I started this one at least three years ago, and half-finished it before being distracted by other ideas. I found it a few days ago and decided to add some more to it, and perhaps finish it off as a two-shot. This is the first half...
"I don't get you, Hebert." Sophia glared daggers at the tall skinny girl who hunched her shoulders and tried to hide in her hoodie, her bony elbows pulled in to her sides and her overall demeanor one of someone who desperately wanted to be somewhere else. "You just don't fight back. Sheep, that's what you are. No matter what we do, you just stand there and take it. Useless excuse for a human, why don't you learn your place and just… go away."
"I'd love to," Taylor muttered, almost inaudibly. Her green eyes peered sideways at Sophia through long curls of messy hair, a look of stoic acceptance in them. "But you're in the way."
"What did you say to me,
sheep?" Sophia snarled, slamming her arm across the other girl's flat chest and pushing her across the locker room into the wall of metal doors with a loud bang. The other girls in the area, the ones who weren't simply smiling maliciously and videoing all this, looked at each other but didn't intervene. Which was entirely normal and the way it should be, of course.
"I said you're in the way or I'd leave," Taylor repeated, not defiantly but with a sort of leaden lack of interest or emotion that annoyed Sophia more than outright hostility would have. The fucking girl just
took it. No matter what they came up with, she just stood there and let them do it, sighed faintly if she made any response at all, then walked off. It was unbelievably irritating and completely inexplicable. After the first few months,
nothing they did got a rise out of her at all. The level of patience was inhuman, except that in Sophia's mind it was more lack of intelligence and any ability to fight back than anything else.
Proving, of course, that Hebert wasn't worth anything. She was a useful object lesson to keep the other sheep in line, and for some reason Emma was fixated on her too, but other than that Sophia couldn't think of a single thing about the girl that was even remotely memorable or interesting. She was all bones and sinew, skinny and attenuated to the point that she was barely even a girl to begin with.
Sophia raised a hand and slowly and deliberately curled it into a fist, drawing it back. Green eyes flicked to it, then back to her face, but nothing in the face she was staring at showed anything other than resignation. "Getting mouthy there, Hebert," she warned, fixing her own eyes on the other girl's. "That's liable to get you hurt."
Taylor simply waited. Several of the onlookers were talking quietly to each other, making bets on how many teeth Sophia could knock out with one punch, until the shorter girl looked warningly over her shoulder at them and they abruptly quieted. She returned her attention to Taylor, who hadn't moved. After a moment, she lowered her fist. "I don't get you, Hebert," she finally said almost admiringly, although with anger too. "You don't even
try to fight back. Not that it would help, but… I just don't get it. Why do you just stand there?" She was genuinely curious in a very frustrated way.
Taylor seemed to examine her face for a moment, then shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter," she said quietly.
"What are you talking about?" Sophia demanded, feeling yet again that there was something weird about the girl.
"All this, it doesn't matter," Taylor replied, flicking her eyes from side to side, pausing on Emma's face next to Sophia for a brief moment, then locking eyes with the girl still pinning her in place. "Eventually school will end. I'll never see you again. It doesn't matter. All I have to do is wait."
Sophia punched her in the gut. Taylor winced, but only briefly, then her face went back to the passive acceptance that drove Sophia completely around the bend.
"You think you're smart, Hebert?" she hissed, leaning close to the taller girl, annoyed that even though Taylor was slouching, she still had to go up on tiptoe to get their faces near each other. "You think you can just stand there and tell me I don't matter?" She punched her again, harder. "You don't get to say what matters and what doesn't."
Madison, somewhere behind Sophia, made a little noise that meant she was about to say something stupid. "Shut it, Madison," Sophia snapped without taking her gaze from Hebert's. After a moment, she punched Taylor a third time, then when there was no reaction at all, snarled in disgust and stepped back, lowering her arms. "I'd almost respect you for taking that if you weren't so… so… fucking
passive," she complained with her hands on her hips. "Any
normal person would fight back, or duck, or
something."
Taylor's right hand came up and rubbed where Sophia had hit her, although her face didn't change in the slightest. "Proportionate response," she almost whispered. Sophia looked at Emma, who shrugged, then stared at their target.
"What?"
"Dad always says the response needs to be proportionate, and it's best to avoid conflict," Taylor replied, very slightly more loudly, as she bent down and retrieved her stained backpack from where Madison had tossed it a few minutes earlier. "And this isn't worth fighting over. Are we done now?"
Sophia, more puzzled now than anything, simply watched as the girl slipped around the bystanders who all just stood there, then disappeared out the door. After a moment, she shook her head, turning to Emma and saying, "We need to step things up. She's got to have a breaking point
somewhere."
Emma smiled nastily. "I've got some ideas," her friend said in a tone of voice that made Madison look worried, although Sophia matched the evil grin.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"ENOUGH!"
Kaiser slammed his hand on the table, causing the argument to suddenly stop. Into the silence of the room, he spoke loudly but with assurance. "No. We will
not get involved in this. There is too much at stake. The entire plan relies on..."
