======== SAMPLE 1 ========
 as I looked at the wall.

It said, "Tension. Be it with your body or your mind. Understand, I’ve had plenty of time to observe you. To see you struggle. I’m curious. What keeps you awake at night, so to speak?"

And there she goes.

"I do. But more specifically, I’m thinking of…" she trailed off, "I see you."

I looked forward, almost afraid to look her directly in the eye.

And then, almost out of my breath, I spoke, "I’ll take another bottle of water."

She gave me a funny look. "You’ll take a bottle of water."

"I’m sorry. I’m thirsty," I mumbled. I could feel the dampness of her breath on my hair, "But you’ll get what you want."

She nodded.

I took that as a cue to go, and I stood there as she fished into a glass. When she looked down and saw my hands, she handed one of her to me, "The one from the fridge".

"You do know-"

"I do," she told me, "That when a bottle of water is placed beside you, you pay for it in full. So if you’re in a hurry, you pay for the water you’ll take instead, so as not to give anyone the wrong impression. Or you pay just enough that you’ll be left feeling a little under the weather."

I didn’t need to look any further to see her trying to bribe me. I just had to look up and I saw her trying to put her mask back on, to keep the drool out of her mouth.

"I think there’s a lot you can do, and it’s time for you to stop."

"Mm," she said, in that same faint, hushed voice.

The bottle was handed back to her, along with a half-filled carton of orange juice.

I felt so utterly humiliated. It wasn’t just that I’d been tricked like this. I’d had to watch a man have his dignity insulted for an unearned kick-off to our relationship. I’d done exactly what she wanted to and got shafted.

Fuck. Fuck me. I was so angry. I thought about going after her, but the tension and emotion that accompanied the emotion made that idea so repugnant that it felt far away. The feeling of being powerless to do anything, knowing that all I had to do was follow her instructions. I wanted to kick out, but even then, every interaction with her was disappointing. She could see that. I had to keep in mind that she was a woman, not a boy, so the only men I could count on were my dad’s male employees.

Which meant that for now, I was going to set my sights on the other women in Coil’s company. I set the alarm for ten AM, then put my laptop on to bed rest.

I had to take my eyes off me. It wasn’t enough to put on a facade, even a partial one. I needed to be more vulnerable.

I’d already lost my temper at various points. I’d been at odds with myself at one point. I needed to be in a state of constant fighting-with-others. What I was feeling now was the opposite of that. A creeping dread, like a chill that threatened to sweep over me, because it was simultaneously an exhilaration and a kind of loathing.

The female costume.

It had been the second costume I’d bought. It hadn’t been a surprise, but this one hadn’t sat well with me. I’d bought it because I wanted to be sure I had something that covered my basic, bare essentials. When I’d been confronted with the reality that they were taking my costume away, I’d accepted it without issue, and I’d bought it because I was curious. To this day, I’m not sure if it’s because I like my privacy or because I like to play things safe.

It wasn’t that I wanted to lose the anonymity that I experienced for the first time. I understood it would be detrimental if I became a target. That same anxiety that I’d felt in my earlier encounters with her was present here. Not so much to fear her in case she came after me, but just to be on guard.

I took another exclamation of pain, then managed a grunt in a low voice, "I understand. We’re

======== SAMPLE 2 ========
 as I did it when I was talking to my father, or if I’d just been holding it back for her to see. I’d feel like I’d just made myself a criminal, which felt especially horrible because it sucked. Especially for me.

But I felt better after she’d caught up, and the guilt and whatever else was gone. It was the way things usually were, after a while, and the lack of impulse control was gone. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so inebriated if she’d just been around.

Fuck me, it was so damn nice. That she was having fun as well. It was like a game of checkers without the balls. The thing about games as a whole, though, is that they always rewarded the bad.

I pulled off my gloves.

She looked at me, and I shrugged, walking away.

"Hey," she called out. "So. You wanna play checkers instead?"

"What? No. No. Checkers just doesn’t suit me. I’m good at cards."

"That’s fine. But I could play another hand. Is there anything I can throw at you?"

"No."

"Ah." She paused. "There. Is there anything?"

"I’m good at poker, too. I think you’d be surprised."

"Okay. Good. Then, um. One more trick, then?"

"Sure. Give me a second."

She smiled and reached between us, using the other side of her body, to slip one finger under my belt. She used her free hand to grab the same thing and slide it into my waistband.

I pulled the gun from where it sat on the corner of my belt. I pulled the clip from the end of the gun before she could pull it out and twist it so the handle pointed toward me. "Give it to me."

She giggled a little. "Why play checkers if you don’t want to?"

"Because it’s a good time to say what you want," I lied. As she put the gun away, I pulled the trigger without looking at her, "Shoot."

I didn’t wait long enough to see if she’d done anything wrong, but she couldn’t keep from looking in my direction. Her eyes narrowed.

"Shoot!" I called out. My breath caught as she shot the gun twice. The second shot missed the best part of his upper body, the part closest to her.

"Stop!" She screamed. "I’ll let you go if you shut up."

The second she got my upper body, the third shot missed. There was a pause as she looked at my hands. I felt myself drop to my knees a second after.

"How’s your leg?"

"It’s tough. My sister-"

"Oh, your sister?" The words hung in the air as he let the bullet fly.

There was a pause. When I turned to face him, there was no smile on his face.

"Shall we walk?" I asked. "We could go shopping, see a movie."

"That’s great," I said, "But we have things to do."

A silence hung in the air. I felt my heart drop.

He went quiet as he folded his arms across his chest. When he spoke, it was a plea. "Don’t look at me like-"

"Okay."

He let the words hang as he asked, "Don’t look at me like I’m going crazy. I’m not."

"Okay. And don’t say anything that would make me angry at you."

"Okay." He hung his head. If I get this far, it wasn’t because I wanted to see the end of the world or anything, but because it’s the best answer in a situation like this. He said it so calmly, it was like he was being perfectly rational, and I could only hope it was what the others were going through.

When my cell phone rings, I put it down so I wouldn’t make a sound while talking on it. "Yeah, it’s me," I said. "Need a moment. It’s fine. But the movie-"

I waited until he hung his head, then reached into my pocket to get my cell phone.

"Hey Taylor! I couldn’t believe you hung up."

I chuckled a little. "You’ll understand."

There was a long pause.

======== SAMPLE 3 ========
 as she raised an eyebrow.

"That," Taylor said, "Does not make a lot of sense. What she’s saying is… do we run?"

"Yes," Brian said, with a level tone that suggested he knew he wasn’t being entirely honest.

Lisa frowned, "That’s a fair sentiment, but what I’m getting at is you’re being a little controlling. You might want to reconsider."

Brian shook his head a little. "I don’t think there’s much point to taking another path. I’d like to keep moving forward, do my own thing, even if I have to take one or two detours for the sake of doing so. I can accept that I’m going to be pushed out and go a different route. It’s what I want to do, anyways."

"That’s not entirely true," Taylor said, "I might want to keep going, do my own thing that suits my current circumstances, if things don’t get too much."

"There's no point to you sticking around. You don’t have any authority, so there’ll be nothing stopping you from taking advantage of a situation like this. I think it’s best if we move on from here."

Brian frowned, "I do consider it a minus, but I’d like to keep going with our organization, keep trying new things until we get to a solid, consistent arrangement. This could be a way to do that. It’s something we could all do."

"For now-"

"We need to make headway," Lisa cut in.

Golly. "Don’t be so sure. The people we need to keep in touch with are your ex and her lawyer. I’m not sure when they’ll be free, but we can give them a heads up that we’re moving them from Brockton Bay to a distant location. I’m guessing you’re a newbie to this, probably not up to speed, but can you pass on the word? I could put you in touch with the others in the room, get them on the line for me before long."

I tried, but her voice carried through the intercom system.

The others stood from their seats.

"We need your help," Taylor said.

There was a long pause.

"We can’t make progress if you insist on keeping things firm," Amy said.

"I’m getting the impression you have better things in mind."

"You’re talking about me," Taylor said, "You’re going to keep demanding, and you’re going to keep being demanding, but this can be a game of chicken. I’ll take the first loss if it’s all going to come down to this, because I love you guys. But you’re the boss. Whatever goes one way, I accept that. I just want this to work out for everybody. Everybody’s best interests."

Lisa pointed back at me. "It doesn’t. I don’t want to get this far, but I won’t accept this if it means us having to put you out of your misery. So you want to work it out, but you want to play this card so you can come after me and the others? Don’t you see the problem?"

The tension from before seemed almost lifted. I was almost grateful for that. But it wasn’t an option.

"Fine then."

"I didn’t get an opportunity to see you guys again. You guys are going to take advantage of this and push me around for the rest of the week, and if nothing else, I’m not interested in having to work with you when I could be better serving you."

"You’re a little rich for getting yourself into that situation," Alec said.

"It’s not my place to say."

"I’m trying, Taylor."

I frowned, "I don’t want to lose you, if nothing more or nothing."

"Do you mind? There’s no use having another fight for me if there’ll be another fight. Give me a chance to myself."

"There’s nothing to consider," I replied, leaning towards the chair to throw myself back into the chair and the floor to get myself comfortable. "I should probably go. I think I need a day or two to myself, before I get into this mindset I’ve been trying to establish, to really see where I am."

"You can’

======== SAMPLE 4 ========
 as well?

I felt the presence of the golden man, towering in the distance. When I looked, it was to look at his reflection in the clouds, smiling. My bugs filtered him out, but I could see through other lines of sight, my own being reflected in the clouds. I could taste the air through the clouds, as though there were a golden scent present that was somehow familiar.

