======== SAMPLE 1 ======== ed her face against the hood of my mask. It was something I’d done a few times, back in the day. The effect was like a floodlight, with the shadows and differences that make up the image appearing brighter or darker on the retina of the viewer, depending on the focal point they were looking at. You wouldn’t be able to see the difference in a dark room, but you could see differences on the retina of someone who was lying down or faking it. It was only when I applied it to more than one target that I found out how much it affected me. Tagg hadn’t liked it. At first. At the suggestion of some PRT lieutenant, the head of the PRT force was put in solitary. After a year and a half of being on the fringe of the system, without any real responsibilities, with no way to get things resolved, Tagg decided it was a good idea to try. They gave him a new role, gave him powers so he could use them. No powers without Tagg. I saw what happened the fourth time he used his power. He was in a public building with more reporters than I was, and he’d reached into his pocket and ejected a vial. The liquid inside was dark blue, and the contents spilled forth into the lobby like water off a roof. It hadn’t worked the first time, and I felt a pit swell in my stomach, where my body felt the gale, but I wasn’t feeling any better as it got worse. He reached into his belt and shoved a vial into one of his padded pockets. "Seems like we got ahead of you there. Let me see… oh." He tapped a button, then hit a key with the back of one hand, to mimic what the vial might do. With none of the residual effect, it produced some effect only the vial wearer could achieve. The effect produced shadows. The shadows extended over the floor, some landing directly on the assembled press of reporters. One landed in front of me, caught me off guard and flew in a straight line in the general direction of my face, disappearing into my mask. The second I caught on to what it was, I backed off. Not for the others. I ran as wide as I could possibly run, feeling my legs kick with the effort. At the ready, Tagg pulled the vial into one of his padded vehicles and threw it across the lobby, a blur of green light and glowing blur of a liquid on a far, far red sky above. It caught a car that was backing out of a doorway and rolled, splashing a half dozen or so reporters. It caught one that was sitting in the far left corner of the room at the far side of the street, tipped over backwards and vanished amid a plumes of smoke and debris. The last one was caught mid-leap. He was already stumbling, and the crash carried him further than I might have expected. A small fraction of the vial’s surface tension applied, and I was thrown into the crowd just to his left, away from the rest of the mass of people. He cast a moment of careful thought before pausing, taking in a deep breath. Was there any chance I’d be in his custody for an extended length of time? There was a chance, but it didn’t seem so in the grand scheme of it. "You escaped," Tagg said, and his voice was hard. "We don’t know you’re telling the truth. We need all the information we can get on you, on your methods, our methods and your enemies, while we’re in transit." As if to compensate, my bugs attacked Tagg, filling his field of vision, leaving him blind and deaf as he struggled to maintain grip on his weapon. He started making a steady, muffled hissing noise, the steady, agonizing sound of his muscles shifting under his control. "You’ll be moved to solitary, unless you cooperate," Mr. Calle said. "You’ll undergo security checks and be provided with video cameras." That broke the spell. "Thank you for the warning. I will, except this video will be destroyed if you let it play." "Is this offer true? Or is this plea bargaining?" Tagg paused, as if checking for threats. When Calle didn’t move, he spoke, "I would like to find a suitable individual to take my place." "Why should I work for you? The deal you made with Defiant was good. You would work for us because you wanted it. You told me you were doing one favor. A favor. A favor you performed for others." "Yes." " ======== SAMPLE 2 ======== ed with a white sheet like a hospital gown. I was aware that they were looking at me a lot. "I’m sorry if I sounded negative," I said, my voice flat. "No, it’s fine," Grue said. When I opened my mouth to speak again, I found my voice hard. "It’s not. It’s not your fault." "Okay," he said. It wasn’t me who said it, or anyone else speaking in my ear, but Grue did. It was my turn to crack up. Not a good day. "I think it’s time you found out what you made me into. I’m glad to be able to help, Grue, but it’s pretty amazing what you’ve done." I laughed, tucking the envelope into one corner to hide the rest from view. "Skitter, I’m here. I’m kind of a social junkie, like how a guy might be, but I’m doing more to get to know girls and improve my skills than anything else." I shook my head, but I didn’t have the heart to turn around back and forth, so I stuck my arms through the fabric of his jackets, folded them and tucked them against my chest. "I’m here to help, Weaver," Grue said. "Sorry if that makes me sound too eager to hand you off to the heroes." "Do it," I said. "We’re teaming up." "You’re not a lot of friends, but do have those two things in common?" "Yeah." "It’s cool," he said. He pulled on a sweatshirt and pants to get close enough to me to pull my arms through the fabric of his jackets and pull my legs up against my chest. I tried to convince myself he was joking, but he didn’t seem to get it. "Let’s go," I said. I didn’t trust the pull of his belt or the traction of my armor, and I wasn’t brave enough to get up and leave with him. I had to fight keeping the drawbridge open and the chain of the ladder behind me. "Taylor," Grue said, his voice quiet. "What?" He didn’t respond. "You’ve talked about helping me. About…" He said something else. Something I couldn’t make out as darkness and silence overtook us for the third straight time. "You’re alright," I said. He shook his head a little, then turned to my dad. "The others. They’ll want to see this. You can handle something like that." "I can," I said. He reached behind his back, and I raised my hand. He gripped it firmly. Our darkness and silence was suffocating. It took me a second to realize what was going on, to decide what was the worst thing I could do for my dad. The fact that Grue knew about my back issues. It had been a topic of discussion before I joined the group. I wasn’t sure what I was willing to do about it, but I couldn’t trust my dad. "I’ll manage," Grue said, offering little in the way of assurance. It was a decision I wasn’t willing to make. Then again, there was always the chance that my dad might not want me, that I’d escape to take his eyes off the situation. "You want us to take care of you?" I asked. "Because that’s what you wanted." "Because I’m with you." I nodded, then glanced at Grue. He was relaxed, unconcerned at least part of the time. I wondered if he felt the same way about me. Except there was another consideration that I hadn’t mentioned, one that had nothing to do with the person I was or wasn’t: our group needed his help. I couldn’t say if I was happy or unhappier without admitting what I felt I wanted to say. ■ Friday, June 12th, tenth year, present Grue woke me from a year of slumber. Noelle, Brian and me lay on the couch in the living room of my apartment building, lit from within. I was silent, my eyes still watching the television. Two pieces of equipment that had been hooked into my power supply when we first got our powers ======== SAMPLE 3 ======== ed on a desk so she would be able to stand straight, and had a small box of papers arranged on the table beside her. Each page had an exacting black-and-white camera image of a police car, a detective standing in front of one, and a yellow crime scene tape. "She’s been here just a little while," Imp said, "I could figure it out if I looked." "You don’t need to look," Tattletale said. "It’s one of her things." Imp glanced at Tattletale. Tattletale said, "That’s one case we’re missing out on. When did she get these videos?" "Noted," she replied, looking out the window for a moment. Then she looked back at the car, "And this is how it could end," she finished. "If I’d had any doubt as to what she could do, I only needed to look at the way things were unfolding. It isn’t a compliment." "No?" Grue asked. "I didn’t expect you to know this." "It’s fine," Grue stepped over to the window once more. I didn’t step out of the way. "I didn’t know you had this in mind," Imp said. I didn’t move, but I didn’t get a chance to reply. With one hand, I pressed the button on the window, hoping to get a better view of the scene outside. That had turned out to be the point that turned out to be where we were all first and foremost in view. In the instant we were out of sight, I sent a wave of bugs across the street and toward the car on the other side. The bugs stopped when they reached Tattletale’s feet. She was holding the box, and a pair of hands settled around it, tentatively gripping the handle, making sure it wouldn’t move or tilt. She didn’t move with them. Her head hung down, her attention still on the car. "You okay?" Grue asked. "Been a bad few minutes," Tattletale said. She reached into the box that she’d been holding and retrieved a cellphone. "Been a while since we’ve talked like this," I said. "We’ve gone places," Tattletale commented. "And I’ve always been open about that. There‘s not really any warning, so you kinda get free passes when people are in danger or you’re in a situation like this, where you really need to talk." "I understand if that’s not easy to get," I said. "I wasn’t prepared for you to take me up on this." "Good," Tattletale said. Not looking directly at me, she glanced at the detective that was giving her a hand job, "I hope?" "I can’t take you to the hospital," I said. "You have a pulse?" Tattletale asked. I shook my head slowly. No pulse. "You have air?" No air. "Can you move?" she asked. "I can move. Just- I can move the bugs." "How fast?" "Quickest way to go to the hospital, fast." "And I go back to the city first," I added. "You could wait." "Thank you." "You can ask me anything," I said. "Please. Please." Tattletale glanced at Grue, and I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t about to say ‘Fuck off’ or’shut up’ or any of that. "Please," I repeated myself. "Don’t ask." "Are you okay?" Tattletale asked me. I shook my head. "No. Pain in my ribs, but I’m alright." "Can you use your power?" Tattletale asked me. "I’ve had enough damage," I said. I tried to think. I managed an answer before I started to get motionless. The way things had gone, I’d asked Bitch to break Taylor’s arm. I wanted to do something similar for Armsmaster. No use. I shook my head. "We’ll manage," she said. "We’ll manage. You know how hard it is for us to get help. I’m not saying you won’t, but ======== SAMPLE 4 ======== ed her eyes up at him, her expression calm, unreadable. "They don’t even know," he said. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "The PRT has a rule. We cannot accept donations from nonhumans. Nonhumans should not be granted powers or increased abilities." "So the Nine get to steal people’s powers. So why are you telling me this?" "Capes are not granted powers, nonhumans are. Nonhumans are weaker, slower, weaker overall. You have to understand how much we rely on the cape-business." "They’re not doing us any favors," the Doctor said. "I know." "We know about the Undersiders, because we followed them. But why not us?" she asked. He sighed. "It’s a shame. But there’s no other useful, noncapes to tell you, except the ones we just mentioned. I can’t understand it myself. It doesn’t sit right." "You’ve probably figured it out, now." "If you’d asked me that a few weeks ago, I probably would have told you," he said. "And now you’re trying to find a non-cape to fill your shoes," she said, not even glancing at him. "Just like you were saying before, there’s no useful non-capes, nonhumans to tell you." "There are a few," he answered. "The one-and-a-half of them that I had access to at the meeting, and I can help with them. I can help with Bonesaw, with Mannequin. I can’t do a lot more than that… but I can help with Crawler." "I don’t think you can." He didn’t even need to look at her to tell she was watching him. "No. But I can help you find more information. I can’t do anything beyond what we just talked about, with Cauldron’s patients." "I understand. Can you not make promises you can't keep?" "I’m not a particularly good liar. I don’t lie as well as I should. I wasn’t there, I’m telling the truth, I don’t leave any ground for you to dispute. If there’s more… well, I’m not good with names, so you’ll have to do search with me. The first thing I do when I get inside is go to the stairwell before the door, on the second floor, above the door. Once I’m there, I start walking up until we meet face to face. There are people sleeping on the ground floor as well. People’s noses are sharp. I stay behind to keep an eye on them." "I’m… not a particularly good listener, either. If I’m going to say something, I have to ask first, and I want to hear the answer. This door looks like it’s been left unlocked." "You’re not going to try to open that?" "I know. There’s no point. But I promise you, it won’t be open. Something inscrutable-" She was too slow. He saw her looking at him. She was still inside the car. "Sorry," he hurried to get up to his feet, and began walking towards the door. "You’re being an asshole," the Doctor said. "If that’s the case… we need to talk in a private place," the Doctor said. "I’m not making friends with words," he said. "I’m… not being a teammate, even." "I know." ■ June 24th, 2013 "Cape," the Doctor said. "We’re sorry, but we need to get more information on your situation. We’ve been unable to reach you for some time, but if you were willing to take my name, we’d be able to make contact with your friends, family and other contacts." "No." "What other cape?" "Nobody. We can’t simply let you go. We have to use the fact that you tried to contact us to make sure this isn’t a trap. We’ve had to cancel some events with you because of your poor performance this past year." "Not canceling them again." "It’s a minor thing, but we ======== SAMPLE 5 ======== ed over it. "Satisfactory," Grue said. "Thank you." I let the bugs flow out of my mouth to join the others, and I moved just to the side of the table so my head was in position. Grue watched as I got the ball of thread between my lips, tugged. She looked at Grue, and her head dropped a fraction. Her eyes looked at me, and her eyelids moved down. Her face twisted into a scowl as she stared at Regent. Not that I had really thought she was a bad person. "She was lying," Regent commented, in his eerie, quiet voice. "If it was up to me, I’d make her come here and torture her for the data. I’d leave her soaked in piss and shit for twenty minutes. Then I’d make her come here and tear up the rest of her clothes so she couldn’t take them off while I waited." "That’s not what I said," Grue said. "It was me. I’m sorry," I told him. Grue looked at the two of them, and for an instant, I thought he was going to say ‘yes’ again. Then he spoke in a very unenthusiastic tone, "I’d kill you." "If it were up to me-" "If it were up to me, I’d kill you," he finished for good measure. "No!" the first girl said, her voice quiet. The woman pushed the table so she was sitting down a few feet in front of Grue, her back to the girl. When Grue was a few steps away from the door, she said, in a very small voice, "I just-" The whole house was silent, stunned, for a moment. I saw the woman’s eyes darting in a little to look at the boy and girl with a minute to spare. Grue and Tattletale had been the ones to get in the way, had been the ones to push back, been the ones to pull away, making escape unnecessary. I wasn’t one to show weakness, and neither was Tattletale, but there were more of us here, and I didn’t have any reason to bend the rules. "If you’d like," Grue murmured in my ear, as he took a seat at the little table, with his feet resting on it. I’d pushed Regent and I too far. I needed to trust my power and the others, even if it hurt to rely on them I took another breath, then opened the curtain, "What happened?" There were too many faces; no, there weren’t enough to be able to cover them all, and I didn’t want to give away their identities. The group that came through the curtain first wasn’t nearly as numerous as Grue’s group. Tattletale was first out the door. He opened the curtain. "He wants me to come." Tattletale looked at us. "Just us," Grue said. There were nods from the others. Grue held the door open for Tattletale, with Regent and I following. Tattletale opened the curtain, "The Undersiders and Travelers have made their intentions clear. Undersiders: We’ll make no demands or demands of you, Undersiders. Travelers-" The crowd parted. "I don’t see any trouble," Tattletale said. She glanced at Grue. "Undersiders and Travelers? They weren’t mentioned among the groups that they’re leaving behind." "It’s okay. Maybe we shouldn’t have brought it up because-" "They already asked for your help. You were there. I was part of the explanation they gave for why they were interested in the offer," Grue finished for her. He looked at me. "It was a good move on their part." "I think they’re on the same page," I said. "There’s no need to worry. If you’re willing, I can give you an explanation of what’s going on, if we’ve got a minute." "As long as you let us out," Grue said. "You’re saying we’re fucking around?" Trickster asked. "Just let them out. If they ask for help in your territory, they’ll get the option of you using ======== SAMPLE 6 ======== ed to his chest, and an unconscious Tattletale lay on the floor in front of him with a spray of vomit spilling from howling, slurred throats. Parian hurried over to where Tattletale was. She saw the vomit and stopped it, wiped the vomit from the face of one of the sleeping patients. "We can’t let Kaiser attack us tonight," Parian said. "We’ve been through enough battles." "It’s okay. This is your territory" the boy who talked to the boy with no costume said. Parian sighed. "It’s Kaiser’s territory" the boy repeated. In desperation, Parian called upon her power. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to Kaiser. She wanted to help the people of New Delhi, to help Sundancer and Skitter, and maybe, just maybe, to save Dinah. But that wasn’t enough, not with Kaiser trying to seize everything here. And now she’d have to face these people on her own. "This is our territory," the boy repeated. "Do you recognize this?" Parian stared the boy down. "Do you even recognize that we control this area?" "No," the boy replied. He stood, shaking his head. "This area is your home. This is your land, and you have the right to use it to help your people. You have the right to pat your children to sleep at night. You have the right to drink from the fountains and bathe your children. You have the right to sleep on the benches and flowers that adorn the walls of this city." "That’s not—" the boy started to apologize, faltering. "That’s not you," Parian said. "That’s us," the boy repeated. "We have been through too much, done too much. This is us." "We’re sorry, but we cannot let him get this far," the boy with the skull mask said. "Do you understand?" Parian asked. The boy with the skull mask only stared, his gaze penetrating through the wall of flowers, revealing a wall of black and green tatters, covering every surface. "Skitter, I-" "This is my house," the girl with the petals said. "This is mine," Parian repeated. The girl with the petals was crying, and the boy with the skull mask was smiling, eyes wide. She stopped, turning to the boy with the cross on his forehead. "Can you go home?" The boy shook his head. "How do you feel?" The boy looked her way. "I feel sad," Parian said. His eyes moved to the wall where the injured were being treated. "Why?" "Because I was going to leave." He pointed at his sister, who was cradling a bloody arm. "I’m going to come after her. I’ll beat her, just to make sure." She looked at Sundancer, who shook his head. "I’m sure she knows," Parian said. "So am I," Sundancer said. "Can you get your head together and come with me?" Parian asked. Sundancer nodded. "I can." "I’d like you to come with me," Parian said. Her tone was measured, calm. "But I’m going to need help getting-" "Squad five, two," the number man said. Parian turned. She saw a group of young heroes standing at the doorway. "We know where they are," Parian said. "Tattletale and I are going to use the teleportation device on the phone." ■ "You’re going to die of grief," Rachel said, when she felt the elevator doors open. "You’ll choke on your grief and you’ll drown in your own filth." "I’d rather drown than lose anyone in my shoes," Noelle said. She was sitting in an empty chair, leaning back against the wall beside the front of the truck, her eyes cast downward. "But what if it doesn’t work?" She had seen enough funerals to know that saying people died like that was usually an insult. It could have been any number of things – Rachel had died of a bad infection, her mom had died of anorexia- but when she’d seen these two die together, it had sounded eerily like any death – their grief had been raw, unbridled and ======== SAMPLE 7 ======== ed my head. When my vision wavered and I realized I hadn’t slept, I was glad for the cover of the haze that was obscuring the scene. I was also glad for my phone. I would text Brockton Bay residents to inform them of the evacuation. "Help is on the way, but I need to be there for two reasons," Rachel said. I looked out to where the column of smoke was approaching the city limits. I didn’t think it was really going any further than it was, but as far as I was aware, there were absolutely no other cities that had been evacuated by this sort of thing. Rachel was saying more as she climbed to her feet, taking a long draw from the lighter that hung around her neck. The smoke was making a steady, low roar into the city limits. It would be deafening if it wasn’t muffling it. "That’s great!" Tattletale called out, from the sidelines. "Let me down-" Tattletale was already out of the way. Rachel hopped off Bastard where her feet left more room to stand, then leaned over the railing, reaching for Tattletale. Before she could pull the extension cord free of Bastard’s neck, she lost the grip and let go, dropping the end of the cord in the water. The water rushed and caught her as she tried to climb over it to get to a place where she had access to the stairs. Bitch had made her way down the hill to me, and was halfway down when Bitch caught sight of us. She didn’t look like she would be climbing, but