"Oh, shut up," Hookwolf snarled, glaring at him. "I'm tired of listening to your shit. The plan, the fucking plan! All you do is talk about
'the plan' and look all superior, but we never
do anything. The chinks just keep on doing whatever and you never let us do what we should do and wipe them out."
"Because, if you didn't notice,
Brad," the E88 leader growled back, emphasizing the name,
"They have Lung. Until we find a way to deal with him
properly we can't risk pushing into ABB territory. Sure, we
might get lucky and win, but win or lose there will be so much damage the PRT
can't ignore it. We'll end up with the Triumvirate breathing down our neck, and I for one don't want Alexandria looking for me with blood in her eye. I'm not an idiot. Public relations are key and indiscriminate damage will harm the cause just as much in our case as it would for
them. So shut up, sit down, and listen to me."
"NO!" The man stood, leaning on his fists on the table and looking around at the others, then back to Max. "I've listened to you, and listened to you, and fucking
listened to you. Nothing ever changes. The niggers and the kikes and the chinks run around this city like they have a right to exist, and the
real people,
us, just
let them! I've had enough of this. It's time we did something about it, something that teaches the subhumans what we can do once and for all. We're the Empire! We rule this city!"
Max stared at him, then slowly shook his head. "You're losing it, Hookwolf. Calm down before you say something that you regret."
"The only thing I regret is listening to you all this time," the other man growled. "And I'm done with that. I'm going to do what should have been done years ago and make it clear to the scum that we are in charge and there's nothing that they can do about it. Who's with me?" He looked around at the core E88 members, all the Parahumans the gang had. The others, who had been listening to the two men shout at each other for the last half hour as the meeting had devolved into chaos, exchanged glances, some gleeful, some wary. After a moment, Krieg said, "Hookwolf has a point, Kaiser. We're letting the lower orders get away with far too much recently. The Undersiders made a mockery of us only last week and we couldn't stop them. That doesn't look good, and we need to do something about it."
Kaiser pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten under his breath. "It was a minor theft and we lost nothing worth the effort of chasing those idiots around the city for hours," he finally replied. "Sooner or later they'll slip up and we'll get them, or someone else will, but it would look much worse if we tried and
failed to catch them than if we just ignore trivial shit like that. We come off looking much stronger if we just smile knowingly and let them go…"
"So you said but I'm not convinced," Krieg said, interrupting him mid word.
"I don't care if you're convinced or not, I say we ignore them right now. We have more important things to work on." Kaiser fixed the other man with his best glare, but was annoyed to see it didn't seem to be working this time.
"Again, I'm not sure that's right. I think Brad is correct, we need to do something to show that we're not pushovers, or sooner or later people will stop being respectful. If that happens, we're going to have bigger problems."
"Look, I know what I'm doing, and
there is a plan. If you go off half-cocked and do something sufficiently stupid to attract the wrong sort of attention you risk wrecking years of work!" Kaiser shouted, losing his cool once more in the face of the unexpected obstinacy of his underlings, which had blown up practically from nowhere.
"That's what
you say," Brad yelled back, his face red. "But you're wrong. You're just a coward."
There was dead silence in the room. Everyone looked at Hookwolf, then at Kaiser. Several of them seemed worried, but more concerning was the fact that a few looked like they agreed with his subordinate.
"What did you say?" Max asked carefully.
"I said you're a coward," Brad repeated, folding his arms across his chest. "You don't have what it takes to make the Empire strong again."
"And I suppose you think you do?" Kaiser asked skeptically, an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah. I do. And I'm going to, with or without you."
After a couple of seconds, Max sat down again and picked up his wineglass, sipping it while inspecting the other man over the rim. Putting it down, he replied, "You're going to fuck things up beyond belief and set the cause back a decade,
that's what you're going to do."
Brad clenched and unclenched his fists, obviously on the verge of lunging at Max, but somehow and rather uncharacteristically controlled himself, instead turning to the rest of the group. He waved a hand at their leader. "He's a coward. I'm not. Who wants to do what we should have done years ago, who wants to come with me and show this city that the true way,
our way, is how things get done around here?"
Max watched their faces too. He knew before anyone replied that he'd lost Krieg. That wasn't a surprise, the man was a true believer, and was always itching for a fight to show off the glory of '
the cause.' Stormtiger too was clearly on Hookwolf's side, looking eager to do something violent. He was a pain in the ass, far too quick to jump into battle when it would be better to evaluate the situation. Unusually, Cricket, who often sided with the man, seemed dubious, studying Brad and the rest with a reserved expression.
Rune was looking worried and clearly was unlikely to follow Hookwolf's lead. The girl wasn't really invested in the group and it was only family connections and her innate desire to belong to something that kept her here. Alabaster, while at least as much a believer as Krieg, was also sufficiently intelligent to know full well that this wasn't going to end well and was obviously going to sit it out, which was good.
The twins watched Brad for a moment, then looked at Max, who shrugged very slightly. Both nodded and he knew that they were loyal to him.