If he was a hologram of me, then the golden man had made himself into a reflection of me, a false image. I didn’t really have a better way of thinking about it. The golden man was a projection of a person.

But he was just that, a reflection. And someone who saw something to share with others was an extension of that image, an extension of that person.

That someone was me, now. A shell, with myself erased, just as I had with my friends. And for the golden man, I stood out, even though he’d given me the name.

We’re one. He’d gone one step further. Did that mean we were at least partly one, or was that just something he’d done to remind himself in a way he was conscious of?

Regardless, the golden man, the golden light, it was striking. The golden man who could strike down enemies with an attack that was capable of killing an adult woman. The golden man who could turn the surrounding air into golden slag. I had an appreciation for him.

That golden light was a problem for me. There were people who could handle it, for me. I didn’t want to take it on, but I could deal with the consequences. He’d given me the ability to do it out of a kind of desperation, and he’d given me other powers to leverage it against me.

A small panic rose up inside me, and I coughed.

The golden man had sent me the way he did. Another attack. This time, he wasn’t so keen on the idea of something like us coming after him, but he was making the call on his own. The golden light wasn’t a problem. This was something I could deal with. I let myself breathe. He wasn’t attacking me. I couldn’t say why. The golden light, I knew, would harm people who couldn’t take it.

When I felt fine, I ran to the others and handed them the papers. When I’d passed out, I grabbed one for myself and hung it up behind the lockers.

I could sense them making their way down the steps. The golden man was waiting at the second, by the fire that was lit beside the front doors of the hospital.

I turned around to look at them, and saw the green of their clothing.

I could see Tecton, too, just behind him, with his shirt off and his hair tied back.

Noelle was already gone, out of the car. I couldn’t even guess why, but a short distance away from her was the golden light, a sphere with a face inside, a red iris, a red nose and black hair. The golden light wouldn’t kill, exactly, but it could give people pause. It also meant that there was no point in approaching them or taking them out of action in the meantime. I’d only have to watch from a distance.

"Noelle?" I asked the golden man.

He glanced at me, and then headed off in the other direction.

"Not so hot."

"I’m not going to do anything about it," I said, "I don’t like killing, I don’t like being ignored or scared off."

He didn’t reply, so I asked, "You don’t want to keep doing what you’re doing from here on out?"

He wasn’t sure if he agreed, but he gave me a nod. "Got it."

I put the paper into a zippered pouch, then grabbed my camera. I turned my attention back to the golden man, hoping to see what he was doing.

The golden man used his hands to brush the dust from the golden sphere’s forehead, then reached into his pouch and seized plastic gloves.

They’d been made of an alloy that held its shape and flexibility better than diamond. The golden man began gently massaging the area around the exposed skin, but not nearly as gently as he’d worked on the hands.

"You’re doing okay, then?"

He shook his head. "Yeah."

"Thank you, but I thought you were stronger anyways."

"I

======== SAMPLE 5 ========
 as I’d felt her warm body hugging me. We’d shared a moment together, and I’d made sure our paths hadn’t crossed at all.

A few blocks away, another group of villains were gathering, joining the ones that were already there. When one of the capes I was following approached me, I saw him waving a metal pole at her, before backing away.

I backed away just in time to see her step forward, grabbing the pole and waving it again.

When I’d caught up with her, she was already hurrying past all the trouble she’d committed, heading straight for Sophia. She started waving her arm, urging me to hurry up, to give her a chance to stop and speak to me. I had to stop to cough and spit up some of what I’d eaten while they were arguing.

"Taylor," she finally spoke.

"You’re awake," I lied. I was afraid to think about what Sophia had said to Regent and the others. What we’d just discussed before getting down to business. The things we’d overheard.

"I am too. My head’s hurting so badly."

"Mm?"

"Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later."

She left me a look of confusion, then hurried on, ignoring my protests.

We passed one block, the path still blocked. I felt uneasy, thinking back on what we’d said, and what we’d done after getting involved with Alec and Rachel. I felt a little disappointed. We had our share of problems, and I wasn’t willing to pay the price for that to get the answers I wanted.

We passed another block, and more of the Travelers, and I can’t say the same about them. They were still walking, though they were holding hands and chatting with one another, where two groups were getting on my case for not following the script. They weren’t giving me an answer.

A block ahead of us, a building loomed, tall and rigid in the midst of a massive storm drain. With water deep in places, it looked inviting, though it took us a block to get to, at a time when the drain was getting crowded with people trying to go home. The entrance was still in a state of formation, with parts of it jutting out in a flat vertical pillar. Three sections of the entryway, instead. I felt like a fool for thinking it would be easier to climb up.

My legs ached, and I knew it. I hadn’t had an opportunity to see any real testing of Rachel’s power, but I knew how difficult it was to climb like this. I’d also known I wouldn’t be able to climb any further up, given the difficulty of the soil.

If I was going to go up, I’d have to find the stairwell. I had reason to believe Rachel was in earshot, to the point of being in my range, giving them the signal. That was if she didn’t give me false information, or if Coil didn’t try to get in touch with her.

The stairwell didn’t bear much resemblance to Rachel’s work. It wasn’t a perfect design. Too many stairs, one set leading up to each floor instead of all at once. It would lead up to the second floor and lead down to the first floor, then lead all the way back up to the top floor.

I knew what it would take to get to the top floor, so I’d have to find the windowless, concrete room with a window facing the water inside and a grate for draining the drainage system. That room would only hold six people, and I could assume there was enough to spare to keep others contained in here.

I opened my mouth to say I could hear her, but I could barely read her posture. Whatever. I used my bugs to help me narrow her down, and I found a hand holding a pen and a stack of bills in her other hand.

"Taylor."

She smiled and reached up, gripping my wrist. A hand behind me extended an arm and let the hand go, as if it were delicate art.

"I’m sorry," I said, looking down at what I was holding. I was too. I knew what others would ask. "Can you help me? There’s some coins tucked into the pockets, some books, maybe some change, some bills, and you’ve got keys, too."

Her hand closed on my wrist, and I winced as the metal of the grate caught the sound. Had she pulled too tight

======== SAMPLE 6 ========
 as I can see, from that distance. I could see his flesh twist with a faint pink as he flexed that long, muscular body, trying to convince me that it was flesh I wasn’t seeing.

I turned my head, tried to get a glimpse at his eyes, and was startled to see that he had pupils larger than my own.

"Fuck," he said.

I could understand if my power didn’t like him, but that was the kind of thing I could get used to. If he was more fucked up because he was fucked up, I wasn’t going to mind.

"You’re back from the dead," I said.

"Uh, fuck. No."

"You’ve been playing the game," he said. "We can cut the game quick and be done with it. It’s boring as hell. We’ll walk around together for free."

"I was," I said. I looked at Tattletale. When she didn’t answer, I looked for the best explanation I could come up with.

"What?" she asked. "I thought you were helping?"

I shrugged. "Working on figuring out how to get the paperwork together this afternoon."

"So you joined the Nine. Maybe you had a hand in everything that came after, after. Things might be a little more fucked up than they are now, but you seem a hell of a lot more sane."

I shrugged. "I’ll get back to you in a second. Tattletale, are you going to go over tonight’s events and things from your perspective?"

"I think it’s a lot better than the stuff you were telling me before. It doesn’t matter. Just want to know-"

"I will read the file. You could read it after, if you want to vent. Write down the details, and do what you did before. Play dirty."

"Do whatever he does, I’ll do," I said. "Play dirty."

"I’m not interested in going over any of that."

I didn’t want to get dirty, as a matter of fact, but I wasn’t willing to lose any face, either.

"Is he playing hardball?" she asked. She didn’t bring herself to reply, instead looking at her phone. I thought of the fight over the bank account, "Maybe he thinks you want to make a fuss about it, so it means more to him. It’s probably in his interest. I’m a little worried about my ability to keep him from using your voice."

"You think?"

"I’m going to read it tonight before I go, then talk over it in detail tonight after I’ve put everything together. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll go out of my way to make things better before I make you do anything for me."

"No," I said, "I’ll get the text at the same time, at about eight."

"Oh," she said, a little breathlessly. "And your phone?"

"My phone."

She looked at it. "Okay. Go."

She stepped away.

I was still standing on the rooftop when she came forward again, "How’s the fight with Crawler going?"

"Pretty much. He keeps hitting stuff, but we’re moving too slow."

"I guess you’re on the same wavelength as I," she said. "Crawler’s too slow. I don’t like that we can’t hit things with our full attention right now."

"Right. But Crawler’s too, uh, slow. He was moving too fast when we last talked… kind of like a bullet train that wasn’t a train. So they’re basically running on two different tracks, when they ought to have been running on one."

"So what? Do you think we can make it work? I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me or my partner die, or seeing my phone go to waste, but-"

"Crawler killed half his team," her phone said. "He’s got one less. He wasn’t that big a worry before they started killing people. It’s like being on a boat with your head under water and the water keeps rushing in. You decide where you’re going, so long as you keep moving, and if you’re dead or on the verge of being taken out of action, it might do more harm than good."

"

======== SAMPLE 7 ========
 as well as a good thirty minutes into the next meeting. When she’d agreed to meet him in the future, she’d told him about her problem, how she’d been so frustrated with being stuck in one place for so long that she’d tried everything in her power to commit suicide.

"I will help," Regent told her.

"I’m not sure I want you to help. I don’t know if you would be better than me. In any case, I really want to know if there might be another solution to your problem. I’m a little nervous."

"I’m okay. Very okay. It’s so weird for me to even think about it, but there’s no way I’m good enough for you."

"Okay," he said. "How’s that?"