she clearly couldn’t give a fuck. Her eyes were on the ground, and her mouth moved to catch a wave that was coming, and she nearly fell. I had to climb on top of her to get to a place where I could help her. She was shoving my way through the rubble, and my plan just wasn’t carrying to the next step. The next step was getting her down. We’d reached Kaiser’s fallen base of operations by howling in pain and fear, but it was occupied by the last members of the Protectorate. The ones that would remain after Scion’s body disappeared into Lung’s twisted laboratory instead of taking the fall himself. A building we’d just passed. Lung’s victims had included someone who I knew was Lung’s cousin. A man we’d barely seen. A man who’d been mutilated, with the contents of his stomach found with his eyes nearly rolled up into his skull. Tattletale was saying something to the man who’d collapsed. I couldn’t be sure. A lot had happened. Just like Kaiser, the leader of the local Supremacy who’d died when the building had toppled, one of Sundancer’s people. The Mayor who’d been murdered in the same fashion the Sundancer of the morning had been. The ones who’d tried to bring the city back. It was all very symbolic, putting the city back together again after so long from the point where Lung had run the city in his maniacal, relentless, ever-shifting nightmare. He had the ability to reshape it, with a single trigger event, and there wasn’t a trace of him in the area. There was a new Sundancer with her powers, with her own dark, twisted interpretation of what we might call the ‘good’ end of the spectrum. She was strong enough to tear through a two-story building in one swing. I wondered if she’d get to use the power on someone in this ‘cool’ end of the spectrum. Rachel and Bitch were in the other wing of Kaiser’s. I was surprised they were. I had been waiting as far as I could from the two groups, while knowing just where we could find them. That, and thinking it would be kind of smart. The Protectorate were keeping to a pretty strict set of rules. No fighting or fighting only means, no going above or below the law. Everyone had to obey the laws, whatever they were. We were good around kids, if not necessarily cooperative and merciful in some cases. Good parents, in turn. We were good if we’d just stayed out of the way while watching our sons were hunted like animals were. Tattletale could go out on patrol, and I wouldn’t have faulted her for following the orders. But that was only part of it. The more blatant the defiance, the less serious we were about wanting to obey the law and have the Protectorate protect us. If we didn’ ======== SAMPLE 8 ======== ed down into the floor beneath her. It’s more comfortable this way, she thought. Good enough. She’d been looking forward a ways, searching for her target. She saw her target waiting for her in the midst of the crowd. The person with the flame powers. Not that it mattered. In a matter of seconds, her target was burning. Not to the point that she could even tell it wasn’t a man trapped beneath a body of water. More than any of the others, she was struck with the ferocity of the flame, which was burned right through her clothing. Her hair was melted away, her skin crusted with a black powder. Her target was kneeling, but that wasn’t the point. His hands were clasped behind his back, as if frozen in position. "What the hell is she doing? Why do you…?" Alexandria began. "You would’ve killed me if you had gotten that close." "You’re talking like you could have killed me." Alexandria closed her eyes. She could see herself in the crowd that had gathered around. There were others who could have killed her; others who would have killed others if it wouldn’t have taken so damn long to get here. "I’m… I’m so, so sorry. I was ready." "Fuck me. You could have killed me years ago." "You could have killed me even if things were completely different." "And you didn’t. You played around, but I let that guy go." The fire raged a second longer. "What…" Alexandria started to speak, as if she couldn’t believe the fire was still moving forward, its existence in the aftermath of burning Alexandria. Her words were a pause. "What the fuck!?" Alexandria shouted the word, then stopped mid-sentence. "You’re trying to kill me? You’re trying to kill me!? You’re… no. You’re not. You’re…" Alexandria realized she’d stopped speaking and that the flames surrounding her were melting away. She was moving on the spot, stepping around the back of the crowd. Alexandria used a force of will to keep herself from backing away as quickly as she might have otherwise. It took time for them to realize she wasn’t on their side. She had a measure of empathy, she knew there were rules, things she could do better, but she’d never fully internalized that part of her personality was a double edged sword. Alexandria felt as though her hand curled into a fist. Her eyes roved over the crowd, trying and failing to focus on someone. The flame boy, who had appeared in the center of the crowd to distract. The crowd had formed a line behind him and began to retreat. His power burned, and the first person was standing in the middle of a short line, waving at her like she was crazy. She couldn’t move right, couldn’t go anything beyond the front lines of an army, but the flames around her were more like a fire hose than a tent. As others broke away from her group, she felt a flare of anger and dashed words at them. There were others beside the fringe of her vision. When she focused it, she saw only a blur. The line was still standing. But other people were stepping around them, keeping them from keeping Alexandria and her friends in melee, from making it hard to retreat and keep retreating. She could see, but wasn’t aware of the body in the water, behind her. She hadn’t realized she’d been there, in the middle of the water. What had she seen? What had this crowd been talking about? The crowd, Alexandria knew, was talking about her. About her powers. They were talking about her status, about which one of her teammates had the greatest potential, whether the girl deserved her powers, what she could have done differently, many times over, and they were angry that she wasn’t on board. Alexandria knew some of the heroes were taking time to listen, because they were angry. Her teammates, she suspected, had taken time to think and talk because they were in this for a long, long time. Because there wasn’t time to talk about the fight between the good guys and the bad, Alexandria suspected, with all the time and money to devote to other things. With the crowd, she had to keep moving, keep from bumping into one another, or bumping into the crowd around her. She’d done what she could. The only ones who would be standing ======== SAMPLE 9 ======== ed it. "That’s all that’s required for me to let you go, and to let my soldiers deal with you, here." "That’s just as well," she replied, backing up a bit. "It would be a shame to let you go, to be wasting your time." I sighed, and the lines of pain that were tearing through me didn’t go away. My vision swam. I pushed one spider off my foot and held it in one hand. I took a deep breath. "The Nine would make you feel so much better, if you were watching them," she told me. "But you’re not." Maybe watching would make me feel better, but I didn’t feel anything in the way of emotions from her. I looked at her. I glanced at the others, but the answers she was offering were too numerous and indefinite to process in my attention span. All around us, the Nine were fighting, and they weren’t doing it with Tecton or Chevalier there to give support. The woman that Taylor had brought in spoke again. "We need to do something. This is our only option." What could we do? There were no easy answers. My mind whirled. I could imagine Sophia’s face in the video, the woman explaining what she’d gotten up to, how she’d gotten these people ‘in’ as many minutes, explaining how they’d been waiting patiently for over a minute. There was only one thing for me to do. I had to do something. I picked up the spider and tugged on the trigger. "This will only be successful if we get our answers," Defiant said. "We can’t get our answers unless we see some kind of reaction from the Nine," Miss Militia said. "There’s nothing we can do about it," I said. "We just need to get the Nine inside," Tecton said. My bugs sensed some movement. The creature was approaching a corner. I ordered my bugs to move. "We were just going to have to fight our way through," I said. "We’re not," Tecton replied. "What?" "We can’t fight until we hear from the Nine," I stated. A movement. A snake with the lower body of a man and a serpent with the face appeared in front of the group. It wasn’t perfect. There was still greenery, but it was not where the Nine would be. It was still man. The creature was dressed in a white form with cloth, and there were other people in white and other things in the surrounding woods, including a number I couldn’t make out. The interior seemed to open up as the creature closed the distance, including branches and the foundations of buildings, the pavement and the banks of the canal. "Can we cut it out?" Tecton asked. "We’re just the same as before," I said. "We were just in the right place at the right time." And now that we’re fighting the Nine, I realized, we should have been in the right place at the wrong time. It was a good thing that I’d not been in the wrong place at the right time. This was easily my second most troublesome aspect of the Endbringer situation. I turned to offer Tecton a hand, but he turned away, avoiding my voice. This is my territory? "Yes," I said. "And you’re not going to take them hostage?" "I don’t trust you," I said. "We were just going to negotiate. We’re going to fight," I said. "With a hostage." The creature approached closer. Its feet found mine. It reached out and touched my arm, but I jerked to the side, pulling my arm back. The creature was panting now, almost a runner. Tecton moved one hand into Tecton’s cupped armpit, roughly. Imp was next to Tecton, kneeling, one arm pressing against him. "What are you doing?" Taulter asked. "Shoving us out of the way. We can’t go in." He was doing it with his power, of course. I’d expected the others to come to their senses, to run, but they didn’t. Tecton glanced at me, then shook his head, as if I were a part of that. ======== SAMPLE 10 ======== ed," he said, frowning. "What?" I asked. "They won’t want you back. It’ll put you out of commission, won’t let you be available for future missions." "The public’s getting worse," I said, not taking my eyes off him. He turned away from me, but he lingered. I couldn’t understand him. "Hey," I said, looking to the boy. "Hey, little boy. Why are you standing there?" He lowered his head, his face hidden behind his mask, which was a series of filters and indentations designed to make his face more obscured, obscured again. "I was just talking to you for a little while," I said. "I was just thinking, shit, that was creepy, you know that vibe?" "Yeah," he replied. "Don’t go anywhere, okay? That’s our business here. Okay?" He turned away, leaving the rest of us to talk in silence. "How’s Sophia?" "Not the most pleasant of interactions, actually. But we can’t really complain," he said, his voice quiet. Sophia looked as though she’d been slapped. Her long blond hair was tangled in two braids, one over the other, and she was heavily tattooed. Her face