The one he was worried about was Victor. The man was very useful, his power remarkably effective, but he was also someone who liked fighting far too much and while he was no idiot, he tended to jump into things without thinking them through quite as carefully as he should have. He'd been complaining for days about the Undersider'sraid on one of their operations, taking it far too personally, and it seemed likely that he'd take this opportunity to do something about it. And of course if he went with Hookwolf, that most likely meant his wife would too, which would be a disaster as Othala was in some ways the most valuable member of his team.
The woman was watching her husband cautiously and with nearly as much worry in her eyes as Rune was showing. He caught her gaze and raised an eyebrow, Othala looking back with an expression of apology.
"I'm in," Krieg said, standing up. He looked at Max. "Sorry, Kaiser, but Hookwolf is right. We need to step up and make people know we're the most powerful group in the city. Reputation is everything and ours isn't what it should be."
"You will destroy everything we've worked for," Max growled, right on the verge of
really losing his temper and making an example of them. The only thing that was stopping him was the knowledge that if he did he'd end up in a fight he might not come off best in with Brad. The others, he could take easily, but Hookwolf was no pushover and was obviously waiting for him to make a move too.
"Or we will
succeed where you haven't," James replied almost too calmly. "And perhaps then you will admit that you're wrong and we're right."
Sitting back in his chair, Max sipped more wine, keeping his temper under control with enormous effort and striving to radiate an air of serene disapproval. "I highly doubt the first and as a result doubt the second. This can only end badly. I urge all of you to reconsider what you're..."
"Fuck off, Max," Brad shouted, punching the table hard enough to leave a scar which was going to be a bitch to polish out. "You talk and talk and nothing really changes.
WE are going to
act for once." He looked around at the others who seemed inclined to follow him, a couple of whom were nodding. "Come on, guys, let's go and save our city from the underclasses, do what we should have done years ago." Straightening up he turned and stalked towards the exit, Krieg and Stormtiger falling into place behind him. Alabaster, who hadn't said a thing during the entire argument, rose and accompanied the others without a backward glance, while Victor looked between the departing quartet and Max, who stared at him, then eventually shrugged and went after them. His wife seemed even more worried but reluctantly followed, mouthing "
Sorry," to Max as she did.
"What do you intend to do?" Max asked as Brad reached the door and wrenched it open, only showing mild curiosity in his voice.
Hookwolf stopped and looked over his shoulder, an ugly grin on his face. "Watch the news and find out," he spat, then disappeared out the exit, four more of Max's people going with him. When the door closed behind them Max sat there for nearly thirty seconds, motionless, until he grabbed his wineglass and viciously threw it at the far wall.
"Fucking
idiots!" he screamed, making everyone left twitch. Rune looked terrified and shrank into her seat while Cricket nodded silently. The twins exchanged glances before getting up and moving to stand next to Max, one on either side.
"What do we do now?" Jess asked.
Breathing hard, Max tried to calm himself. "We make plans for the inevitable backlash, contact a few people who need to know about this, and wait," he finally said with a loud sigh. "Fucking idiots," he repeated again under his breath as he stood.
The next few hours were complicated and highly annoying, but by the end of the day he'd managed to do everything he thought required to avoid the Empire entirely splintering. About fifty or so normals had followed Hookwolf, mostly only the ones who regularly worked with him, but slightly to his own surprise the bulk of his group had apparently decided it was better to stick with what they knew rather than whatever fool idea it was that the other man had in mind. He'd changed all the access codes and keys to everything he could think of, which would at least stop the idiots depleting all his resources in their attempt to fuck everything up as fast as possible. He had little doubt that the end result of this rebellion was going to be bad.
On the other hand, if he was careful, and made sure that the official backlash when it came was aware that whatever happened was against his wishes and orders, it might still possibly work out in his favor. And who knew? They might actually get lucky and off Lung or something, although he highly doubted it. Much more likely was that they simply caused carnage far past the level where ideology would allow those who would otherwise be sympathetic to the cause to overlook it. That was bad, but not necessarily entirely unrecoverable.
He just had to take the right precautions. Which led him here, to his private office and an encrypted phone that was, in theory, entirely untraceable.
Alone, he stared at the thing on his desk for several minutes before picking it up and dialing a number he'd had for years but never used before. The other end rang twice before it was answered.
"Piggot," the woman who was a perpetual thorn in his side said in a rather brusque manner.
"Director Piggot, a pleasure," he said as smoothly as he could. There was a long pause.
"Kaiser," she spat.
"How did you get my private number?"
"Ah, I have many resources, Director," he replied, smiling a little at the outrage in her voice. "As I'm sure you do."
"What the fuck do you want?" she demanded, sounding even more annoyed.
"Straight to business, then. I admire that." He smirked at the snort he got. "I merely wanted to pass on, discreetly and deniably you understand, that there has been something of a… schism… in my little social group. This may in days to come have consequences that neither of us desire."
She didn't say anything for a few seconds, then growled,
"So you've got some of your people who have slipped your leash, I assume you're trying to say?"
"Elegantly put, Director." He was almost enjoying winding her up.
"Why tell me?" she asked, her voice betraying that she was probably wanting to reach down the phone and strangle him in his chair.