She looked at the envelope and it looked like it could hold three envelopes, each with one blank on each side. She moved the envelope one-handed and then opened it.

Inside were her pills, a drop of the stuff to take before bed, some food… she’d left out the first part of the food to save time, but that didn’t make her feel any better. "Why are you doing that? This is helping me."

"Because you think I’m going to say something like, ‘I’m okay because I got what I needed for today’, or I’ve got nothing else I want. Which is a little crazy," he said.

He closed the envelope.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She set the envelope aside. With her left hand, she drew out a card and punched it twice on the side of the envelope.

"What’s this?"

"It’s a reward for helping me out."

She punched in the code, and it was the second code. Three cards, three cards, with the third code. Her number has been called in. She leaves the envelope open.

He opened the envelope and saw the cards. The number 4: she’ll feel guilty about it when she returns to her room, but she doesn’t have to say anything.

He left the room.

Her heart sank. She almost wanted to go back to her room and start over. But there was the card, and the promise of a reward, even.

That was a year of hurt, three years of waiting.

She put one of the cards away. "Thank you. You’re the best damn dad. You’ll do anything for your kids. I can’t wait to see how your future is set."

He smiled a little, "Let’s go. You’ll stay here until we get my dad. If you’re tired, or if you feel like it-"

There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?"

"Me. I’m going to write you a letter."

It didn’t sound like a letter. More like an order.

"If you’re going to be late, I’ll come back, but I’m not going to talk to you."

Again, that smile, unreadable, unmoving. "I’ll write it for you later, when I’m sitting in front of my computer."

Even as she looked for someone she could be, as if to say, I should be grateful for how the situation had played out, in this way, it wasn’t as scary as it might have been a third time.

What she felt from the other side of the door was like the warmth of a child’s loyalty. "I’ll come back as soon as possible."

He turned to leave, opening his mouth. Something in his tone made her turn his way, and the pair headed to the hallway with the bedrooms.

The warm scent of roses made them pause.

The first day of school had been the hardest.

They walked together, but it wasn’t an enjoyable experience. Not easy, exactly, but not impossible either.

As they approached the front doors of school, she’d set the envelope aside, turned to him, "You’re not the one she just left."

"I didn’t come here for school. I met you, though I wasn’t invited."

"She’s a social girl. I’m supposed to invite you."

She paused to put on lipstick. She didn’t like the look of it. It

======== SAMPLE 8 ========
 as too large to fit on the end of a knife. Not ideal, but it was easier to handle. We continued walking, and we couldn’t help but notice that a small school with a bus sheltering kids down the middle of the road had been added to the commotion.

I saw him stop short, then look up and see the heroes in the crowd, snapping their heads around to see him. They were tense, and it looked like they were ready to fight, even if they didn’t necessarily see eye to eye on the subject of guns.

"So you’re sure you’re doing the right thing, Taylor?" Grue asked Tattletale.

"The right thing is?"

"I’m betting you’re in the company of your teammates. How do you think they feel about the situation?"

"Fuck me," Imp said, "This."

"Do you want to be a hero, or are you happy doing what you’re doing?"

"I’m more dangerous than I am here," she said, sighing, "Not that I have much of a choice, you know?"

"Then be my prisoner."

"I’m not asking you to do anything illegal," she told him.

I felt my heart drop. "I don’t think we’re even up on that," I said. "But how do you think I did? You let me go, what do you do? Do you think I wouldn’t turn to you to get the job done if I had to run a hundred feet along a busy road to get to it?"

"Maybe you don’t think of yourself as a dangerous man, but you’re still dangerous, if you ignore the fact that you’re mentally unstable."

"I’ll forget all of this," I said. Tattletale gave me a pointed look, then turned to go.

It struck me just how much this is similar to the conversation we had just before our last meeting. Tattletale doesn’t go out of her way to avoid the line of questioning about my involvement in the ABB situation, she doesn’t take it personally, doesn’t raise the matter, but there’s a heavy inflection to how she speaks. I wasn’t surprised.

"You aren’t going to forget any of that," I said.

"I want to remind you that I still love you, I still care about you… It’s just that… well, maybe I will forget all that if I’m old enough."

"You seem a little delirious," I said. There’s none of the other self confidence I had experienced. I’d seen myself as the person who could step into a vulnerable, confused, emaciated frame of mind and convince the world that I was a very gentle and loving husband.

Now I was experiencing what Brian sometimes referred to as the ‘dissociative amnesia'. There was nothing on the surface, but I was beginning to see how the mental images I’d been keeping in were actually playing tricks on me. One turned my thoughts into blurry, jagged images, one turned some of the images into vague words, phrases or gestures that only barely resembled recognizable objects. It wasn’t so easy to identify the real world, the physical world. Everything distorted, warped.

It was like having a sense of space blocked, but the images were fuzzy, were warped, moving in tight quarters, with many images and gestures that were almost lifelike.

I could tell the difference between how things were right now, when I looked at myself and saw myself, and when I looked at the people around me with the distortions and the images of objects in flight around me. I’d spent more than two years recovering from that.

This was the man who had abused me, who I’d seen again and again, the person who I’d fantasized about being the monster, the man who I’d believed could kill me with a glance, a whisper, and a touch. I wasn’t averse to the idea of knowing he would do it again, now. Except he had to.

I could see the way his hand rose and fell with a rhythm, the way his palms touched to his forehead or to his hair, the way the movements were counterbalanced by the gentle movements of the muscles beneath his shoulders, the way the muscles formed a rough, rounded ‘cup’ in the area where his ‘thigh’ met his midsection.

I could remember standing there with her in the crowd, watching him pull on the plastic of her costume with the cl

======== SAMPLE 9 ========
 as they continued their march through the portal.

"A lot of potential," Regent said. "The PRT? The Wards? The heroes?"

He turned his phone around in his hands, reaching into the pocket he’d kept it in his utility compartment to retrieve a text file, "Go. Get it."

■

Monday, September 15th, 11:15

I opened the curtains for Monday, letting the two hours pass in the cool breeze. I took a couple of moments to stretch, to get my muscles and the rest of me used to the cold air, and to recharge. My bugs carried the messages that had been received.

"Satisfactory, Eidolon? Anything else?"

"Yes. I’ll have him return to you in an hour or two, pick up where the other two left off."

I could imagine myself in the same mood. A surge of emotion coursed through me in one of my moments of excitement. Of course I could. My range was relatively small, but I could still find my way to the same places, just a little farther away.

"You’ll want to take the rest of Monday’s classes."

"Yes."

"That’s all for today," she said. I thought of the day’s classes as a double-check, to make sure they hadn’t slipped away. She did, however, have to work out the second half of the morning to take the final exams on Monday. I found something to do with the end of the day, my hobbies…

As I tried to compose myself, my cell phone rang. It was Miss Militia, picking up from Alexandria, who was sitting on the bench opposite me.

I turned around. "You’re done?"

"I think I’ll start tomorrow, but I think we won’t forget about Monday."

"Good. Come say hi, and maybe catch up with the others, if they get a chance."

I grabbed the ring, stepped outside, and headed back into the cold, damp night air. I took the time to compose myself, to think, and tried to think of a way to reach Tattletale. My entire body swam, my thoughts turned to her, and when I looked, I saw just one picture with Armsmaster and Armsmaster posing together.

Had she taken the picture? I couldn’t imagine it, could barely picture it. That I hadn’t, had it crossed the line into something inappropriate, something that wasn’t her fault, it was my doing.

My thoughts turned to that terrible memory of the last few weeks. The way Armsmaster’s presence had been oppressive. Being alone, the way his presence was a deterrent, an obstacle.

Had I crossed the line? Had I done something to bring Armsmaster down somewhere near this point?

It would depend on how much I could convince myself I would never cross the line again.

Which wasn’t to say that I’d blame myself. I did what I did because I had reason to do it again. I didn’t think twice about crossing the line, because it wouldn’t be in her hands, and I was afraid she wouldn’t find out anyways.

But I still had to face the fact that I’d acted, that I’d done something uncharacteristic of myself, and that it had cost me one of my only opportunities to get what I wanted.

"Come," she said. Her voice was firm. "Sit."

I sat and she settled into an armchair. "You think you’ll have fun. I’ll find something to amuse yourself. No offense."

"No offense. The only people who really enjoy the games are idiots. We don’t deserve any of them."

"I’ve always had a hobby," I told her. "Just not games."

"If my son is doing it, if he’s going to enjoy it, it’s because he hasn’t learned to play."

"How do you get your hands on a Wii?"

"Pizza," I said, a touch defensively.

"Pizza."

I shrugged. "I don’t do much for him. If I buy one, he probably doesn’t go to school, because I was such a dutiful student. Or if I do well in school, maybe he gets to put me up."

"You’re doing fine as a family," I said, hoping she’d be happier, seeing the progress she’d made. I could see her getting frustrated with herself, with

======== SAMPLE 10 ========
 as long as a year or two," Tattletale said. "We didn’t tell you."

"We did, if you recall," Miss Militia said.

"And if you recall right now is when they first found out about your status?"

"Right."

"I’m thinking I’ve seen the person you saw," I said, "And guess what? They weren’t lying."

"I don’t like this," Tattletale frowned. "It’s like you can put two and two together. They saw it. I’m wondering if I’m wrong, and we could have avoided this whole thing with Coil."

"Do tell," Miss Militia cut in. "But remember, I have to go back to my territory here, so this isn’t as serious as it sounds. Tattletale, do you have anything more serious to report?"

There was a short exchange here and there among voices. Some were polite, others weren’t.