was fixed in one of those smug expression identical to the image she wore just a little too often, her mouth agape, her fingers drawn to the corners of eye sockets so they didn’t match the frames of her mouth. There were lines criss-crossing her face, from brow to chin, some lighter on the darker skin on her cheekbones, showing a dramatic break in expressions. It was ironic in a way, considering how easily she could look at her peers and think, ‘Oh snap, I’ve got that look in my eye, I get that scowl. She’s smart, but she’s a coward, a bad girl." "I’m not saying I’m a bad girl." "I’m talking about the fact that she was the only one to even look at me, now. The fact that she’s scared, alright? She’s not going to be brave in the future. If what she said about the city was true, the Endbringers are right. We all live in this city. People we love hate us in turns. The world’s smaller than our city, smaller, not so nice," Sophia said. She tapped her pinkie with one finger, where it was high on the underside of her finger. The sound of the raised finger on the tip of the other finger was almost imperceptible. "I could say I wouldn’t leave, but if I was talking about the fact that I didn’t want her to leave her home and her life, Sophia-" Sophia extended her pinkie extended finger. "No. I’d rather stay with you." "Okay. We need to focus on our enemy. Scion’s a bully." "Oh yeah," Sophia said. She tapped the very edge of the upper half of the upper half of her face, "Scion is an asshole, but you can’t say that to an adult." "I- You…" Sophia made a short, sharp sound, "I won’t lie, the only time I’ve really had good at first impression of someone was when I was in the military. And that sucked." "So what happened was-" "I was a coward," Sophia said. "I was always a loner, I’d say that even if I was in the Birdcage. I’d look back and see the stupidest things I did were actually the best things ever. Because they made me feel good, they made others feel better, and that’s all I ever cared about." "I’m… I’d say I’ve had my worst first impression of anyone on the other side of the glass. But I’m not someone who backs down." "She’s your friend?" It took Sophia a second to wrap her head around the fact that everyone was looking at her, and the response from her group was a bit more measured than the last. "Yeah. I’m… I’m not someone who backs down," Sophia said. Her voice was quiet, her hand pressed to her side, her shoulders contorting as if she were trying to keep balance at the peak of a three-story fall, as if a ======== SAMPLE 11 ======== ed off while you were in the trees," Defiant said. "You’re still out there with the Undersiders." "I’ve still got a good few hours before I need to find some place to hide," Tattletale said. "I don’t want you to stay," Defiant said. "Give my guys a chance to catch up." It broke Tattletale’s heart to let them know it, but she had to admit she could make him choose. "We need to take the money," Tattletale said. "If we do this, if we offer a helping hand." "We should thank her," I said. "She’s done a lot in the past few hours. She’s done a lot for us, and she’s done a lot more, if we’re not forgetting how," Tattletale said. "We deserve thanks. Not just for the fight, but for the work we’ve been putting in." "But this is only a small contribution." "She’s done a lot." I could see Defiant’s expression change in response. "We should thank her," I said. "We shouldn’t forget how." "You’d think we could have," Tattletale said, ignoring the others. "She tried her hardest, and we would have lost if we couldn’t have stood up for ourselves." "Yeah," I said, just under my breath. "I’ve been here before," Defiant said. "And while I may stand by what her team has been trying to do, I have to think this is something on a whole different scale." "I don’t disagree," Tattletale said. "This isn’t just about people. This is about the status quo. Everyone’s fighting to survive. And you said the Undersiders were a big help, didn’t you? And if I’m wrong, and the Undersiders were a big hindrance, what does that tell the people on the other side of things? They’ll be even more isolated." "And they’re not doing very well," Tattletale said. "The worst they can do is be heroes. Then the world they hoped to establish ends in flames. Can they do a little damage? Yes. Can they make a little splash? Yes. But that’s not a reason to give up, not by a long stretch. That’s why they’re doing this." "They’re trying," Defiant said. "We’re the only other cape team with a real chance at getting out of this," Lung said. "They want our help. Even if we can’t do anything in terms of actual fighting, they want us on the team." "Then good riddance to them," Lung said. He looked skyward. "To this team. As the Undersiders, we’re leaving. And while we’re gone, we’re… well, more Undersiding." "If we’re leaving, are we leaving in good conscience?" I asked. Lung shook his head, "No. Our conscience is on the line. Forcing the matter is futile. They’ll find out soon enough. But I doubt it. We can’t let that be the case." "And what happens after we leave?" Grue asked. "What’s the point of staying?" "The world ends, and man gets his revenge," Tattletale said. "Not on this planet, in a nutshell, but in a big, profound way. And it wouldn’t be good if we left that to our own devices. It would be too predictable, too tied into the pattern that’s been set. We’re already here, we’re watching. There’s nothing more to be done. We’ve started to run out of options." "To avoid a catastrophe," Rachel said, "We’re not going to stop until we’re sure it happened or we could get out of that situation." "But there’s other means we can get into," I said. "We could offer our world, whatever happens." "What about the Protectorate?" Grue asked. "The Protectorate, I’m going to go by," I told him. "When we talk about the end of the world," I pointed at the Undersiders, "Most of us here aren’t talking about leaving. We� ======== SAMPLE 12 ======== ed. Or maybe I was just imagining him. Or maybe I deserved his treatment, because he hadn’t treated me fairly. I was at the mercy of three of Über’s most hated and feared rivals and three of the people who hated him the most. "I’m not sure I understand," the doctor said. "There’s a middle ground, there," another doctor said. I could sense people moving around us. The doctor was keeping in an open-mouthed position, but everyone else was moving out of the way, to give us room to exit and rejoin the crowd. Bitch and Regent weren’t moving either, and Bitch and I fell in step behind them. "I just want to take my first breath of breath after being brainwashed," Bitch growled the words, behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw me, behind me. "I’m not that bad at dealing with people." "You should try." "What’s the point?" she asked, her expression hard. "Just trying, I don’t follow. I don’t think I ever really made peace with what life was. I never felt like I belonged here." "Maybe you did, but you didn’t fully realize what you were missing." She looked between me and me, and I felt a pang of sympathy. She’s not the type to appreciate that a child isn’t as smart as they claim. Or maybe it’s the opposite: a toddler or a teenager isn’t that interested in learning. This is their reality, their means of coping. One word and everything falls apart. "Maybe you were on a road to figuring things out, and you realized you were still stuck in that headspace you had been in, or you realized you’d been this asshole all along." "Maybe," she said. "I can be tough around people, can’t I!?" Bastard growled. I didn’t see her reacting the second he spoke. I winced. I turned around to see Bitch leaning close to me and glaring at Bastard. "I always hated that you had that kid in your life question on the test!" she hissed the words. She turned to me, spat the words around her mouth, as they slid down the side of her throat. Bastard whined, his snarls making as much noise as a child’s as he barked, "You fucked with me from the beginning! I didn’t even know you were trying to get me into the ABB! I thought you were trying to help in the Empire!" "Whatever," I said. Bastard growled at her, hard. "Whatever." "It’s not you." "It’s-" "You bastard!" He growled more. His front claws cracked the wood of the door. "Get him on the fucking door!" "I hate that you hate me," I hissed. She started forward, biting her lips. I hurried to catch up to her. "I said you could get as drunk as you wanted," Bitch said, after I’d caught up. "Go. Away from my baby, okay? Go. And you can make my cousin watch!" I felt a flush run down the backs of my neck and chest. Even Bastard was staring. Bastard, in particular, was shining. He was bright, his bright crimson skin a deep red, his massive clawtips glowing a bright yellow. His otherworldly brown hair made him look like a cross between a bat and a lion, with a longer spine and a broad, human-shaped snout. He stood defiantly tall as he stalked toward me, and I had to hide my own surprise that he was even approaching. "Go!" A dozen voices, all at once. I made my way to the door. "How did you know I was coming!?" Bitch shouted. "Don’t ask," the girl at the door ordered us, as she opened the door. "Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!" Grue hissed through his half-silence. He was so loud he shook the entire building. As Bitch made her way to the door, he repeated the phrase, half-joked, half-seriously, "Go!" The door slammed shut. Grue and I stood in the lobby with our backs to the door. Bitch, still holding Bastard, reached out and placed one claw on the girl’s throat, jabbing one claw between her throat and Bastard’s chest. She couldn’t ======== SAMPLE 13 ======== ed. The bugs would be on him, blind, ready to bite and sting. He saw his enemies line one wall, a man covered in thousands of needle-fine tendrils that snaked out of the center of his forehead. They had him outnumbered, but they had his collar. He couldn’t think straight, of course. He’d done good, just as long as he kept a safe distance, kept his head on a wall. He felt a wave of nostalgia, turning back to the first memory that came to mind. The woman, her face marred only by a black mask with what looked to be thousands of eyes, had leaned up against a wall, a television placed on the floor. She smelled like nothing but sweat and nothing but the faint aroma of clove. There was a man with no shoulders, no hair, and armor that made him look more like a gorilla than a man, with scales that extended past his shoulders. His armor covered his right shoulder and left bicep, and the armor on top of the belt and onto his hips was like plates of metal, joined by another metal net extending behind him. His face was distorted, so that all of his features were hidden by a hood. He’d been beaten, battered and burned, and his face was twisted into a badly shaped ball, with ribs that flared and billowed at the corners, his nose and mouth separated from the lower half of his body. There was a girl that wasn’t Asian in similar clothes, who had a knife held between her fingers, her eyes too large for her face, and a mask like the ones he’d seen the others use, but for a red band across the top. The red band was made to look like a skull, and the girl was the size of a housecat. When they’d first come for him, they hadn’t gotten their hands dirty. The girl sat him down on the ground, bound his hands behind his backs. To this day, she’s kept him pretty well fed. There