"Because this has the potential to cause problems for everyone," he replied slowly. "We disagree on almost everything, I have little doubt, and I won't insult your intelligence by trying to persuade you to see things from my viewpoint. But neither of us truly wishes complete anarchy, which may be, unfortunately, what my former colleagues are planning. I merely wanted to make sure that you were aware that should the current… detente… crumble, it is not due to the actions of the Empire or myself."
The pause this time was long enough that he was wondering if she was going to hang up. He could hear her breathing but that was all. Most likely she was also trying to get his call traced, which was sensible but shouldn't be possible if his supplier was to be believed. Eventually, she said in a disgusted tone,
"Who left?"
"Hookwolf, Stormtiger, Alabaster, Krieg, Victor, and Othala, I'm sorry to say."
"Fuck. It would be those ones." After a moment she snorted with near humor.
"Losing Othala must be awkward for you."
"I can't deny it's less than ideal," he agreed with a scowl, almost despite himself.
"Yeah. And is going to fuck up this city even more than you and your friends normally do," she grumbled.
"Fine. Assuming that this is true, and believe me we're going to check, I will pass it up the chain. Don't think that it buys you any credit with me though."
"I would never presume to think such a thing, Director," he replied, smiling to himself. "I assure you that I bear you no more love than you do me. I merely don't want myself and my loyal friends to reap the rewards of the idiocy of those who aren't wise enough to realize that some things take time and care..."
"Can the speech, Kaiser," she interrupted him, still sounding furious but almost somehow amused too.
"I've heard it before and it's still bullshit. But if you are telling the truth, as unlikely as that is, there's a chance that whatever they do won't bring the wrath of the Triumvirate down on you in response. This time."
"That's all I desire, my dear Director," he told her earnestly, having more fun than he'd expected. "Until next time, then."
She hung up without replying and he put the phone down, grinning a little. The grin faded as he thought about what his former associates might get up to with someone like Hookwolf making the plans.
Nothing good, he was certain of that. Not even by his standards, and despite what many would say, he did have them.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Did you hear about what happened last night over near Marine Park?" Madison looked up at Julia, who appeared worried. Before she could reply, her friend went on, "The E88 burned down two apartment buildings and shot anyone who tried to get out. They even shot at the fire department when they turned up. My dad said that two firemen were killed and a cop too. And they're still pulling bodies out of the buildings."
"Yeah, I saw it on the news before school," Madison replied when the other girl fell silent, nervously playing with her scarf and giving everyone in the corridor who looked even slightly like a racist gang member suspicious looks. There were quite a few people who met the description, but Madison noted that many of them looked at least as confused as everyone else. The level of violence that the Empire had suddenly shown in the last two days was way out of the ordinary in her experience.
Luckily none of it had come this far across town yet, but she was worried that it might. No one wanted to see Hookwolf coming down the street on a
good day and right now he seemed to be in a shitty mood even for him.
"What if they attack here?" Julia whispered, peering about in worry. "Or in my neighborhood? There are a lot of minorities around where I live."
"Even the E88 isn't going to attack a
school, are they?" Madison said after a moment of silence. Rather hopefully if she was honest with herself. "I mean that'll get them a kill order, right? Attacking kids?"
"Hookwolf
already has a Birdcage sentence and he's still out there," Julia moaned. "I don't think a kill order as well will stop him."
They looked at each other in silence for a few seconds, then the bell for first period went and Madison shut her locker, following the other girl into the nearby classroom and wondering if she was actually right.
She was so worried that she didn't even bother to prank Hebert when the girl walked in a few moments later, huddled into her hoodie as she normally was, her lack of fashion sense showing in the old jeans and worn leather boots she clumped around in. After giving her a dead-eyed look that if she was totally honest with herself she found somewhat creepy, the tall skinny girl slumped behind her desk and ignored everyone entirely.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Officer Jenkins keyed up his radio with one hand while ducking behind a wall as bullets pinged off the concrete. His other hand held his service weapon, with which he fired a couple of shots back blindly, trying to suppress the shooters. All it really did was attract even more rounds his way. "Fuck," he shouted. "Sarge, I'm pinned down over here. They got Greggs, he's dead. I can't get to the heavy weapons in the car."
Releasing the transmit button he held the radio to his ear, barely able to hear the response over the roar of gunfire and the shrieks of terrified bystanders as they ran for their lives. "Say again, Sarge?" he said when the crackling voice stopped.
"I said, fall back to Wilson and Fourth, we're pulling out. The PRT are on the way, leave it to them," his immediate superior said, his voice almost unrecognizable through the static and background noise.
Jenkins stood motionless for a moment, then nodded to himself with resignation. It was probably the best thing. The Empire lunatics, or if rumor was correct, the breakaway faction of the Empire, were clearly out to cause as much trouble as possible and were way past the level the cops could handle without some serious firepower. And that wasn't even considering their capes. He'd personally seen Stormtiger kill at least four of his coworkers, as well as half a dozen random citizens who were in the wrong place and were the wrong color.
He glanced at his hand and almost snorted with black humor. Just like him.