"I’m seriously thinking this is serious," Tattletale sighed. "You guys get yourselves together, tell someone, someone else-"

"No more than this?" Miss Militia asked.

"…I’ll be careful," Tagg replied. "We’re doing this a second time. Tattletale, how do you believe in this? You two are sticking to your deals?"

"So be it," Tattletale said, abruptly. "And I’m not getting any more than a month’s pay, and I’m taking full advantage of the other agreements. Make all the decisions for myself."

"That seems in some ways like a fair compromise," Miss Militia replied.

"It does," Tattletale conceded. "But I don’t necessarily like these new terms either, but we can talk about that. Thank you for joining us."

Tattletale looked at me, "Don’t put me on the spot. It’s okay if you don’t like them. I know you’ve got a hard time with the way things have gone, and that’s expected. You’re on your own in terms of how you get along in a new situation, as far as the group dynamics go, and you’re allowed to make your own decision about what’s going on with your territory."

"Okay." I did that, hoping maybe to get an admission and a resolution here. No such luck. She just smiled and let herself in.

It took a few minutes for us to get there. The ground floor was pretty much empty. The building opened up, and we were first in line. Tattletale led the way, so we found ourselves next to Grue and Imp. Our group had gathered so we could all line up together, with me sitting at the far end of the table, Grue to my left, Imp sitting to my right. Both had their masks affixed.

I glanced at Lisa, "Okay, so let’s say we’ve discussed this at length. The Undersiders are not getting any additional services. They’re being deprived of what they need to receive, because things don’t go the way you’re hoping."

Tattletale looked surprised. If anything, taking a risk like that seemed like a good idea to her. She was also, I suspected, very aware of how she was positioned in this scenario. Nobody could say outright anything to her and get an answer, but I didn’t want her to be disappointed here.

"You want us to pay up?" Regent asked.

"It’s a pretty small sum of money, for somebody with my level of power," she said, "Which means…" she looked at me, "That’s just us."

This wasn’t a situation where I could get caught up in a discussion, so I turned the discussion to something else. "And you want to get this over with?"

She let out a long, slow sigh.

"No problem," I answered her, "But how do I do that?" A little too soon after we’d agreed to this discussion, but I found a good bit of background on her and her family by now. I brought up the subject again.

"There’re video cameras in your territory," she said. There was no ambiguity in her voice. I turned to Regent, "Video cameras."

Another sigh, from Tattletale. "Your neighbors have theirs. I see the gear they put on."

"No questions asked," Regent said, "Not when they know my business."

In the

======== SAMPLE 11 ========
 as he drew closer to me. I was already standing, my hands on the gun barrel. "So. You two are in agreement? Let’s get started."

A pause.

"He made me look pretty bad. Not gonna do anything to upset your mood, but I can’t help but imagine it was him."

"You’re a pretty big guy now. Let’s just say I’m going in unprepared."

"Let’s hear it."

My dad picked up the phone, "Taylor..?"

"I’m in shock," I confessed. "Just going by my notes, the situation has gotten significantly worse."

"What’s going on?"

"I’m not surprised. Wasn’t a planned outcome, as far as I know? But it’s one thing to take a life."

"And what would we do if you weren’t around," I asked.

"I don’t know. I can’t leave without letting you know what happened, and it’s another to see you there and hear what happened."

"So this is it?"

"It’s a done deal. Everything’s settled. They’re not going to come for me anytime soon, I won’t be charged or face any charges, but I’ll be leaving a criminal history that might be troublesome for the feds to deal with. I’ll be going out of town. I guess that’s in one place on the table. If you two have any objections, I just want to leave it at that. As far as I can tell, this is the easiest solution available."

"And you’re in."

"I’m in shock. It’s like I’re being thrown back into the middle of the night, after a day at the office. And I’m not the only one. I saw the news with my dad. Lisa was at a loss for words. Sophia was panicking."

"What did she do?"

"She stabbed us both in the throat. It was the bloodiest fight that we’ve ever had at home. There was a little girl in the middle of it. And you remember what happened afterwards? Your dad barged in, we stabbed him, and he managed to keep the bleeding from going any further. I’m sure he was bleeding enough that you two might have killed each other just to keep each other sane."

"My dad."

"Which is more than many would think."

My dad had been a hard man, Taylor mused. He’d been the son, if Taylor herself wasn’t the daughter. My dad was a hard man. He’d lived a life defined by insecurity, an intensity that wouldn’t let him rest for long. Like Taylor, he was on the up and up.

And it was at the same time that I remembered something else. It’s important to note they weren’t the aggressors. It might have been my dad’s voice in my ears, or maybe my imagination.

"I imagine it’s much the same way," my dad said. I nodded a little.

"I know I’m a little unfocused. My mind’s wandering."

"Then it wouldn’t be a bad idea to put it to rest," he said.

"I’ll try."

I glanced at Brian, who was talking like he just got out of prison. He was wearing a gray sweater, khakis and sweatpants, both rolled up. No marks or injuries that warranted an appearance on television or in the media. Maybe he’d be happier to be home from the hospital.

No, I wanted to focus on the problem at hand.

"What’s going on?" Lisa asked.

"Lisa, are you serious?"

"Not serious, but a lot’s changed."

"You said something about my family."

"No. But I’m going to tell you I’ve got some bad news and some good news. The bad news is that you shouldn’t ever get out of my family’s reach again. Lisa," Lisa pulled the phone from her hand and pressed the screen, "I’m going to ask that you guys keep me off your phones, for the time being. Good luck, and good luck with your family-"

"I’ll call you," I snapped the phone back, "If anything goes wrong, or if it’s something that’s going to take

======== SAMPLE 12 ========
 as long as I have the strength, and a kick as strong as an airplane hitting the ground. He hits the ground, and I stand tall, all proud to be a part of his. I’m… well, I’m the last one standing, so I guess I’ll say it.

I didn’t have anyone to compare it to. I’d never been in a stable situation, or in a shooting or mugging situation. I’d never really had a stable mindset, or a clean one, at least.

In the few months since our last reunion, I’d sought out a doctor to check my injury, not to mention fix or replace the damage that came with the previous surgery and rehabilitation program. It didn’t help that I was still reeling from his attack, and I wasn’t even sure if my ego was holding me back, or if I was too occupied with my worries, worrying instead about trying to get some rest or settling into that new routine.

My leg wasn’t even my first thought when I awoke.

"What happened?"

"Bastard," my dad said. I resisted the urge to cringe, and he kept his eyes on me. "He hit me. Really hard. Can’t describe it, but things got a lot uglier than they are now. It looked like I was being stabbed."

"I don’t want to get this off your record," I said, as I looked around the room. There was nobody around to help me walk. "But you’re not telling me what happened."

"And you don’t want to hear the answer either."

"It’s not that kind of stuff," I said.

"No? I can’t believe it doesn’t count."

"Well, you’re not the only one who’s suffering, and the reasons that keep popping into my head keep getting worse after I see them on the mirror, or after I hear about it on the radio. When you were down there, I think you were thinking really hard about how to use what you’ve got. You were making it look easy, and if you can’t use it now, you need more time to get used to it."

I didn’t have a reply to that. My breathing grew heavy. I was going to fight to stay standing, to keep my feet beneath me, try to find some resistance, but my resolve was slipping into a kind of slumber, and I didn’t want to wake anyone or push myself too far enough without saying something that would make it worse.

"Bastard’s back with his mom and I think he’s ok. Not saying I like it, but I like it more than what’s going on right now."

I nodded.

"He didn’t hurt you, did he?"

"Yeah."

"He- he’d hurt you if he didn’t want to get hurt. I don’t- I haven’t seen any- I haven’t heard anything that would lead me to believe he didn’t."

"You’ve heard of him?"

"Um. He’s- he wasn’t on my radar before this."

"He’s a minor, at school? He doesn’t have any friends?"

"No."

"Then why wasn’t he on your radar?"

"Mm."

"And did he kill his mom and dad? Kill himself? Or-"

"No," he said, "Not exactly… he doesn’t go out as much as he used to. I’m going to say he’s got it in him."

"Did you kill him, if you don’t remember?"

"No." There was a pause.

"Then why isn’t he dead by now?"

"I’m surprised by that," he said, "I don’t- I don’t really give a damn about dead bodies or anything."

"If your power allows it," my dad said, "You’ll find something."

"I’d rather not," I said. "I’m glad he’s alive, but my power doesn’t let me see anything."

"If that’s the case-"

"You’ll find it when you get the chance. There’s other places my power can point to, like when I’m in earshot of whatever people are talking about

======== SAMPLE 13 ========
 as I got the last bit of info. "I want him to come to the office."

"That’s what you want, right?" he asked. "We take his phone, we keep this contact information, and we’re more or less out of your fucking mess, in six seconds."

"Yeah," I agreed. There was a moment’s hesitation, as he fumbled for the phone and then turned it around.

"I don’t know what this is supposed to be about. What’s your last name? K?"

"G.R.R."

"Yeah. Okay." She didn’t move.

"So? I know you didn’t come here to be rude. This’s really important, I feel like I could get you into custody with some work."

"I’ll see what I can do."

I sat down on the edge of the bed and folded my hands on the edge of the mattress, shivering. It was cold out, and it felt like it would be five or ten minutes before the day was over and we would all be warm in the cozy confines of my territory.

"I… hope I didn’t fuck this up. You want to use my power. You could track me down."

"I’ll get a response out of you before I can track you down. Take it or leave it. But no abuse of me."

I had to use my power to respond. "I got a response in the affirmative. So? Are you going to ask me to leave?"

"Maybe you’ll have to. I’m a little annoyed, I just want to ask you one favor and you’ll have to take notice if you do. Forgive me for being impatient, but I’m hoping this works out for you."

