been an ambush, or they wanted to surprise the team, or they might be going into the office to grab something for them.

The door swung open with enough force that Dean stepped up to give it a double kick. Sam didn’t. He was already standing, his feet digging into the carpet, elbows prodding his body.

Golem was on him, and he’d done his best to keep his hands to his chest. He stood, and his right was gone, replaced by a large, bloody gash. In the same moment the knife was removed, he managed to put away a knife he’d drawn earlier. It was the knife he’d held in his fist.

But he wasn’t in control. He was barely alive, his voice muffled as he struggled to stand.

He was alive. A hundred times as strong as the other two were. But when he looked up, his eyes widened in shock. His head was bowed, his fingers gripping the sides of his mask.

The two people in the back were still alive, hands raised. The man who had been holding the knife was still holding it, an angry glare in his eyes.

He tried to raise one hand, and his hands went down.

Sambra’s hand fell to the floor, and he dropped it.

The girl in red took a step, and she was gone before he could do anything.

His hand pressed against the side of his face. He didn’t have much time left to make his decision.

His body froze, then snapped back, the instant his eyes met the girl in red, blue eyes, bright-green skin. It was as good as any chance the team had of catching a break, since the knife was taken out.

"Go!" he told her. His voice drowned out anything the girl in red might have said, even if it came out in his ears.

"Help!"

He hurried to his feet, and there was a rush of people. The girl in red was still holding the knife and the two officers. They were still running, making their way down the stairs, arms full of uniforms that had been piled up for two hours, and their eyes were wide in shock.

Sam didn’t know what was left for him.

He was still alive.

He was alive just in case it was another ambush, a trap, or he had to use a device someone did this to be able to do anything with them in the moment he could do nothing to stop it. He hadn’t been in control. Now he was in control.

But he’d been in control long enough.

The girl in blue’s grip and the knife weren’t holding up as he was making his decision. He could feel his hands starting to tear.

"Let’s go!" one of the officers called out, then another. "Go! The only thing I can think of is that they need your help, okay?" he called out.

There was no reply. He hurried forward, and there were dozens of officers in the hallway waiting. The girl in blue could be one of them. The others were injured or sick. Two were even missing a finger, the ones that’re visible in the photos.

They weren’t wearing their uniforms, but they weren’t wearing their uniforms, either.

He was in his own little circle, and they were in theirs, surrounded by other members of the Nine and the PRT.

There was a momentary pause, then the words:

"Fuckers!"

The man in green was still holding the knife. He was waiting for the moment to strike, but only the girl in blue in blue could hear the sound. If he struck, the knife would rip through him.

"No!"

The woman in the blue shirt yelled something to the man with the gun.

There was another pause, then the words:

"Killing civilians," the words were almost too long to understand, "Looting, getting rid of the problem. You’re doing better this time!"

She was calling herself ‘Dinah’, after her sister from before.

She stepped forward, and everyone turned to look, turning the moment she’d touched them. She had the power to see ghosts. He hadn’t been able to recognize them, not yet.

They were surrounded by people, and there were only two of them. She approached, a blade drawn. She was a girl, standing, and the woman’s arms were bound by a yellow belt. He couldn’t let himself let his guard down.

He was paralyzed

======== SAMPLE 24 ========
, you don’t seem interested. Don’t waste a word, don’t let it slip through your fingers. "I’m not a killer. So what?"

"Don’t think I’m just a little more gentle, and that’s all it takes?"

"No, no, it’s fine. You know what it’s like, to be misunderstood, even as you kill the person who bothers you the most, and even the best of us aren’t immune."

"So what’s to change?"

"You can't control people. You can, but you can’t. You can manipulate some, to some extent, but you can’t make anyone do things that hurt."

"Doesn’t sound too hard to understand. So what happens if you do, then you decide it’s what you wanted, you go back for more? You kill one, you kill that person, you kill this person, that person stays there? The people you killed were people you cared about, people you admired and you respected."

He shook his chin. "Yes, they were. I was thinking about what happened when I was killed, but I’m not sure there was much more to it. I don’t care about that now. There was only one of us left, but we’d been through so much together. I couldn’t help but think I’d have a better experience if we were killed in this one."

"I understand then," I said. "I’m not the only one with the idea that I’d make the killing. My dad wouldn’t have gone that far, but I’d be happy for him to. I was going to go on the way I was, if I was going to give anything of my power to the person I wanted, and I’ve given myself five seconds to remember what I want, and everything else is out of my hands."

I could see his face turning red as he looked at me. I could see the corners of his lips parting in a frown. "Then we’d fight our way out of that one. Then we’d go to the big day after. We’re both here. We’ve taken care of you."