had been other capes visiting, too, and the girl had been an ally, letting the older man deal with his enemies and his targets instead of trying to use the capes as an excuse to hurt him and hurt the people he’d been protecting. The man with no shoulders entered, and the girl with the mask helped him to his feet. "Where are you?" he murmured. "Aloha. I was going to go see how the others are doing, see if anyone needed anything." "The others?" the man with the skull asked. "I’ll come." "I thought I had you," the girl said. "There’s more," he said. "Help me out?" "Just give me a second to get settled. I’ll call if I need anything while we wait for Lung." The man with the knife bent down, reached out, and grabbed the hair of the girl, pulling his fingers back. She dropped the knife, backed away like any other client might do if they’d been caught in a spot of trouble. But she wouldn’t run like she’d seen others, and she caught the eye of the man with the mask. "What would you pay? For a glimpse into the future? Or if I was in a position to make a profit from my… whatever I’m doing?" she asked. "A glimpse, yes," the man said. "But there’s more. About my business." He didn’t say much more, but I could tell from there that he was going to try and distract her from the point he’d just thrown her off. There was another knock on the door. "Come in!" the teenage girl called out. I felt a tremor as the girl with the mask answered. The man with the knife entered. "There’s a knock on the door," the girl with the mask said, again. "Sit," the man said. He held one hand up, like he was greeting someone new, as if giving his introduction. "How are you doing?" the teenage girl asked. She glanced at the man with the knife. The man stepped closer, and the girl with the crusted mask closed the distance. "Get out," the girl with the knife warned him. "Sit," he murmured. She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed. There were others around the corner. "I didn’t know you were here." "I’m sorry," he said. "How’s she doing ======== SAMPLE 14 ======== ed as much as you can, I suppose." "I… yes?" "I’d like to take over this group. I’ve got the others to help, but I need everyone’s input. Who has experience in managing multiple groups? Who has experience managing squads, parties and teams? I’m also working on getting the word out, so make your calls and decide what your plans are here." "All right." "Then I’ll step down, then see to the others. I’d like to take over civilian life for a bit, maybe in New York, a bit in Boston… New York or Boston." "We’ll manage." "All the time. I’ll make sure Skitter’s got what she needed," she replied, smiling. ■ It was a beautiful day for the city. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the buildings sprawled out on the water, cities of various sizes gathering into one, all standing on tiptoes. She was in the city just hours after she’d left for the Academy, and the day was somehow more enjoyable now. The day was cool, the air warm. She could still see the towers and the water fritzed into a city, made even more complicated by the water and the buildings that surrounded and covered all of New York City, Boston and other locations in the East end. It was only a matter of time before something happened in one of those cities. For now, she enjoyed a pleasant day in the sun, the sea breeze. She glanced at the others as she traveled from spot to spot with the water and the buildings sweeping into view. There were people along the coast, enjoying their days where they’d never experienced the pain of a breaking wave; the wind from the waves washing into their windows, washing into their doors and windows, and perhaps most surreal of all, a group of men and women standing around a ruined building that had taken too long to clear. They were so lost in their own sensory input and disorientation to care about any landmarks or people nearby, so lost in their own thoughts and ideas that they couldn’t even be bothered. It was a very American setting, a place she’d grown up in. She’d missed Brockton Bay. She’d also been a few days away from her hometown. Now she was making plans to make up for it, visiting for a few days and returning when the time was right. She’d go in costume as Imp for the time being; she didn’t want to be left to wonder what had happened to her father. That said, while she was in town as part of the crowd to see her mother bury her father, she wanted to catch a bus downtown to see her hometown again. She hated this. She didn’t even want to think about what happened to her dad. After a fashion, that was. She wanted to get away, to get away from those questions, and it didn’t seem she could get back to her life as normal while she was doing it. That wasn’t to say it never occurred to her. She was just wrong, in a way. She’d taken one semester off of school to help with the Merchants, had stopped going to class and had instead been focused on being Skitter, making as many weapons out of scrap metal and tools as she could find. It had only taken three weekends, during one of the spur of the moment crises, to get all the tools she’d needed. Those same tools, now, were valuable. They were both very useful, if sometimes inconvenient. A pair of scissors, a hammer, a small crowbar and a set of tweezers. She went on to start making her costume over the next few months, picking up the tools as she went, keeping as much as she could of the more useful stuff. It wasn’t perfect, not with the way the clothes soaked up moisture, but it was pretty decent. By the time she was done, she could customize her costume and wear it to school each day without having to worry about being wet, dirty or uncomfortable. She hated this feeling of being lost in a foreign land. Every morning, she ventured into the alleyways where she’d been able to find the school’s perimeter. It hadn’t always been perfect, and some of the changes had made life more difficult than it needed to be, but it had been a place where she could be seen as someone who was doing something worthwhile. Now, though, her eyes roved down the streets, and she couldn’t help but see that line. That line where the citymorphing had taken half of the school, ======== SAMPLE 15 ======== ed to stand still, while the others made their way over to me. There were two others. A girl with red curls, maybe a little older than her brother, and a boy. "Hello?" the red-haired girl called out. The red-haired boy looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties, with freckles and frizzy black hair. He looked just a little intimidated as he looked over toward us, but he shook his head a little. "I’m not new to this," I said. "Oh, yeah," the pale boy grumbled, "Weaver wants to keep doing this?" "She’s been running around with us for some time. The reason we’ve been staying on course is simply for her sake, keeping an eye on the newcomer," I said. "But that doesn’t look like it’s hurting her any. You’re sure?" "Yes." "Then you’re right. The newbie shouldn’t be treated any differently." "There’s nothing holding her back. It’s the fact that she’s on patrol, you know?" Weld nodded. "I know. Now, so long as there’s contact, we should-" "Stop," my phone interrupted him. The pale boy leaned close and pressed one hand to his ear. "I’ll try my hardest to stop her," the boy with the hair explained. I turned to the red-haired girl. "Weld?" "What?" he asked. "You’re stopping her." He frowned. "We are!" "That’s not a big surprise. She’s been around us a while." "How old is she?" I asked. "Sixteen," the pale boy said. "Is it odd that she wants to keep going so much? You wouldn’t have thought she’s a newcomer." "It’s interesting," Weld told me. "It wouldn’t hurt to ask," I cut in. He only nodded. "I’m still not getting the impression she’s got some sort of supernatural ability?" I asked. "She doesn’t," Weld said. "I haven’t been any deeper into any of the background stuff, either. A quick look doesn’t turn up any obvious superhuman ability. I don’t see that either, with the boy." "And the girl," the red-haired girl said. After looking around, she said, "That’s one I should really know about." "Sure, sure," Weld said. "Let’s see. You can’t see a lot in the background stuff, either, not really. That should be easier than it looks. Here’s the rest of the background details. You’re not in school? Or are you on a college campus?" "I’m in school," the pale boy said. "Two months." "Is this in the works?" I asked. "I don’t know," Weld said. "I haven’t been able to find out about it." "We can’t take any action without risking things," the pale girl said. "We lose the support of the heroes and the whole world could fall apart." "With luck, this would be a common enough concern," Weld said. "I mean, considering how dire things are, there’s been threats." "No threat imminent," I said. "But it could be… potentially dangerous." "Right. Fine," Weld said. He smiled. "We got you guys on a hold, apparently. How was the other rendezvous?" "Brockton Bay," I answered. "You were supposed to be using Taylor’s flight pack," the girl said. Weld smiled a little, as if it caught him in a peculiar light. "The thing we weren’t supposed to talk about," I said, "Was how you guys came to be here." "Easily," Weld said. His expression fell. "It was the-" A voice in my ear. No, I was more bothered by the sudden, sharp rise in bass level as I looked up. It was Tattletale’s voice. "The dogs have been returned to their normal size," I said, suppressing a sigh. "I just wanted to be sure you guys’d been informed." "This has been a bad call," Weld ======== SAMPLE 16 ======== ed. I used her shoulder to get my arm on the top of the bed so I was in position for it. "You going to let that bastard escape?" I asked. "No," Chevalier said. "Going to catch them, see that bastard fails." "Are you going to give the order?" I asked. "Just to tell him not to?" "No," Defiant said. I shook my head. "The Undersiders won’t be doing any favors. They won’t be forcing his hand if it’s not for our benefit. If we can track their movements and take them out alive…" "Because," I said, "He’s one of the good guys." "Because you’re weak when it comes to self preservation," Defiant said. "My people, yeah, they do tend to go after the bad guys. But not like this." "We don’t have a chance," I said. "You want to fight the Nine," Defiant said. He looked at Dragon. "We were just talking about your… other self. What do you think?" Dragon nodded. "This?" she asked. "Not so good. I’m getting glimpses, and I think I can manage some semblance of self preservation, but I’m starting to see some pretty big differences in appearance." "It doesn’t matter," Miss Militia said. "If they survive, we lose. And if we don’t… well, let’s not do the Undersiders any favors. We need to make sure you’re operating as safely as you possibly can." "We should," Dragon whispered. "We have to let the Undersiders win," Chevalier interjected. "Maybe," Miss Militia said. She didn’t get a chance to speak. All at once, the fight’s intensity dropped. I was woken by the sensation of something heavy falling off, hitting the floor. The fight with the Nine had been brief, intense, and brutal. It would be a minute, though, before they caught us off guard again. "Good thing you can’t really see or hear us," Chevalier commented. "If you wanted," Miss Militia said. "You want?" "Yes," she said. She glanced around. "You’re safe." I glanced at the woman, who was clutching the grenade launcher