"Okay," I stood from the bed, making myself get up. "Thank you. For the information, here’s the problem. You and your team have been using your bugs as leverage to get what they want. My power can give you a second thought and you won’t get hurt, but I’m getting a second thought. You should do this yourself and we’ll both get an apology from you. This could be a long-term thing."

"So? I’ll go to the bathroom?"

"Okay. Let’s do that after I get my clothes and hair in order."

"Thank you."

"Keep doing what you’re doing. If you’re feeling particularly rude, leave now and I’ll deal. You’ve got a few seconds. And do yourself a favor, and don’t use my power on me."

I didn’t see a response. I could feel her out, see if I could get a response to her question.

There was a pause.

"Let’s get moving," I said. "C'mon."

She climbed onto Gordon’s back. I took off, pushing myself to a standing position. I had to fight to haul myself over the edge. Once I was there, I walked briskly to the front door of my territory.

There was a knock on the door.

"What’s wrong?"

"I heard what you did," the male voice said, "It’s bad. You’re dangerous."

The door remained open, while my heart pounded, but there was no indication from the male that anything was wrong as he stepped outside. Curiosity killed a feeling. I stepped down into the hallway, shut the door behind me, and kicked myself. Why were they waiting on this?

I’d gotten off easy, in the last few days. I could barely walk, and it was harder to maintain a steady grip. It was more likely that, here, it would even be worse.

I turned to my thoughts from 'Bad to the point that I could die from it and I’d be all the way back for nothing’ to…' to 'I’d lose it all if the male didn’t keep his cool, kill all of us, and the women would kill themselves and wind up pregnant. Even here. You don’t think I could pull this off?’

I’m just… what would I say when I was done on a scale of one to ten? To be honest, I didn’t know.

Fuck. We’d be better off dead.





Colony 14.10


I was going to let my feelings get the better of me, but I couldn’t

======== SAMPLE 14 ========
 as it turned out.

"Yeah. She was one of those girl who could make their hand grow big, and there’s pictures of her around. So there."

"Okay. And that’s what we used to name him. Then she started meeting other villains. I could remember what her powers were. They had some chemistry or something. They would have done something similar to where she’d made her hands into maces and thrown them around, but there wasn’t anything real. They just sort of happened, and she became more like her real self. Wasn’t much worse than the way she had been before, and things went smoothly from there. Except…"

"And he became worse," Lisa said, "She got the worst of both worlds. One wasn’t bad at all, even, but they thought it was worth it, that she would get better with the help of it. That’s all it was."

"That’s not what I’m saying. You’re saying she was already doing terrible things, but it was just that…" Tattletale trailed off. "You’re saying I’m right. Don’t worry about me. I’m not about to get on her bad end. Just…"

"I don’t believe you," he said, cutting her off.

"It’s not really that. Don’t get hung up on it."

"It was pretty stupid. Just… I don’t know, I’m thinking more about the way she’s been acting lately. A lot’s been going on since she started acting like she wanted to kill us all instead of just being a little rash, but I think she’s taken some kind of solace in that… um, I dunno, she’s trying to feel better so she won’t act like a little bitch again. I’ve gotten on her bad side before, maybe because I was just getting on my friend’s bad side, but it’s different here."

"I’m not really your friend," Tattletale said.

I could taste the blood in the air. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t make a good first impression, no matter how much I wished she’d gone clean and had never met me after, but she could get on my bad side, and it would be on me more than it would be with anyone else. I didn’t like that. That there were so many drawbacks to befalling someone like that, as if I’d ever befriended her.

This was why I’d been so annoyed with him.

"Don’t call me that," he said. "I’ve known you guys well enough that I’m not going to give someone special treatment."

"We’re doing this for you, for our teammate."

"I can’t do it for everyone. It’s risky, and the risks don’t get better with power. Tattletale and I don’t know enough about it right now…"

"How is it risky?"

"You’re giving us a signal?"

"We keep this up and you win?" she pressed the button. The car began accelerating. "It’ll be over soon."

Lisa put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me away. I felt a pang of sadness at the realization that we’d done this once before.

I was thinking about getting on Bitch’s bad side. "What if I told her? How would you feel?"

"Good. But I’m not sure if it’s wise to break up an important group. I’ll need your help to make sure you’re okay long-term."

"Alright. Thanks. Bye now."

It was a short distance away, but she kept coming. I had a little distance between us, but she was ahead by four or five paces. I managed to keep the car from swerving.

"You get on his bad side?" I asked.

"Yeah. No- I think you were being sarcastic. He has less control over his own impulses. He can be a little rash when he comes after you, a little too prone to impulses that are out of his control, but he isn’t going to kill you. He’s got a bit of a temper, but I think it’s more to do with the fact that he’s suffering, rather than his lack of control."

"Okay." I could picture it, the fact that

======== SAMPLE 15 ========
 as well.

So I was going to do something, no doubt something I was going to say under my breath, and no doubt it’d be something I regretted a moment later. A smile would come to my lips, and a small part of me would wish I’d spent less time in my office, because I knew I wasn’t the best person for the job.

It still… it hit me. I couldn’t explain it. I could only feel bad that I’d taken so long to come to a decision, even though I knew I was telling the truth. I couldn’t say it was because of guilt, or that I was regretting my decision on so many levels, but it was partly because I didn’t want to put my head back in Grue’s hands.

Why hadn’t I called someone?

There were a few possibilities. I could have sent it to Coil. It didn’t make any sense. He would have gotten involved right away, and my theory wasn’t even a half-sane one.

"We should head down and get settled," Grue said.

"We have time," I said.

"We’ve talked about what we’re doing before," Regent said. "This is going to cost our little family a lot of respect. I’m not sure we can cut it off, even on good days, but…"

He trailed off as he said it.

It took me awhile to compose my thoughts. I took a deep breath, then opened my mouth to say something else. I shut it when I realized what I was trying to say.

I exhaled slowly. "Grue. You were always a better teammate, and I’ve come to expect the same from you while I supervillain."

"I agree," Grue said. "I know you’re the type to give you credit."

I turned to face him, but he was already stepping down the stairs, stepping out of the room.

I saw Tattletale frown as Lung stopped in front of Lung, staring straight ahead.

"Don’t be like that," she said. "It’s always better to hear your side of things."

"Tt hat’s not saying I hate it, but-"

"Just listen," Tt said. "Be more careful with the words you use around her. We aren’t the only ones with our powers. She’s not the only one who’s smart. You wouldn’t be the only one with your own ideas about family."

He looked at me, then at the door. "I’m not sure that’s possible, but it does happen. I’ve had my own family break apart. I’ve had others leave me. It happens, and it’s easy to come back to."

I felt a pit rise in my stomach.

"I’ve seen it," I said, before he could get to the next topic, "This doesn’t be a goodbye. This is an invitation to stay."

He shook his head, "That’s not what I expect. I expect to stay. To be close, to be the family I’m wanted to be in. But I’m not ready."

"I know."

"I’ll take a day or two before I feel at home. For the rest of the month, I want you to come every day, watch me. You get nothing, you have nothing. I’m going to be watching you, and I never want you to leave me alone."

He sighed. It took only a second for him to compose himself. "I’m going to see you. I’ll take the day or two before I feel at home before I go, and then we can talk."

"Oh god."

"And maybe one or two weeks from now, I won’t know. I could make it a few weeks, and I’ll still feel at my ease, but I’ll feel like I’ve never really left her."

"Then it’s more likely you’re right."

"I’ve been meaning to make this short."

"Don’t make it a lot. It could be a few paragraphs or you’d wind up with too much structure in one sentence."

"I think you’re being too kind."

"You’re being quite generous."

"I’m very close to feeling like I’m in a state

======== SAMPLE 16 ========
 as there were no obvious points of entry. It was also the reason Tattletale had gone ahead with the plan. Getting supplies to the capital was paramount, but there was little to be gained if there was trouble in the interim.

"We can’t send her in with the others…" Tattletale hesitated, then shrugged. "So we’ve got her go right, but she’s here. We get a fresh set of costumes, but we better be ready to evacuate the next time we see her. Maybe we’m not even wearing our swim trunks on the way out."

"We have to make a final push before noon," I said. "I can do a recon call."

She nodded, then smiled. "That sounds good. Keep the phone on the speaker."

I hung up, then made the call again.

"She will be waiting," I said. "If she is, she’s listening, so we’ll get the message in the meantime."

"Okay."

Sometime between noon and four in the morning, depending on how much we’ll need a push. It wouldn’t do to have a fight near the end of the afternoon.

"I’m going to walk around my territory," Grue said. "I don’t want to draw too much attention."

I thought of how our exchange had gone. To be fair, he had invited the others who were in the city to join him in his castle in a similar vein. Maybe there would be some reciprocity here, but I was confident that they would have expected him to take the route of least resistance. I could envision it escalating, in a bad situation. More than one, I’d thought, a situation that would put them in a prime position to harm him or her. I was hoping there was a way to mitigate the risk.

"Okay. Whatever," I said. "Thanks. Now, I can’t be the only one making calls when-"

"Stop. I’m calling Coil. The Undersiders."

"Why?" I asked.

"Coil’s not here," Brian said. "We can’t communicate with him."

"We should go," Grue said.

"But-" I started.

"And," he snapped his head around so he still had his glasses on, "I’ve got other stuff to attend to," he said, "So I’m going to walk back to my territory and grab a book. I’m going to read if we get anything in return, and I’ll have a few minutes more to talk about that in private."