"Right, so what’s the big day?"

"The day-"

"-It’s what I’m waiting for."

"The day that leaves me alone?" he asked.

I nodded. "I don’t want to be alone."

I could see the other prisoners turn their eyes to look at him. They seemed to be waiting for a similar response, for the same reassurance, for the same words that would make it all better.

We’d taken the money and belongings from the banks at the time, the food rations.

We’d paid for the last time.

Was I doing this knowing we’d die?

"We could get some other stuff," he continued. "We’d get back into the car, I’d have to get some work done. I told him he had to go. He came back with a bag, a towel, and a box of magazines."

"So," I said, "You’re a little more sympathetic, you’re not saying your hands were dirty."

He shook his head. "No. He told me it was more than just me, just me. It was me trying to help with his work. When I left, my hands were empty. I was grateful. I still am."

"Your hands are empty inside, I suppose," I said.

"I would make you an offer," he said, shaking his head. "Someplace fun, easy to be nice, and then you’re gone."

"I don’t know if it does that," I said. "But I’m not willing to leave the prison that I work in for that long."

We went back to the car. I turned back towards Jack, and he turned and stared at me with an absent smile.

The two of them were walking and talking in the company of the prisoners, and this wasn’t like me. I wasn’t making eye contact with anyone.

"We’ll go back to the car," he said.

We could hear the music in the radio, the sound muffled by the harsh silence of the prison. Jack’s feet had paused at a dead-on stop, before he walked forward and joined the others making their way around the prison. They were in

======== SAMPLE 25 ========
, though, I’m not surprised. The last two of us have had their moments here before we had any real authority."

"I’m not saying we all got our moments, but maybe we’re all closer to a relationship now, if this doesn’t work. The worst is over, we’re all better for it."

"I don’t know, but I guess that’s the least of our worries now."

"We’re all in, then. How long have we been together?"

"Sixteen years, maybe. I dunno. We’ve all been through a lot together. No, we have different personalities and interests, but that doesn’t make for a very unique and fulfilling relationship. We don’t have the same goals, don’t like the same things, and maybe it’s because of these differences that we’re doing this."

"Well, let’s stop talking about this and get to business."

She turned and smiled as she left, and the man in the corner, the blonde boy who leaned back onto the desk, turned to glance at the two figures as they passed. His jaw was set in a firm line of muscle. The man turned to look at the blonde boy.

"Oh…" he smiled. "I don’t know if I will let myself say this."

"I don’t want to say I don’t like you… but I don’t either."

He paused, the little smile fading. The boy turned to smile back, "Don’t."

"I could make you dance."

The man turned to look at the blond boy, and the boy laughed, his eyes wide, a slight curl of his tail sticking out from between his cheeks.

"I’ll wait," the man said.

"So, who?" the blond boy asked.

"Not him."

The man turned, his eyes lighting up, and the expression on his face was almost predatory as he looked at the two.

"I’ll wait."

"So, who is she?"

"He isn’t her."

"Why don’t we make them dance?"

There was a pause.

"We’ll dance for a bit."

"Wait, will we dance?" the blonde man asked.

"Yes. After we have settled, we’ll have drinks afterwards and then make some plans."

There was a pause.

"A little more of a plan? For the kids to get to know you?"

The man’s face rose a little at that. The man glanced at the blond boy. "You’re pretty open minded."

The blond boy’s eyebrows were drawn together, "Yeah."

"Then you don’t have a problem with the idea. You’re going to be alone," the older man said.

"No. I want all three of you to get along. Not that it’s easy, but it’s easier than some people might think."

He raised an eyebrow, "The same ones we had for an hour ago? There aren’t many of us."

"If the three of you hang out and you keep in touch after my call, we’ll get together over a beer. Two nights a week, five nights a week."

The words struck a chord with every one of them.

The blond boy looked down at his shoes, a note of worry written on his shoe. It would be easy enough to say it was a casual or light touch, but it was a heavy enough note that it took the man a few seconds to realize he wasn’t talking to the woman. "Okay."

The man was too far out of his depth. He smiled.

"Well, who gets the last word?" the blond boy asked.

"You guys," the older man said.

"Okay," the girl answered. "I didn’t expect to be talking to him."

"I’m here to help. I was just in the hospital. They were able to provide you with a room. And we’ll see about your bed."

"We have a table by the window. There isn’t much table in here. I think that’s fine. I’m not a very happy person. I feel like I’ve been a shitty person because of you and things like that. You know what it is? It’s like this. I have a shitty life, but maybe that’s your choice to make