"Goddamn Nazis," he snarled, "Someone should have wiped them out years ago."
"Roger," he added into the radio. "Falling back." Clipping it back onto his belt he quickly swapped out a fresh magazine, his last, for the part-depleted one in the pistol then took one quick last look around his cover since the shooting in his direction seemed to have died down a little. He could hear a lot of screaming and shouting coming from nearby and when he cautiously peered around the pitted concrete of the wall, spotted Stormtiger attacking one of the tenement buildings that a lot of the less well off in this area lived in. It was on fire already, and as he watched he saw the villainous cape blow a hole in one of the walls with his air blade attack. The asshole was laughing as he took aim at some terrified people who came running out of the burning building.
Feeling almost numb with fury, Jenkins moved a little further out from the wall, took very careful aim, and fired three times. He smiled grimly as the villain dropped, half his head missing. "One down," he whispered to himself as he dived back into cover, then ran for it. "That's for you, Jeff."
He hoped that someone else would be able to deal with the rest of the crazed fascists, but at least no matter what else happened he could be sure he'd helped in some small way. Even as he ran he could hear the PRT sirens approaching from the opposite direction, and wondered if they'd be any more successful than his own people had been.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"We need to pull out, Victor. We're losing this."
Krieg pointed further down the street to where pretty much the entire Protectorate ENE and a significant number of PRT troopers were engaged in battle with Hookwolf and twenty or so of their own troops. Bullets whined overhead from the opposing forces, the sharper crack of Miss Militia's rifle sounding over the hammering of automatic weapons on both sides. The PRT had long since given up with confoam, possibly having run out. Mounds of the off-white goop were all over the area, some with body parts sticking out.
"We've lost at least twenty five of our troops and Stormtiger. Even Hookwolf can't take on the entire PRT and Protectorate himself," he added, moving into cover as a rogue RPG round blasted past and blew up on the side of a building a hundred yards away. The man who'd fired it as he dropped after being shot by someone writhed in pain on the street for a few seconds then lay still. "If nothing else they've got more ammo than we do. We need to pull out and regroup, rearm, and figure out our next move."
Victor, who was kneeling next to his wife Othala and bandaging her upper arm where a round had grazed it, glanced back at him and after a moment nodded agreement. "Fine. You're right. They got here too soon, their response time's improved. The cops slowed us down as well."
"And probably killed Storm Tiger," Krieg growled. "Lucky shot, or on purpose, I don't know, but we'll find whoever did it and deal with them."
"Later. Now, we need to go." Victor stood, helping Othala to her feet, then guided her back to where a number of stolen vans waited. Half a dozen of their troops were guarding them. "You, sound the retreat," he snapped to one of the skinheaded young men next to the van he stopped at as he opened the door to let his wife climb in.
The man nodded and pulled out an air horn, which he let off several long blasts on. The sound echoed around the entire area, clearly audible even over the cacophony of battle. Moments later another air horn replied, then the remaining loyal members of their faction started to pull back, firing madly to cover their retreat. One of the other guards took a rocket launcher that had been on the floor of the van he was next to, put a round into it, and fired it down the street at the Protectorate forces. It exploded on one of the PRT troop carriers and nearly tipped the heavily armored vehicle over, before it rocked back upright.
Everyone nearby ducked at the blast and the momentary pause in shooting allowed most of their remaining forces to escape. A couple dropped, one from Miss Militia again, one from something Armsmaster fired at him, but sixteen surviving troops dashed around the corner and joined them. Krieg could hear Hookwolf howling in fury and further covering their retreat, while wondering if the man would actually follow them or just allow his blood lust to take over.
Within thirty seconds all the vans were loaded and they were rapidly leaving the area having dropped a dozen smoke grenades to obscure their departure. James spotted Hookwolf charging out of the smoke moments later, following them at speed.
"They won't take long to come after us," he pointed out.
"Yeah, I know," Victor replied, looking back as well. "The explosives might slow them down for a while with some luck."
"What explosives?" Krieg asked after a moment. The other man held up a remote detonator, then flipped the guard up with his thumb and pressed the button. A series of loud blasts came from behind them and when James peered back he could see half the front of one of the apartment buildings almost gracefully collapsing across the street through the thinning smoke.
He gaped, then stared at Victor, who shrugged. "Always useful to have insurance."
They bumped fists, before trying to work out the best way to go. Even as they were hastily making plans, the PRT sirens slowly began to grow louder again.
"We need some leverage," Victor finally said, holding on as the van tilted when it rounded a corner far too fast.
"How?" Krieg asked.
The other man pointed at something ahead of them. He followed the finger, before smiling slightly.
"Excellent idea."
Victor leaned forward and thumped the driver on the shoulder. "Take the next right," he ordered. The man glanced back, then looked forward, before nodding. Seconds later all four vehicles roared through the entrance of Winslow High School, Hookwolf bringing up the rear.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Hearing a screeching of tires accompanied by engines revving, Emma craned her neck to look out the window of the classroom, which was on the second floor of the school overlooking the front entrance and the car parking area out there. Her eyes widened as four big vans shot through the gates, one of them hitting one set of the open metal work and ripping it entirely off the wall, then sending it cartwheeling across the pitted concrete. She, along with half a dozen other students who were also looking, gaped as the van slewed sideways and nearly rolled before dropping back onto all four wheels and braking hard, steam pouring from the crushed front. All the doors opened disgorging about eight skinheads who appeared to be carrying weapons.