I stared at him. He wasn’t moving. If he was going to leave without a word, I wouldn’t have a problem with that. It could even come as a total relief. I was resigned to sitting back and letting things slide as we made our way back.

"Let’s go. Good luck?" I called out.

"Go fuck yourself. Fuck me with a book," he swore under his breath.





Agitation 3.9


I could have stayed longer, but time was money in this situation, and being out of sight was better than a long, drawn out argument. I stepped outside and tried to get my bearings, walking briskly to Coil’s base as I headed up to Brian’s room. It was dark inside, which helped as I felt the dampness of Brian’s damp hair washing over my upper limbs, but it was cold nonetheless. The walls were dusty, the bedding battered. Brian didn’t have an accent, but it seemed he was in the company of the others.

I knew where I should be going. I knew Coil lived there, and I had no reason to think he would be a threat. I had no idea how to navigate the situation. I should probably go after Coil, arrest him and talk to Tattletale about the situation, but…

I was a fighter, mentally. I was sticking to my guns now, because doing otherwise was just as bad, if not worse. But maybe the way this played out, I didn’t feel like I would be a real fighter. Maybe I would end up like Rachel, standing over Brian’s body, a knife in hand, ready to attack him if he stepped, or even attempted to attack me.

The thought made me sick to my stomach, and it didn’t sit well with me either. I closed my eyes for a moment, and I could hear nothing but the buzzing of my neurons as I slowly descended into unconsciousness. I dreamt of the pair of them fighting. Of the knives

======== SAMPLE 17 ========
 as well. A moment’s reflection caught my attention. Two people were silhouetted against a black backdrop.

They’d been captured, I thought.

"They’re dead?"

"They’ll be coming shortly," he said. "Be ready for the first bodies."

"If you’ll see fit. A few things are bothering me. I understand if it’s causing you a bit of a problem, but I’m uncomfortable enough with how things have been going with that, and I’m not going to have you worrying."

I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I closed it.

I’m going to be a good man, I thought.

His arm softened as he raised his head, meeting my eyes. He had a hard stare, deep set, with a chin that was already heavily set, but still hanging. I looked away, staring into space.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he saw me.

"Thank you."

He didn’t react. He stepped forward, until he stood at a height that placed him beside me.

"I wouldn’t be comfortable with a man like you."

"I understand the point." A soft laugh. "It’s nice to meet you, I have to warn you, I’m not a very good liar."

"You want me to lie?"

"You have your reasons for wanting to play this up. I’m willing to entertain the notion."

"If you’d told me that you had nothing to hide?" I asked.

He shook his head.

This doesn’t make any sense.

"Can I get the impression that the man hasn’t told you," I observed him, raising my eyes to the sky, "That he has something to hide?"

He shook his head.

"That’s not important," he said. "What I’m interested in is the impression you’ll leave on him. You didn’t have to do this."

"Why not?"

"That’s my business, not yours, I’m afraid."

I didn’t respond to that.

"I’ll explain. Your being here tonight was a little unexpected, with Leviathan making the landfall in this particular time, but I could hope that it would spark something along those lines. That, and there’s other options. I think the idea would be that he comes to you."

"Other options?"

"He comes to you to see if you could provide him with a greater reward, and to see if you might be willing to share information with him for other reasons. To see if you’re brave enough to face the consequences of whatever he does, and, if so, to see whether your skills could stand up to his scrutiny."

Damn.

"And maybe he leaves you," I noted the man’s hands against my shoulders. "Just you and me."

"And? Are you offering to share anything more?"

"He’s in a state of denial," I said.

"It’s not the first time you’ve done that," he said. "Or the second, or even the third. I think you have something of an ulterior motive."

"He’s not delusional," I said. "Even the third, I don’t know whether to believe or not."

"Well, we can’t expect anything less," he said. "But I’m asking politely. We should discuss this."

So you can see yourself as an ally.

"Let’s have a discussion," I said.

His hand settled on my arm. His lips met mine, as he looked at my arm. He didn’t say anything. He simply closed his mouth. "Let’s."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he settled his hands in my hands, "Let’s."

I shut my mouth.

"My offer," he said. "Is this your offer too, Taylor?"

"I don’t want you to take your offer," I said. "I’m not claiming to be a strong ally, or even a trustworthy one."

"You have something to hide, and you do have something to keep to. That’s something we can all benefit from."





Shell 4.10


Maybe I’m being too harsh. There was nothing saying he wouldn’t keep that to himself, once

======== SAMPLE 18 ========
 as so much trash, with a few bugs working to pull it together into something resembling a body. It could move, but I never got a good look at what it looked like through the panes of transparent pane that lined its head.

The cyborg had a handle on its hand, with a blade at the end of it, suggesting it had some sort of work done with the hand. The blade was a shapeshifting gray stone, not unlike Dragon’s, and there was a row of wires running from it to both the top of its claw and to the handle, indicating it had some form of a blade. There was a hole in the uppermost portion of the blade, perhaps for the spools that would be threaded through the fingers and wristbands, and a similar plug near the end of the hand, suggesting it was some sort of baton, though it was too short to be a real weapon.

The cyborg was in nearly complete darkness when I got it, but it was too light for it to have been on after I entered the building. It was more than likely set up like a police or military van, with a light-duty interior, and a metal grille at the top.

The cyborg had a gun, though it had a stock and barrel shorter than my arm, with an aluminum and black disc at the same time. It had a pistol grip with a small clip that sat at the bottom, and a handle at the top. The device was dark gray, the body material matching the rest of the cyborg.

I opened the top drawer and dragged the gun out, then rummaged upstairs to find the case. I opened it and retrieved a small gun case, a knife, taser, a file folder, a tube of pepper spray, a pen, a cell phone, a spare key chain, and a key chain w/o spare loop.

Opening the top drawer revealed a plastic zip lock case, a small flashlight, an additional zippered pocket for my wallet, a cloth zippered pouch with my underwear and a spare battery, and more straps and paneling.

Inside the case was a small toaster and coffee maker. I had only one for each of the two things I’d brought upstairs, and the case included both of those items. I was pretty sure that it was supposed to be placed in the upper left hand corner, beside my cell phone, so I opened it and retrieved a mug.

"You can tell me what you found?" I asked.

"No," Rachel said. "You’re not supposed to keep this kind of thing…"

I looked at the contents inside. "I’ll let you know as soon as I have something to share."

She hesitated.

"…It really sucks."

Silence, as if the words could never come out. "I had a little money of mine in there, and the guy that was trying to get it said he just lost it in a fire, leaving me holding it for five or ten minutes."

"Then he must have been a bad person. He’d be fucking sick of it if he hadn’t had a small fortune," she said. "I’ve been on my last medication, so I don’t have much to go on, but he could have used that as an excuse not to keep an eye on me."

"Like hell he could have," I said. "You don’t know me, and he could have done a lot with little or the full amount. You’ve got my gun, your weapon of choice."

She nodded.

"But the bigger thing is that I don’t want you running around with a gun."

"Running around with a gun is like running around with a broomstick," I said. "It’s not worth it."

"It’s like asking me and my brother if it’s cool if we can ride a bike," Rachel said, without breaking eye contact with me, "It isn’t."

"Why not? I’ve been on my last meds," I said. "No point if there’s nobody to call if I want help getting back on track."

She didn’t budge. Maybe it was the fact that I was standing in broad daylight, but I gave her a look that suggested she wasn’t about to be swayed. Rachel, for her part, looked around me as though she were trying to see if there was any potential.

Was she trying to figure out if she could find something in the empty chair or desk to climb over? Or would she approach me and beg for a ride?

We’d had enough practice climbing into cars, and the thing with the gun situation was still fresh in

======== SAMPLE 19 ========
 as in the case of the two teenagers. The ones in the house, the ones that were supposed to be close, weren’t.

The ground shook, and Lung was the first to respond: "There’s a problem! Hurry up, now!"

Lung was almost impervious to me, and even I knew that if he’d even heard us, it wouldn’t have been nearly as easy for his voice. Still, he was the first to break the silence. When the others had joined him, I’d said something, but my aim had been lost at the fact that I hadn’t been paying attention at the time.

"This is probably stupid," he said. "But why is it that we come here more?"

"It’s to talk. It’s to listen, to know what we’re talking about, not just watch," I said. "But maybe, if Lung can’t get any hold, I can ask him what he thinks about me. Can I ask him? The rest of you?"

He glanced down at the others, and others he hadn’t seen. "What’s to say he won’t get hold?"

I thought about why I hadn’t asked him. It had something to do with the damage the Endbringers were doing, the way they were spreading, the fact that they’d killed people who had dealt with Lung, and then there was the fact that I was black, and he was human. It was kind of absurd that he wasn’t interested.

I could imagine him thinking that there was another dimension to me, maybe the other half of what’s-his-name, which was not who I saw myself as.

"Maybe," I agreed. "It’s not the end of the world."

"But you’d give him the benefit of what he doesn’t have right now. Exceptional powers. It’s just… I don’t know what that means, but maybe it’s the most powerful human being you’ve come across. Maybe I’m in a position to be able to find that out, maybe not."

"Okay. I get it. What do you have to say about that?"

"I’m tired," he said. "I think. But I’m also too tired to think. I want to think. I want us to come to a conclusion, and it’s got to do more to help people than anything else, but I don’t know what that is. I think you guys have your conclusion already laid out for us all to see. If there’s no real problem, if this doesn’t go too badly, or if we do a little better, that’s cool."

There was a pause. "Is it even a conclusion?"

"I want to see this through to the end. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned. You’re in a position to decide."

Another pause.

"Okay. Here’s my bottom line: I think I mentioned I’ve got a solution to the Endbringers problem."