and walking on the bed. I could see the way an expression crossed her face. "You made us safe," Chevalier said, as if that was an admission and not just confirmation. It wasn’t. "Yes," she said after a few moments. "We’ll need your assistance in getting your brothers and sisters to safety." "We… want to help them," Miss Militia said, a bit of a struggle to get the word out. "Yes," the woman said. "What’s the situation?" I asked. "Tattletale’s with Dragon, with records," Miss Militia said. "She said our fight ends here, and Dragon will be left standing where she is." I saw Tattletale nod. "It’s good," Tattletale said. "Not a problem. They have more firepower." "Dragon wouldn’t do that," Miss Militia said. "The people who want help will make you out to be their enemy. Get the wrong impression. You’re in a good mood, you’re excited, and that’s healthy." "Tattletale was talking to Miss Militia," Defiant said. "We shouldn’t be alone with her, now." "No," she said. "Everyone and everything can join the effort. They’ll have the Undersiders, they’ll have us, and they can work together for good effect. Our goal is one person." She paused. "We should be helping other places as well. A number of hostages have apparently been taken, probably for our benefit, but more need to be arranged to maintain the peace." "It’s the Protectorate…" I finished the thought, pressing my hands against my head. Tattletale nodded. "That’s important. But the rest of these teams, every team has to be split up. So we’ll be talking with Parian and Foil. Maybe there’ll be others, I can’t be certain. Or the Parahumans could act as shield to draw attention to our presence. At the ======== SAMPLE 17 ======== ed the word. There was a crash nearby, people running. When I reached the base of the stairs and made my way to Canary’s room, I found her watching a TV in the corner. With luck, it would be my cue to leave. "You have something to apologize for," Tattletale said. "About this being your territory?" I asked. Tattletale shrugged, glancing in the direction that had been so casual before. "About the way we’re handling things," I said. "Not really apologizing, but-" "No," Tattletale said, raising her chin. "I was with Sundancer, with Rachel and the dogs. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? We’re family. We share this space. We’d all like to stay. But it’s very, very un-tidy." "I don’t want to make you do anything," I told her. "It was my choice," she said. "But can you please put the TV and the binoculars down on the floor? It’s messy, it’s overwhelming, and I don’t want you guys trying to sweep it off the floor, not when you’ve been here for the past two days. There’s no shame in that." I tried the binoculars, and my eyes snapped open. "Sundancer’s watching TV?" I asked. "There’s an HDTV in the middle of the room," Tattletale explained. "Oh." Tattletale leaned forward, her forehead resting against mine. "There was a TV on, we could have used one, but they probably didn’t want that." "I’ll do what I can," I told her. I reached up, placing a hand on the door frame to keep it from opening. I was only beginning to worry that my hand would break when it made contact with the door. When I didn’t hear any response from Tattletale, Amelia called out through the door: "Hey, chu-dee! Can you use your power on them?" It was a joke, sure, but it had to be a signal. "If there’s three of them, maybe they’ll give me their attention?" "They won’t give you theirs," Tattletale said, as if answering Amelia’s question. "That’s not very likely. I’ve seen how they act, the way they act around people who know their innermost secrets." Tattletale shook her head. "There are other things I’d like you to look out for. What is that?" "A bomb," I answered. "A bomb and a hostage." "I want them on the ground floor, not up on a ledge. And if they break, find them, then leave them on the floor. And if they step on you, hit you, then get back to protecting them. That’s an acceptable form of attack if it suits you. Besides, it’d be stupid." "Okay," I said. "But," she said, smiling, "They’re definitely going to want to be on the upper floors." "But that might be the wrong time, or the wrong place," I said. "Or it’s all over the place." "I’ve made a list, not long," Tattletale said. "I’m going to have to go look it over after I’m gone, and then I’ll talk to Dragon." "I want to work with you," I said. I saw Tattletale perk up, then falter. This was it. This was what we’d worked on, on improving. "You want me to do something for you?" "I’ll take that in turn," I said. "Will you?" Tattletale glanced toward the stairwell. "I suppose it would be kind." "Good," I said. "I don’t want to act dumb. If she wants to come, she can come here." Tattletale nodded. I stood and approached the door. My bugs died on contact with the wet paper. "If you two want to stay, it’s not a big deal. I won’t be pressing any buttons or banging my knuckles." Tattletale nodded again. I reached out, and I could feel the ======== SAMPLE 18 ======== ed her face and arms in various gestures of pain over the glass, the plastic and the metal of the chair. I was still holding onto Bitch, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I wasn’t as firm in my grip as Lisa was, and I was struggling to avoid snapping the blade. "You’re okay to go," Grue spoke, reassuringly, as we approached the ambulance’s entrance. "Oh my god," Bitch wailed, still wailing. "You’re so alive," Regent said, as the ambulance pulled up. "My mind…" Bitch paused and made a noise like a broken record, "…this fucking broken." "I’m here. I can’t move much," Regent groaned, as the ambulance pulled out of the parking lot. A moment’s pity, Imp thought, as her bugs brought her to a stop. "Why are you so cold?" Bitch asked Regent, as the ambulance pulled up. "You don’t know me," Regent answered. Bitch stopped, averting her eyes. "You said you were the bravest man in the world." "That’s a lie," Regent replied. "I’ve spent years living by that rule. I’m the most likely to get hurt, I’ve played by the rules, I’ve had my back against the other big heroes." "You don’t know how important that is, do you?" Regent challenged the older man, "What would you do?" "Do you know how hard it is to get results? To have people around me who really care, with no baggage? You’re the only person my power’s been able to impress. To get the answers I need, I’m going to have to put up with being unlikable." Grue shook his head, "Do-" I could see Bitch flinch as a spray of spray foam made contact with her temple. "I could die a horrible death," Bitch finished for him. Regent shook his head, "I’ll try to look like I’m okay. Not that you’re getting a bad deal, per se, but even if they let me off the hook, I’ll do what I can to make sure that happens." "No," Bitch spoke, her tone flat, a firm set of orders, "Stop." She was a bitch. I couldn’t argue that point. We stopped at a room with a TV and a computer. "I think you ought to know," Bitch spoke, as she removed her mask, "I’m a vigilante, not a vigilante. I’m a leader with the badges. My power helps. You need me." Regent and I looked at her. A little too late. He’d gone already. "I’m not the leader you wanted when I was talking about the guys in training. That’s not the real power. I’m more of a follower. More of a healer than an assassin. But I can work with both." "We need you in the field," Grue spoke, using his power to shut the window. "No. No, Grue, we need your help with Bitch. We don’t have enough people who are on our side. You are our only frontline, but it’s not enough." "You haven’t heard of me?" Regent made the connection. "There’s this guy right here," Bitch pointed at the window, "He’s just as guilty as me for what Regent just did." "I’ve spent years around him," Regent said. He looked towards Bitch, like he’d asked the question, "Have you even tried to get to know him?" "He’s one of the nicest people I’ve worked with," Bitch replied without slowing down a beat, "No offense." "That’s like saying you’re a stranger in a strange land," Regent commented. "He’s innocent. And the way I see it, Bitch, if the Undersiders let him go, then it breaks our deal with Coil, we become enemies, and a lot of people in this city would turn on us. And since we got the money, we could easily become a target of Imperials. And it wouldn’t end well, either. So I’m ======== SAMPLE 19 ======== ed at the same time, I realized I wasn’t alone. We’d joined the other seven teams in their fight, each of us together. The enemy was distracted trying to find a way out of where Chevalier was standing just a few feet to our right. The heroes engaged the enemy, and so did the enemy combatants. If I’d known this was coming, I would have helped Defiant and the others. If I’d really wanted to help, I would have gone with Tattletale, but she’s busy. It wasn’t an ambush that we were expecting, but a trap. A trap laid by Tattletale. Plague 12.6 The ground vibrated and crackled with the noise of teeth bared, flailing around and trying to grab, whirling around and coming up empty. I was on one side of the street, Tattletale on the other. Not a fight, not the usual sort of fighting. Just normal, not a fight that would necessarily be fatal. Her hair was blown back, and she was wearing sandals. I wasn’t surprised to see she’d just got to a point where she could step into the storm drain. She was shouting something. I saw the look and the nervousness on Tattletale’s face as she crossed three stories and ran down the same street we were on, and I sensed her change too. The way she seemed to focus more on me, the more she was focused on the safety of me and my injuries. "Hurry!" Tattletale hollered. She was so close, before I could get a full sense of where she was, stop and start, darting headlong into the storm drain. I didn’t have a reply for her threat, so I just made a sound as I followed, feeling my face pain as I took in a deep breath and turned my neck to turn my back so I wouldn’t tangle with Tattletale on the way down. Tattletale wasn’t far behind. She was whirling around in one spot, holding a piece of wall between her and Tattletale. Tattletale looked as though she was going to make a dash for it when she disappeared down the drain. I saw her stop and took an action. Like I wanted to be doing better. "Dude. Come on!" Tattletale dove for me, her feet skidding on the cobblestone, and I found myself on the street, in the midst of something, trying to follow the path where the storm drains led off to the houses in the center of the street. I backed away from her, saw the blackened stump of a black, flailing hand. I got two steps away before I realized that was my hand. I backed up as much as I could, but the drain wasn’t quite quite dry enough to help myself slide. The only thing holding me down was a pair of plastic girders that bordered it, and the hand that had been gripping my hand, trying to keep it from dragging my leg back to the street. I couldn’t make myself help her here, couldn’t let her go down that path to help others. But maybe I couldn’t help myself. As though that wasn’t an issue, the fight was only a block away, and the enemy force was at our edges. The bugs that I had on me were in pieces, drifting in the damp water, drifting away from the mass of insects that were supposed to surround and attack me. There were some flying creatures I recognized as my bugs – some flying insects that probably didn’t fly because I’d taken a liking to them as