"Holy
shit!" she yelped, horrified. Mr Gladly apparently only then noticed something was wrong, having been facing the board and talking mostly to himself about something she couldn't be bothered to listen too. He looked over his shoulder, opened his mouth to speak, then caught sight of the scene outside. Still holding the whiteboard marker he went over to the window and peered out, half the class jumping to their feet in a screech of chairs being shoved back then clustering around the other windows.
"Oh Christ," he whispered, as the questions from her fellow students wondering what was going on suddenly stopped as something even worse than armed men appearing from nowhere followed the vans into the school entrance.
"That's…
that's Hookwolf!" Madison, who was standing next to Emma, squeaked, her face bone white. Emma numbly nodded, feeling a sensation of her stomach ending up in her shoes.
"And that's Alabaster," a voice behind and above her stated with a weird sort of quiet calmness, a voice she knew all too well. "Along with Victor, Othala, and Krieg." Taylor leaned forward a little, as Emma stared at her. Sophia at the next window was doing the same, so were some of the others, but most people were still looking in a horror-struck manner out at the scene while the other three vans emptied out, a total of somewhere around twenty five or so people in total plus five Empire capes gathering just outside the school.
"What do they want?" Julia quavered.
"Hostages," Sophia replied grimly as she watched Hookwolf point at the school, a dozen of the men along with Victor nodding then heading their way rapidly. The rest of the unwelcome visitors arranged themselves around the vehicles, even as Hookwolf, enlarging his Changer form in a nightmarish manner, ran to the wrecked one and shoved it in front of the school entrance with a screech of metal that could be heard easily even through the closed window. Sirens could be heard getting closer, both the cops and the PRT ones. Emma had heard them earlier, far in the distance, along with some faint gunshots, but that was more or less background noise in Brockton Bay.
What was in front of them was much more than background noise.
Most of the people present jumped when they heard gunshots from far too close, just downstairs somewhere. Quite a lot of screaming ensued as half the class dived for any hiding place, while the other half dashed towards the door. Emma was in the first group, finding herself sharing space under one of the desks with Madison who was shaking violently in terror.
Peering out she saw Taylor was looking out the window still, then the skinny form of her former best friend turned and walked back, pausing to listen for a moment before taking a seat at her desk. Emma stared, wondering what the fuck the lanky idiot thought she was doing. Sophia was peering over the windowsill, looking back at the door occasionally, her face showing indecision mixed with anger and worry. She met Emma's eyes for a moment, an unspoken message going between them. Emma wondered if she'd use her powers to escape, or call the PRT or something, and tried to convey that question. Her friend shrugged slightly, before dropping to the floor as shooting started outside with no warning.
The window she'd been looking out of shattered, showering glass all over the floor, as almost everyone in the room screamed in shock. Even Mr Gladly, who vanished under his desk.
The crowd of students at the door who had been peering out, someone having yanked it open, suddenly scattered as more shots came from somewhere downstairs. Greg, who had stuck his head out, yanked it back as he rolled sideways, his face pale and sweaty. "They're coming up the stairs," he gasped, scuttling on hands and knees across the floor to cower under a desk. Most of the other students did the same, Sparky having the unusual presence of mind to reach up, slam the door, and turn the lock which clicked loudly, before lunging for the blind over the window and yanking it down. He then nearly dived across the room to hide behind the cabinet at the back where textbooks were stored, as everyone watched in amazement. It was more initiative than anyone had ever seen out of him before.
Recalling the lockdown protocols that even Winslow tended to occasionally pass around, Emma hoped it would be enough. There was no way they could evacuate out the back, with armed lunatics stalking the corridors. By the sound of bursts of gunfire along with shouted orders from somewhere relatively near by she guessed that some of the other students or staff had tried exactly that, and she had a horrible feeling it hadn't gone to plan.
'
Shelter in place my ass,' she thought in despair. '
Make yourself a target, that's all that is.'
She'd have much preferred to be heading away from this fucking place as fast as possible, but everything had happened so fast the shock was still sinking in. No one expected the fucking E88 to just attack a school out of nowhere! Who did that? Crazy fuckers, that's who.
Oh. Right.
Fuck, she thought, listening to the sirens stop right outside, the sound deafening now that window was missing. More gunfire sounded, some far too close and by the sound right under the window, some fainter and presumably from the good guys. A second window shattered, making Gladly and some of the others scream again. She could hear praying coming from under some of the desks and wondered if it would help…
Probably not. Never seemed to work in the past.
Shouting outside in the corridor was accompanied by heavy boots tromping past the room, more screams coming from various places. Rough voices yelled orders, an occasional gunshot sounding off sharply and evincing more shrieks from all around.
The door rattled.
Everyone in the room froze and looked at it, going completely silent.