"And you’re willing to part with it?"

"I’m the second to call it treason, but no, I’m not willing to hand over the secret we’re working on."

"That’s a no, then, isn’t it? I’m not surprised at that. But I’m wondering if it’s treasonous to call a plan like this one for the public good, with all these stakes?"

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I mean, if it makes me look better to the others, it might. But I’m a person, and my goal is bigger than our collective reparations. So it’s not about me helping people, it’s about everybody helping."

"And that includes giving you the benefit of any conclusions you come to?"

"Yes, except that we get to do them anyway," I replied. "As it stands, I’m basically leaving you guys alone."

He gave an apologetic sigh. "You’re getting more and more irritated."

"I’m glad," I said.

"What’s the point, if there’s no relief?" he asked. He sounded almost sheepish.

"I’ll admit I don’t know, if it isn’t something I can help get out of that situation. I’ll pass on

======== SAMPLE 20 ========
 as she ran a hand along his cheek.

It doesn’t matter. Tattletale.

He felt a bit of a rise in heartbeat, then a dull throb as he felt the muscle of her forearm push up against his own. When her hand went to his cheek, he could feel a faint heat to it. The heat of a burned flesh.

I know that feeling.

Tattletale reached up and put a hand on his shoulder.

She was in his bedside when he opened his eyes. He felt the warmth of a t-shirt pressed to his chest, wet from the morning’s activity. It didn’t feel so hot. He’d left it at the loft and it was chilly. He didn’t wear a shirt anymore.

A smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"You’re the first person I get to talk to," he said, "And I don’t really believe everyone’s going to say hello."

"I hope they don’t," she said.

■

His eyes widened. "What?"

"We’re trying to take care of her. Not to push too hard. Her chest’s swelling so I was hoping you and Miss Militia would join me."

"So we’re together. You’ve got a lot of leverage, but if I screw up, I’m going to worry that you’ll be forced to watch as our unborn child was taken."

"You’re trying to scare me."

"You’re right," he said, "That’s the way you want a situation to be. It isn’t great. And I’m going to need a few minutes longer before I can finish setting you up."

Her voice was almost gentle as she said, "You’re a little noisy. Not as badly as you’d like, but…"

He was almost gentle with himself. He wasn’t sure he deserved his respite.

"The second you stop complaining, I’ll decide if you have enough time to relax and talk with your daughter."

"You’re still in," he said.

"I’m taking two long walks through the city today, then walking two more before I’m back at the loft for dinner, the following night," she said, "And maybe a late night. I’ll go."

At that, he didn’t have an answer to that.

They left it at that. A walk through downtown with his daughter, a dinner with his wife.

"We’ve put ourselves in pretty dire straits," he said.

"It’s not life or death," she said.

"It’s a choice. Choose."

"I think you’re underestimating…" he trailed off. She didn’t get what he was trying to get out of the end of the sentence. There was something else.

"Not as dire as I thought. I’ll see you soon. Thank you. Bye-bye."

It was like a switch had gone off in her head.

It wasn’t him in his apartment in the middle of the night and waking up to find someone waiting for him.

It was her, on the bed in his living room. There were sheets under the sheets, a bedside table and a coffee table beneath the bed. Her breasts were large enough she’d need some support, and since she’d put herself on a diet to cut herself off from his bed, the weight of them wasn’t going to bother him.

As he’d noticed when he had his cell phone, she was wearing flip flops, and she wore boots to help her balance the large tits against the small of her back. It wasn’t large breasts.

His eyes drifted down. She was staring at him.

"If we’re really going to go that route, we need to do it with the knowledge that I’m not really in a position to stop us. At least, not for much long," she said.

He glanced down the length of her body. Every part of her except her boobs, her hips, hips only, knees, hands and feet weren’t hard, but he could see how swollen and bleeding where the fat had cut into her skin. She was young, perhaps ten or twelve. He’d hoped to be closer to sixteen, and she’d come close. He’d been right.

The sight of them made his breath escape in surprise.

She didn�

======== SAMPLE 21 ========
 as well) I used to manage us, and this time I was asking to use him.

I didn’t want to be distracted just once more. I started putting the key cards from the lock in the appropriate positions on the desk. I looked at Doctor Mother, who was facing me, and I didn’t see one of her usual retinues.

"Not one of her people," I said in the same instant I said, "Or not my people. There’s other people I’ve sent people to see that were turned around as criminals."

"Then you’re really not impressed," she said.

Then she moved to walk away, but someone grabbed her elbow and pushed her back, apparently without a care as to who or what it was about.

I winced at the pain it caused.

I tried to use the flight pack, and with Doctor Mother on my heels, I pulled the wings off its outside surface.

I watched as it expanded, rising into the sky for the first time since I came back from Brockton Bay. A moment later, for a second time, it exploded with enough force to flatten buildings.

I looked, and I could see two forms, both large, vaguely humanoid. One was close enough to the window that the glass could fit through, but there was something between them we didn’t understand. The other wasn’t.

And it had a core, a rigid point where the glass and metal and whatever else met. I could just barely make out the figure’s details, with some areas of the body being darker, the lower halves of the lower body being lighter.

I’d seen other capes on this same street, before. Assault and Battery had been talking. It was a bit of an escalation, even; there was some leeway in the tone, but there wasn’t much more.

It turned out to be the other self’s main body. It was hard to make out the details, but I could see the body’s upper body, the contours of the face. My dad.

"Where’s Rachel?" I asked. I could hear the look of surprise on his face.

His mask was transparent, but the shape of his face made it hard to make out the details. There were features where the eye sockets were closer together and the face more pronounced, where the ears were higher and the chin higher. A faint curl defined the lower half of his face, prominent where the features defined the higher part of the face.

"She disappeared with Bastard," I added.

"It’s probably better if she’s dead. It might help prevent people from making stupid mistakes like you did."

"The guy in the suit has that attitude," I said. "He’s a master manipulator. Maybe he was a master manipulator on purpose."

"And?"

"And the other Rachel might be doing me a favor here. She’s going to wind up hurting me the moment I put my knife away. It’s going to take effort. I’m aware of where you are and my general location, so that’s something. I’d say ten seconds, but I’m not going to bother with that right now."

I nodded, slowly.

"I’ve been thinking about the best way to help you. A quick and total destruction solution with some incidental collateral damage is probably best, not compromising the others. But even then, it’ll do less to break Scion’s spirit than having him kill you."

"Then I’m going to have to come up with something bigger than a quicker solution."

"Then that’s alright. It should be just a little while before you start. A week."

"Right. Then a week."

This was why the meeting was so hard. He knew more about me than I did, given his previous interactions. I could see the danger he was in, now. It would mean one less person to manage for the long-term. Which was good, on some levels, but the whole ‘reinventing’ thing wasn’t helping people stay in the know. I wasn’t interested in taking on a job as his body man, but if I had to, I was going to find another.

"You still here, though?"

"I wasn’t sleeping."

"Don’t be ridiculous," she said.

"I’ll go rest when they can’t find me. I can talk about the meeting," I said. "You should head back to your rooms. Your dad got up to speak with

======== SAMPLE 22 ========
 as part of their plan."

"It depends on what the plan is," Miss Militia said. "It’s your call."

"Thank you," I said. She gave me a look, then started back to her desk.

"I’m going to go to class. Take an early lunch break and then I’ll make myself another coffee for you, before I start digging through old emails and documents to see what came up with the Undersiders."

"I know."

"I’ll see you in class. We’ll talk again tomorrow, after."

"Let’s not talk about this," I said. I turned to leave before she could say anything more. I could see her react to that, as if I’d threatened to say something incriminating when we’d barely touched in the past half hour. I’d been hoping she’d keep herself from coming close again. It would have been so easy to get off the subject. She might even have found some solace in the fact that I’d put her on the spot, and she wouldn’t have been inclined to cooperate. Not exactly what she wanted.

Trying to rationalize the situation was like trying to rationalize an orgasm. The only difference was that my powers provided me with what I needed: a tool to help myself, as a human being, to find the solution to my problems, when I’d had them before.

My ability to empathize put me right in the middle of her range. I’d seen it firsthand. I could feel it. I was in her shoes, too. I couldn’t trust myself to not use this when the situation required it.

But I knew I wasn’t strong enough to keep my mouth shut and do what I had to. I turned the words around in my head, "If you’re going to play god and keep us from venturing down that road, you need to know I have my hands full."

Her reply was indirect. "You don’t."

"I do," I said. "I have two more powers, but they don’t really help. One's an ability I can spend a moment, a single moment, and channel everything in. Then it dissolves. Only one part works, and it’s the one that focuses your mind. It helps you remember or focus on details, while you let it go. Another is what I was running off about the other day, focusing my attention on the problem at hand. But both work. Except that one makes it so I can’t see the pieces as they emerge. It looks like I’m using my eyes and my senses, but the focus is on the individual parts of the brain. So I use that one."

"Is it related to the one you’ve always used, the one that was keeping you awake at night thinking about your situation?"

I thought of the moment things started with and after that particular trigger event. If I couldn’t identify it, even after I’d identified it, it was probably a good place to be.

"Yeah. Part of that. The other is a power, and that gives me a lot of freedom. I think it’s like a power goes off, and the focus shifts to the body part that was the trigger event, like the eyes, the brain or my hands. Even that one is like a power dissolves, if it hasn’t been used in a while. Or maybe like a power becomes aware of another power that isn’t being used, like the one I’m using now. And those two powers that aren’t being used, it’s only when I have an objective, solid basis, and I don’t use them that I get a sense of what they were all trying to achieve."

"And when you do?"