I’d gotten older and spent more time in the company of them. That wasn’t even the worst of it. The enemy force was using more of those flying things that had been crawling with me in the alleyway. Now they were spreading out across the entire street, some carrying the pieces of what had been the storm drain that was still partially flooded and drifting inland. Others were on the ground, carrying the water toward us. More flying creatures that had been crawling with me were flying around Tattletale and me, moving in a zig-zagging pattern, circling above us like a tornado. Tattletale shouted. "Weaver!" The tornado touched her and shook her. I wasn’t sure how true that was. The ground shook and rattled on its approach, the ground rising and crashing violently with a force that put the surrounding objects in the neighborhood of five or six stories tall. If the shaking was a side effect of the ======== SAMPLE 20 ======== ed "What’s this?" someone else offered a very casual commentary. Some kid said something in a language I couldn’t even guess at, in a language I didn’t even know. There was the sound of a person’s boots on the carpet as others took their seats. I wasn’t sure the seats of the chairs would be any easier than others, and being closer to the kids didn’t help in that department. The children looked to the parents for support as the father got to his feet, gesturing for the seat to be taken. The father took the seat directly behind me, his arms folded on the armrests, his eyes on the table. I stared at him, stared as he rubbed his beard, as if it were only skin deep. His youngest child, maybe twelve or thirteen, looked up from the book I was reading and asked, in a low voice, "…you don’t do drugs?" The father glanced at the boy and then smiled, "We can afford it, dear. They’re not good for us, but they’re good for them. They’d be good for you, Taylor." I looked at the seat opposite mine, glanced at the books on the table. It was empty. Maybe someone had left. "Why don’t you wash your hair like you’re supposed to?" her mother asked. "I’ll wash mine when it’s time," the dad replied. The kid sat up, hurried to get into a place in front of the dad. "You wouldn’t?" she asked. The dad looked between the two of us, shrugged. "…I wouldn’t. I’d rather I wasn’t sitting next to you." "You could. I hate to use words like that, but it’s like, you couldn’t put away that cigarette of yours and start a conversation if you wanted to pretend you were one of us, could you?" "I couldn’t," the dad said. Now I could see why. As I’d understood a few years ago, it was something of a general rule for parents to encourage their kids to use a cigarette, to light up. I’d felt compelled to get my own fix after my mother had pushed my brother to smoke at fifteen, and had felt rather forced to turn a blind eye when some other parents had done the same. From the father’s perspective, the risk and reward was too good, too good coming from someone who made a conscious choice to do it. "Thank you." "I also think it’s rude you’re the only one who’s ever allowed to smoke in the house." "I wouldn’t either," the dad said. "It’s our custom." This kid sat up, pressed her hands against her stomach. She looked genuinely upset. She leaned forwards and rested her face against the table, the nudge in the direction of the dad’s stomach likely the only person in the room she really trusted, the only person who could actually make her stomach turn and force its closure. The dad smiled but didn’t say anything, continuing to stare at the empty chair where he’d been sitting instead of trying to find a seat. I felt bad, wanted to say something. I felt a flicker of sympathy, kind of, just to make things more bearable. I was in a worse position than he was, having just been in the way. "I’d like to know what’s been going on," my mom spoke, interrupting our father and mother from discussing the recent episode they’d been attending university in, "So many things. I can guess, but this is important." She extended a hand. It took the awkward handling of her hand to make me stop, stop and stare at her. "This is important, Mom," my dad spoke, firm. It took me a second to realize why he was saying, "There’s been a lot going on, lately." "The bullying?" my mom leaned in his direction. "The bullying," my dad repeated. I glanced at the girl, to see if she’d noticed, and she had looked away, only the tip of her eye moving to pay attention to the boy for short seconds. It was like they were doing it for attention, but it was a reminder, all the same. "The reason I’m here is because my sister and I had a good day," my mom finally spoke after a long pause, her tone an attempt to soften the shock of the announcement to the crowd ======== SAMPLE 21 ======== ed out over my whole body, one arm and one leg, one arm and one leg still dusted with what I believed were my torn flesh, as the others had been by the time I had gotten up to get my mask off, with the blood and pus and soiled shirt and fabric clinging to them. I’d had a bad day. I’d had them. Had they all. I saw the look on their faces, knew it had to be worse than what I’d experienced, because it was like seeing a mirror that wasn’t quite right, in how I saw myself. What was I? Not right. Just not right. But I was still angry and alone in a world where everyone was either fighting for supremacy and status or for money and social standing. "You have eyes on them," Grue spoke. "They’re dead," Imp said. "I’ll deal with them when I’m done here," Grue replied. "I hate to break it to you," Imp said, but she didn’t say anything more. "What kind of situations do you see yourself in? Between Lung fighting alongside the PRT squad that comes after him, Shadow Stalker and the two PRT teams in New Wave with her, the various fights with that other group of Slaughterhouse Nine, the time you’ve spent with the Travelers, the time you’ve been stranded on a coast without power, without shelter?" She paused. She looked at me. "You’ll never…" "But they’re always around." "Then why can’t I leave?" she asked. The question was like a shadow cast over her like a stop motion film, a gentle light moving across the entire frame. She could see the way the scene was tilted as she made it follow. She’ll never go out? "Go home," Grue spoke. When she nodded, he let go of her hand, looked at us, looked at the people at the far end of the street. "I wish you luck. Good luck." He turned to leave, leaving the others to their troubles. "Thank you," I said, feeling a little hollow as I turned toward him. "If that’s alright. I’ll be back." I didn’t wait for confirmation. I got out of the car, setting my feet on the ground, kicked the door of the building against a corner of the roof, and swung it at the ceiling. I struck the thing three times. "What was that?" I asked, when I’d let my body settle in, my mind at ease. "Tattletale." "She’s going to come after us." "I know." "We-" I started to speak, let the movement go out of my frame, "-have to defend ourselves. You have to too." "The Travelers, too." I could understand that, really. The way that Tattletale was acting here. But I’d feel a little betrayed. I couldn’t say I understood her, or I would have sooner left, but I could understand why there was bitterness in the corners of her eyes. That, or she had a mental block, or something. It would suck, winning. Winning in every way. But losing was unavoidable, and not because we couldn’t win. I’d made mistakes along the way. Now I’d have leverage. I could make a stand. "We have three options," Regent spoke. He approached his hiding place, behind a desk. "Either you come with or we leave." He sounded calm, confident, unruffled. I felt my heart sink. "Either you come with," Regent echoed his earlier statement, "and we stay here tonight, or we leave." I resisted the urge to flinch. Not wanting to add to the tension, I kept quiet. I could feel the bugs I’d gathered in my costume moving in my direction. "You can come with," Tattletale spoke. "No," I replied, carefully. I knew it was pretty damn obvious, but I didn’t want to draw her attention. "What?" Tattletale asked, as if she hadn’t been given the right answer. "A… way to end this." "Are we killing him?" Grue asked. Tattletale tilted her head in Grue’s direction, "I haven’t seen him die yet. Can you guess?" "He’s still alive?" I ======== SAMPLE 22 ======== ed him," I said. "He’s one of our best. It would be stupid to choose him over us." It took her a second to realize I was talking to her. "I see how it’s stupid," she said. I looked at Shadow Stalker. "Skitter," I said. "I really admire you for being that principled ally, but I just can’t stand you. Being friends, being comrades in arms, but I can’t stand you either." She didn’t respond. "…So I’m going to go after you hard," Shadow Stalker said. "The sooner this doesn’t escalate, the better." "If it makes us enemies, your friendship with me may never be the same after getting my hands on this power, the sooner I’ll never get to meet the man who can really make my hair crawl." "What?" Aisha looked down at her shoes, then looked up at me. "I won’t force you," I said, feeling dumb at how I had come up with that line, "Or tell you to stop, or do or say anything like that. I do like you to get fucked up like this. It wouldn’t be good PR for either of us." "No," she said. I looked down. I’d have to get away from the ground. "What?" Aisha made it more of a question than anything. Shadow Stalker looked down at her shoes, looked me over, then turned her attention back to her feet. "What?" "Do you have any idea how badly I fucked up your feelings when I said I’d leave?" She didn’t look like she had any answers for that. "No," she said. The air around her shifted as if she thought of a way out. "No. I don’t. I’m just wondering how. I’ve been so tired, and you look so small." I felt a twinge of pity for her, like a faint reaction to someone having something bad to say. "I don’t feel that small. Why?" "Because you’re not like me. You’re not a human on the same level as someone like me who has experienced all of the misery I could possibly imagine. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about that…" She trailed off. I looked down at my shoes. Why are you smiling like a kid’s face made me laugh? "I won’t say anything more," I told her. "Because I love you?" she asked. "Because I could never be as happy as that, ever. But I love you." I thought about the expression on her face and how she was so serious, so calm, even when she had words to say at a moment’s notice. I had to admit, I thought I remembered a little, at least. When we’d met, I’d taken out the garbage. She had cut the grass so I’d have a place to sleep overnight, and when it came time for me to eat, she had invited me to her place. I’d been happy there, in a very different way. We’d both been very lonely. I’d had a bad experience in the past with her father, had had bad words to say when it came to the bullying. It had hurt me more than if I’d had any of my real family there, and there had been only the two of us. There were those other problems, that long-term impact. But my feelings were unyielding, and that had been enough. When I spoke, I seemed to come out sounding more like Legend, "I really liked that you said that to me. Because, yeah. But you said something like that because it’s true. You’re a bad person. You’re a danger to this city, and everybody here knows it. And what you did after that, I can’t imagine. But yeah. That was the most honest thing I could have said." She frowned, "I don’t know how to help you that. I don’t know if I can even help myself." "I don’t know either," I replied. "We don’t know each other as good as we should, and there’s no helping that. It’s not something we should do. But…" I trailed off. She turned to ======== SAMPLE 23 ======== ed. I was only one person, a team of less than twelve. A lone wolf, an individual on the fringe of society that had just failed to make the most of their talents. To be effective, they needed to be spread out, with others able to lend a hand and support. And with so many of them, there was the possibility that someone decided to leave. There was no guarantee that I, Scion, was the only one capable of stopping all this. My own personal risk management, knowing that I might need help from others… I began to form a plan. I found others in a radius. People I knew. I gathered them on the ground floor of a building. There was no staircase, no elevator was the only way to go up, but we’d be getting there in one piece. Failing that, I found the bugs. I began preparing with a swarm-clone so I could use the same method to kill the real me, before I started anything else. Scion’s dark shadow, as it had been before I had my powers, was spreading out over the world. Cities and even a neighboring world had shadowed glimpses of him. There were only a handful of them, now, and they were organized into pairs. One pair would keep him abreast of his enemies, the other pair would patrol the area in pairs to give Scion a clearer view of where most of the enemies were and who had the upper hand. One pair was heading for America, while the other headed for China. There was a small warning at the bottom of the newspaper, about the risks involved. The pair made their way to Washington, D.C., where they would stay with the group. I could only hope that Scion didn’t take any further action. I drew the swarm-doubles onto a single sheet of white linen, placed it in a large cardboard box, and left, heading out to meet the others along the way. As they reached America, they spread out again. A pair headed for Europe. Another pair headed north, to Australia. A third headed west, to South America. I joined the pair that arrived in Australia, an unnamed young man and a young girl. I felt a kind of relief when the man glanced a little away while he typed, when his eyes lingered on a web site full of images and only the words Scion. I drew out the words ‘thanks’, along with an ‘anonymous’ password on the back of one of the sheets of white cloth. I would use the contents of the box to fill out a security tag, and I would be returning to it soon, retrieving the contents of the box. The package started to wheel itself through the air. An ‘anonymous’ tag? I shook my head a little, turning back to the source of the ‘anonymous’ tag. The person who had sent me the article? Someone with powers. I shook my head a little more, leaving the text open so that anyone on the screen might read what I said. Was Scion acting against his own self-interest? We met in a cloud of dust in the middle of a busy street. He reached out with his power, and the air exploded with a dull dull taste as his power turned the entire street into a smoking ruin. The smoke cleared as the pair drew away into the distance. They found shelter at the next site, where they would wait for the right time, but only for a minute. He leaped, and he couldn’t reach her. He turned around and faced her. "No," he growled. Scion threw a handful of his light. One behind her, one next to her, four behind her, and one behind him. The girl stumbled, but she held herself steady. She couldn’t touch him. When he threw a handful of his power at her, she did nothing. Scion threw another, and again, she reacted. Her feet slammed into the ground. The ground suddenly became a flat expanse, and Scion’s feet skidded on it. When he reacted once more, she skidded on it. She reached out to touch the flat expanse where the ground had been, but the effect vanished. She caught herself with the opposite foot, as hard as she was able. Scion’s power continued to affect the ground, and he reached out for her. As he did, the air around him became dense, the air moving faster. The impact of the action struck her as though she weren’t even there. Scion struck at her, and ======== SAMPLE 24 ======== ed down at the same time, and then I was out of there. If I got to them first, the others could take care of you in a flash." "This plan doesn’t sound good on the surface," Alec commented. "It’s not a plan at all. But… you’re pretty damn sure I wouldn’t even be alive if this wasn’t for me, and that’s a pretty damn high ratio." "It’s a rough ratio. It isn’t what I’d expected, and I can’t say for sure that my power would’ve done anything different on that score. I think part of my body saying that is that I kind of love my family and friends and the people they are. Part of that includes wanting them to survive. If I get shot or killed, it’d be because I let myself get too close for comfort, because I let myself get too worked up about stuff and I was too tired when it came to them." "That’s a lot more crushing," Alec said. "Not at all. It’s important. I guess, in a roundabout way, I feel like I’ve become them. I’ve taken that human quality that I find appealing, and applied it to the guy and his girlfriend as a side effect. Part of that, yeah." "You’re describing them like your family." "I like how it fits. My power includes that, yeah," Alec said. "But you weren’t consciously thinking about it." "I don’t know. I can guess what you’re thinking about, though." "Maybe I was thinking about it some. Maybe I wanted to fall in love and have kids at the same time." "Your power implies you’re sexually active." "That’s what everyone talks about when they’re younger and less experienced," Alec answered. "When you were nine, your mom left, and you fell in love with the idea of having kids in her company. It helped shape you, shaped me in a sense. Even though I’m only fifteen." "That’s not a big revelation to hear," Alec said. "I’m just saying." "I know it’s not for me," Alec admitted. When he opened his mouth to reply, his voice returned to normal, just a little louder. "But it’s a fact." "You’re still trying?" "I’m trying, but I’m not sure how well the results are going to turn out, and it would hurt my feelings to do it." "It wouldn’t matter anyways. In any event, you’re not trying hard enough. You’re still in the teens, but you’ve got a couple of grown men around your age pushing you to try harder. You’re still struggling to find the words to explain." "I think I’ve reached puberty. I don’t have to go to the bathroom, and I don’t have to stop to take a piss." "That’s not a thing you’re going to fix on your own. You’re helping your dad." "I can do that?" "I told you so." "I don’t envy you. Pushing yourself that far over and over? Maybe that will help you break into older months." "I’m not that easy to get into a mindset where I can get there easily. You get your dad a little closer to an evening, then you get that early too. I don’t do it for me. I don’t have time, and there’s nothing I can do about my dad’s place. He’s my mom, but he’s not, you know?" "You mentioned that yesterday," Alec leaned back in his seat, glanced at Brian. "Yeah. I know what it’s like to struggle alone, to feel like you don’t have somebody to go to when you’ve been down this road, you know?" "I know," Alec shrugged. Brian nodded, "So you’re on your own. You won’t be able to talk to anyone about this, right? I know I can’t say enough good things about you, but you need to stop doing that, first." "Just stop fucking talking." "You’re still there. I was there for every bad mood that Brian got in the latter ======== SAMPLE 25 ======== ed on the ground. We had a moment where she stood almost upright, as if balancing on just two unbroken toes, and I was able to start rolling the other two legs back into place. We made our way back to her, and I took a second to grab at her waist, tugging her hips back in a counter-clockwise angle like a dog might rear its butt. She tried to get away with only one hand tight around my throat, and I held at least one leg in the way, forcing her to turn around to face us and press my face against her hands and knees. When I did, there was a tearing sound, and then a small piece of glass flew into my face. I felt a gash running from the corner of my jaw up between my cheekbone and my temple. I didn’t like the sound of that, hearing it in my face, but I couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh. "You okay?" Tattletale asked. "Y-yeah," I replied. If I’d been knocked out, I would’ve screamed. What made it worse was that she hadn’t asked, and it probably wouldn’t have helped. I winced, "You hurt me. I can’t do anything." "Don’t pull on me!" Tattletale hurried to get up and help Bonesaw. I got a sense of how badly I’d fucked up by the fact that she came to our rescue. A second later, she was sitting herself down on Bentley’s back. Grue climbed over the dog and helped with the load. "You okay?" Tattletale asked. "Y-yeah," I responded. "I’m choking." Tattletale put one hand on my shoulder, while Grue placed one hand on the side of my face. We backed away until Bentley was sandwiched between the four of us, and Tattletale tried to help him down. It was Imp that did the actual work, pulling Bentley off his master and dragging him into the side of the garbage truck. He crumpled. "Let me help," I shouted. It sounded so feeble, but I was hoping it would move the point. "That’s a problem," Grue spoke. "Yeah. It’s not a good one," Tattletale replied. "I can feel two things in every department, in my range. Distraction, the ability to use my power on my own initiative and with whatever tools I have at my disposal, distraction, a sense of personal space, and the ability to think abstractly." "I can make it stop," I murmured, trying to sound calm. "It’s a lot to deal with, considering that you won’t be around much longer, and our group has been in contact with the Protectorate, the Wards, and the records you set," Grue responded. "Don’t pretend," Tattletale spoke, frowning. "All of this effort you put into staying in one place. You’re setting yourself up for failure." I closed my eyes, put a hand on my forehead, and mentally thanked the good doctor for reminding me what this was about. "The good Doctor?" Grue asked. I shook my head, "Tattletale and the others. They told me about the danger, I have to stop them from doing any permanent harm. Grue, Imp, I’m leaving you guys to help them. I want to be thorough, make sure no serious harm can come of this, or my teammates can get hurt for sure." "If you guys are willing," Grue spoke. Tattletale nodded, satisfied with his response. "There’s one more thing I’ll need your help with," Grue offered, "It’s pretty damn critical. The Nine and the Nine’s allies want to get in your way, hurt you. Get out of here." Grue glanced back toward the trucks, "You guys already checked the roads around here? Anything that’s loose?" "No," Tattletale replied. "You asked if I could pass on information." "Fuck that," Grue spoke. "I’ll need backup," Tattletale added. "I know," Grue spoke. "Let’s see," Tattletale started drawing out a line in the sand with her finger, "Route one. Keep in the shadows. Use disguises, low-level ways to slip past radar." "Route one doesn’t work," Grue spoke.