The handle shook a few times.
Then the door was violently kicked open, the latch ripping out of the cheap wood, and two skinheads strode in like they owned the place, grinning viciously. Each was holding a machine gun, and she could see pistols in holsters, with one of them having a couple of what looked like grenades hanging from his belt in cloth pouches. "Surprise!" this one shouted, waving his gun around. "Stay down and shut up if you know what's good for you. You, girl, on the floor now." He aimed his weapon at Hebert, who was watching them with the same sort of dull blankness she showed to Emma and the others when they were dealing with her.
Taylor wordlessly slipped from her chair and sat on the floor, her face not showing a trace of expression. The Empire asshole nodded in satisfaction. "Where's the teacher?" he demanded.
At least half the class looked at Gladly's desk. The man grinned, stomped over, shoved the desk to the side with a forceful heave, then looked down at the whimpering figure on the floor who peered back at him in horror.
Emma distinctly heard a trickling sound.
"Hi there," the Nazi said with a nasty sort of cheer. "You are now all our hostages. Don't try anything and you might live. You, on your feet." He prodded Gladly with his foot, not exactly gently. The shaking teacher slowly pulled himself erect, although he didn't look like he wanted to. His face was covered in beads of sweat and his pants were covered in something else.
She glanced at Sophia who was watching closely, but her friend's eyes met hers for a moment, showing the other girl was clearly torn on what to do.
The two skinheads conferred for a moment, the lead one still holding his gun on Gladly, who was staring at it like a rabbit in front of a wolf, then the other one pulled out a hand-held radio and spoke into it while he moved to look out the window, his body pressed to one side as he peered cautiously out. From her position on the floor Emma couldn't see anything other than sky, but the noise suggested half the cops in the state were out there along with god knew how many PRT people and capes.
It had only been about five minutes now since her world went sideways, she realized as she looked at the clock over the door. People were still screaming in classrooms all around them, but the sounds were diminishing, the occasional shot sounding off which made her wonder who'd died.
"OK, guys and girls, here's how it's going to work," the first skinhead stated as he turned in place, looking at all of them. "You are our guests and our guarantee that the fucking PRT stays away, got me? We don't need all of you, so if you're minded to resist, well…" He patted his gun in a somewhat offputting manner, his creepy grin showing he would have no compunction about using it. Every time he looked at one of the students who wasn't white, his grin got even creepier, and Emma got the distinct impression he was thinking about doing something horrible.
Sophia was glaring at him and when he met her gaze, he scowled. "What are you looking at, bitch?" He aimed his gun at her. "Show some respect, got me?"
"Yeah," she muttered, lowering her eyes. Emma wondered what her friend was going to do and when. She was a cape, she could take these idiots!
But Sophia didn't move, she just sat there under her desk and stewed in impotent rage.
The second gang member had another short conversation on the radio, apparently counting something outside, then nodded as a crackling response sounded, Emma unable to hear it properly. Making sure to avoid exposing himself he moved to the door and left the room, after brief word with the first asshole, who half sat on one of the desks and kept watching everyone.
Gladly was still standing like a stuffed figure looking like he was petrified with fear, and everyone else was wondering what would happen next. Emma wasn't thinking that whatever it was would be good.
"Hookwolf!" an amplified voice sounded, echoing around the school. It was vaguely familiar, Emma thought. "Surrender immediately or there will be trouble. You've crossed a line this time."
"Fucking Armsmaster," the skinhead mumbled as he glanced quickly out, then moved to a position where he could see but not be easily seen. "Thinks that'll do anything? He doesn't know Hookwolf." The man was more talking to himself than them, but no one could do anything other than watch and listen. He was caressing his weapon in a frankly disturbing manner, as if he could hardly wait to use it.
"No chance, Armsbastard!" a rough voice shouted loudly from outside. "We're the ones calling the shots. All of you back off or we start shooting kids."
"We can't do that, Hookwolf, you know that," Armsmaster replied immediately, sounding furious. "If you don't surrender immediately we will be forced to use lethal measures. If you kill any of the students or staff you
will get a kill order placed upon you. Director Piggot is ready and willing to execute that right now. This is the only warning you're going to get."
Laughter came to their ears. When it died down, Hookwolf replied, "You're really not much fucking good at this, man.
We have the power here, not you. I guess you need a demonstration." The radio the skinhead was holding crackled a few seconds later and he lifted it to his ear to listen, while everyone in the classroom tried to hear what the message was. A shot somewhere close by was immediately followed by screaming, then a couple more shots, making everyone whip their heads around. Moments afterwards shouts came from outside, then they heard footsteps approaching in the corridor. A tallish blond guy in a mask, who Emma immediately recognized from seeing his photo on PHO, entered and walked over to the skinhead. He had a massive gun slung over his shoulder, and several more weapons arrayed on his body.
'Oh, god, that's Victor,' she thought in terror. The Empire cape looked at the minion, then Gladly, before motioning with his head sharply. The goon just casually nodded and turned, their teacher not even having time to raise his hands before the bastard shot him right in the face.