"Sometimes when I’m in a new place. I’m trying to get my mental footing, or figure out what kind of person I am because I’m in the zone. Sometimes my power takes over, or it gets quieter as I get to know it. Sometimes when I need to, it gives me a moment, a time for me to think and plan and analyze in one thing, because I can’t think otherwise. Sometimes I’ll just be in a moment where I can think more in the abstract. Sometimes I just be, you know? Thinking in general terms."

"You talk a lot."

"I’m only a small part of it. Like a little part of the puzzle to be found. But it’s all there."

"That’s vague,"

======== SAMPLE 23 ========
 as well. The rest will be made up over the next week or two."

I nodded. "I don’t really have any objections to that. I’ve already told Grue about today."

"So what happened?"

"I told him about Dinah, and he was all like, ‘this doesn’t make a lot of sense’ or something like that. I told him about that, and he said, ‘what’s important is that we listen and we don’t get distracted by that crap,’."

"What were you talking about with the plan to keep him isolated?"

"I said I’d let him know if we’re going to be alone, if he’d have a way out if things went sour or if we were attacked."

"Your plan worked." Tattletale frowned. I felt a chill. What was it?

"I don’t know how. I only told him that as an honest-to-god option."

"He could have talked to me about that."

I nodded slowly. "He did. Don’t get caught up in the details. Make sure that we get the necessary information where it counts, get it out of the way as soon as possible, and focus on the situation at hand."

"Okay."

"I’ll stop reading and check on Tattletale before making any big calls again. Okay?"

"Okay."

I stood from the chair, letting go of Grue’s hand. "Good luck."

"You need it?"

"Not exactly." He didn’t reply. With a fraction’s chance, he asked, "You said you needed a plan. What’s it going to be?"

I gave him an honest response and a short one.

He paused.

"You’re okay with this?"

"You know that, right?"

Her tone of voice differed from when I’d said it earlier. "I’ll do what I can to help you."

"Okay," I said, "Maybe if I’m talking to Tattletale, I get an unfair advantage. Let’s stick to plan A."

"I’ll take your word for it. Let’s cut loose, go on a stroll."

Our footsteps interrupted by the sound of a nearby car door opening. I could hear her mutter under her breath.

"So that’s what you really wanted?"

"Yeah." Something to do with Dinah? I hoped it wouldn’t be too much of a clue, but it didn’t matter.

Her dad entered the living room, "Mum? You look terrible."

"I’ll manage. You’ll look good, Mum."

He didn’t reply, so I turned my attention to the television.

"Let’s go."

As we walked, I could see the other parents, older than her, checking on their children. Noelle was already curled up with her mother on the couch, reclining on the end of the couch. I could see how Lise was looking worried, and my dad looked more concerned.

"Let’s go downstairs."

We reached the door, but the father on the other side opened it for us instead. We had to step in, and while my dad did as he was asked, I could see how he was frustrated.

"What the fuck? You didn’t even go down to the basement. We’re going down to the backyard."

My dad waved a hand in protest. My dad looked as though he was going to cry himself to sleep, but didn’t. "I’ll go, then."

It wasn’t the end of the world, either. In the midst of it, the TV was still playing, and a grainy CCTV footage showed Grue and Imp standing in the doorway, behind Grue’s parents, presumably waiting in a corner.

We entered the backyard, and the moment I could see it, I knew it was different. My bugs were visible, and the grass had more life to it, blooming with plants that were just beginning to flower. Grue’s mother had drawn insects from the grass and put them on her jacket to be sure they were alive, and she clutched the fabric around her upper arm.

Rachel, standing just behind her father on the other side, looked angry, but she didn’t seem to care.

Grue stood apart, his feet skidding on the grass where the pathway

======== SAMPLE 24 ========
 as one of the more powerful parahumans in the world.

Maybe the smartest cape, if I remembered right. I didn’t buy it, but I didn’t buy everything Skitter had said or done. When I’d heard her ramble about her power, I’d heard too much of what she said, and I hadn’t read the whole picture.

Either way, it sounded like Skitter was talking about herself and her power. The man she was dressing up as. If the man was a clone of her, why couldn’t she use the knife she’d used to cut off her own leg and the end of her nose?

I’d gotten to where I was today because I’d had to. I could have been on top of things, done things differently, found a way to get help without my dad doing anything about it. Instead, I stayed quiet.

I saw a man get beaten, and I found Skitter too. It caught me off guard, and when I realized what was going on, I wasn’t sure what was going to pull a button. It didn’t help that there was so little I could say to get what I wanted, other than to say, "Hi."

"Who are you?"

"I’m Skitter."

"Who’s the big hero? Whaddaya mean?"

"You’re Skitter."

"What’s the big deal?"

"The bigger the better."

"You’re being subtle. I’m sure you heard what I said, as well as your appearance, yesterday. You’re being very subtle in putting that idea into my head. Let’s not run with it. Let’s limit it."

"I didn’t say that."

"I know it’s lame, but we’re going to need your help, Skitter. And you need my help, I believe you’re able to get in touch with me from time to time. What’s going on?"

I pointed in Skitter’s general direction with my finger, to cover my mouth and eye movements. "Just want to make sure you aren’t in a position to do anything before we discuss anything that might come up, or I’ll break you."

Her head cocked to one side, she nodded in response. "Sure. Got any questions?"

"I’m worried I’m not as up to speed as you, now."

"I knew you weren’t doing so well when I came here."

"Did you know I wasn’t? No? Damn. I remember you weren’t lying."

"If you’re going to be vague and say what I remember, don’t take the full implication of what I said to you in and of itself."

"Did I mention I’m the one who came here? I was the one who had to wait."

I glanced at her. "I meant Skitter. Your ‘grievous misunderstanding’."

"I just wanted to be sure that it was all right."

"That’s all right. So Skitter… there’s something I wanted to ask."

"What’s it been?"

"That ‘thing’ is the big one. That ‘thing’ is you, and the two are fused together. It’s the reason you’re here, it’s the kind of ‘monster’ you create, and it’s a part of me. I’m being vague because I want to get to the bottom of it, but I don’t want to get in one big hurry-the-fuck-off-again fight with this monster. You’re too important."

"And you’re the same type?"

"I’m not going to get into a fight with you, because as far as I’m concerned, you’re just someone who can be ignored, left alone to deal with."

"What’s that?"

"You’re a monster, and I’m ready for you to let go. So maybe I’m right. Maybe you’re a traitor."

"No, no, no, no," I was relieved to have my voice hushed.

She was quiet for long seconds, a slow processional as she returned the favor, her arms going limp at either side of her body. I didn’t do any better,

======== SAMPLE 25 ========
 as well as any other part of my swarm. The ones that were standing here were the ones that we’d planned to target first.

"I think," Tattletale sounded a touch weary, "We need to think strategically here."

"Strategically?" I asked, "How? Why?

She didn’t respond.

That was odd, it fit with the other stuff she’d said, but it didn’t match up to what I’d read on her blog. Tattletale had written about using her power to make a trap, but I had no idea if she were using it on a larger scale, if she had the skill set required for something like that, or what the trap was supposed to be.

She was apparently okay with using her power because of the way she’d been standing with Bitch while she’d been inside the building. She hadn’t been as strong as she had been when she’d been outside, but she’d somehow pulled it together into the killer instinct that it showed, even if she’d clearly been bruised as a result.

Maybe she’d used it because it served a purpose. I wasn’t sure how much she’d intended for it to serve that purpose and how much she’d planned to do it anyway.

"Why?" I asked, "Because I need you here? I’m worried the Endbringers might pull something if I leave again. Or vice versa. Because I feel like it hurts them more if I keep you."

"I’m not going to try to communicate with them again," she said, "Just... be my guest."

"Me?"

"You feel the same way I do. You know you’re dangerous, right? Right?"

"I know."

"And so I’ve done the same thing and gone down different paths. If you’ll excuse me –"

"No need to thank me. This is my territory."

I nodded.

"We just want to make sure you’re okay," she said, "I can come by if you need it."

"Okay. Whatever."

I walked around to the side of the building, and she followed.

In the distance, I could see Defiant approaching a local megacorporation. It was his usual routine, with him arriving at an international conference or gathering by way of a convoy or fleet of vehicles. This was a convoy of air conditioned jeeps, complete with a contingent of PRT troopers on the roof. Only Defiant was in civilian clothes. He was not to be messed with.

He looked forward and noted the crowd of reporters. He saw one girl at the front line, giving me a hand in a similar vein to how I was giving Bitch a hand in keeping the dogs calm and comfortable.

Was she still with them?

"I’d be remiss if I weren’t toting this along for some reason."

"I’ll be disappointed if you don’t get something out of it. Let’s go."

It was a while before we got out of the jeep, and the group moved in. They climbed down before we were halfway down the alley.

"This way," Defiant said.

"This way," I said, "Let’s walk."

We walked briskly towards a building with a large billboard on the side of it. From a distance, we could see the face of a smiling woman in an alluring blue and green dress, holding a child in her arms. The words ‘Paradise Child’ were scrawled across her face.

"Where are we going?" I asked of the woman.

"You can’t say. We’re going to wait for her."

"I know. The other two are probably coming too, judging from what I saw and hear."

"And they know? You mean we don’t have to use their help?"

He didn’t. "What do you mean?"

I drew out the word, "You mean it’s a trap."

He nodded, "No."

He’s talking like he wants to help, I thought.

"If you were to leave and come back and see what I’m talking about, would you get upset? Or would your immediate sense of security override that urge?"

"I wouldn’t be the type to use those kinds of options," he told her.

"So it comes down to this," I said. "You say that’s the case