No one could even manage a scream as the body toppled to the floor, blood spraying across Sophia who was nearest while Gladly twitched a couple of times and was still. "Oh my god," Julia whimpered before she passed out. Sophia was staring in shock, and several of the other students also fainted. Emma nearly followed them, but somehow remained conscious. The murderous skinhead slung his gun behind him, then squatted down, stuck his hands in Gladly's armpits, heaved him up, and with some difficulty shoved his remains out the window.
It was quiet enough that everyone inside heard the thud a moment later.
A couple more shots came from around the school, making Emma pretty sure the same scene had repeated itself elsewhere. A sort of stunned silence fell both inside and out, as even the cops and PRT were apparently shocked by the sheer brutality of the murders.
After a few more seconds, Hookwolf's voice shouted, "That's eight so far. We've got about a thousand more if you want to try us. Or you can back off while we think about what we want you to do. Your choice."
A long pause was broken by Armsmaster replying, sounding absolutely furious in a cold way, "You won't get away with this, Hookwolf."
"Wanna bet?"
The Nazi's voice was triumphant.
Another pause, then the noise of several engines starting could be heard. Vehicles moved away, the sounds growing fainter, but listening carefully through ears that were still ringing from the skinhead's shooting, Emma thought they'd probably stopped a few hundred yards away. Maybe around the corner out of sight of the school?
Surely they hadn't abandoned them to the Nazis?
She felt sick, and was only remaining aware by telling herself that like Sophia, she was a predator and would come out of this OK. Somehow.
Sophia, when she looked at her, didn't look all that confident though. She was still staring at the blood on the floor where Gladly had fallen.
"They're not going to give up yet," Victor remarked in a low voice to his compatriot, who looked at him, then back out the window. "We'll probably have to encourage them some more sooner or later. But it gives us breathing room for the moment."
Out of the corner of her eye Emma noticed Taylor reach down and scratch her leg just above her right boot, the girl not looking away from the two Nazis. When she'd dealt with the itch, she put both hands back into her hoodie pockets, where she'd had them since she sat on the floor. Not paying much attention Emma kept watching the pair, and listening, as everyone else was also doing.
Both men kept watch outside the window, occasionally glancing back at the students warningly, which was hardly necessary as everyone was paralyzed by fear. Heavy footsteps passed in the corridor as another of the invaders walked by, then diminished down the hallway towards the rear of the building, by the sound of it going down the stairs. Probably to guard the rear, she guessed. She wondered just how many of these fuckers were inside the school now.
Victor's radio made a noise, prompting him to hold it to his ear, then quietly reply, too faintly for her to make anything much out other than a few words which didn't mean much to her. Clipping it back to his vest he unshouldered the massive sniper rifle he had and fiddled with it, before resting it on the windowsill and kneeling behind it, then peering through the scope at some distant target.
A few seconds passed in silence as he panned it slowly from side to side, then he said to the skinhead, "Two observers two blocks away, roof of Grant building, and third floor of the abandoned warehouse on Sixth. No weapons visible."
The man repeated this into his own radio, getting a staticky reply, which made Victor grunt. He kept watch, but didn't seem inclined to pull the trigger yet. Eventually he nodded to himself, before pulling the weapon back into the room and laying it on the floor. He looked up at the windows, then stood, reaching up to pull the blind down and nodding to the other man to repeat the process on the other windows. "No sense letting them see what we're doing," he commented as he turned around to face the class. The skinhead chuckled, walking past Emma to look out the door, which he then closed.
"I guess we wait for now?"
"Yeah. Gotta talk to Hookwolf and Krieg. We've got a plan, but it's going to need some care." Victor shrugged as he bent and picked up his weapon, inspecting it briefly then slinging the thing over his shoulder again.
"Are you going to kill all of us?" a voice unexpectedly asked, making both Nazis and the rest of the students all turn their heads to see Taylor studying Victor with a sort of dead mild interest, her voice completely flat.
He looked back at her with an eyebrow up, then smiled slightly. "Probably not
all of you, Miss," he replied, glancing at Sophia and a couple of the other non-white students in a rather meaningful manner. One of them closed his eyes and appeared to be praying, although Emma for the life of her couldn't recall his name. This seemed to amuse Victor based on his expression. "So keep calm and don't cause trouble."
"Was it necessary to murder those people?" the tall skinny girl queried, still sounding weirdly passive about it. He looked at her for a few moments, apparently a little puzzled, either at her tone or her lack of any apparent real interest in the whole situation.
"Yeah, actually, it was," he shrugged after a while. "They're more use to us dead than alive, you see."
"interesting," she commented, her expression not changing. "Nazis don't value life then?"
"We value the right
sort of life, miss," Victor replied.
"Mostly yours, I assume?"
The skinhead snorted, almost grinning. Victor smiled a little.
"You could put it that way. But I doubt this is the best time to explain our ideology, and I've got quite a lot of things to do, so you just stay there and keep your head down while we handle the cops, OK?" He looked around at the rest. "That goes for all of you. Don't fuck around and we
probably won't need to do something about it. Yet." He smirked, the skinhead chuckling, then both of them moved to the door. Everyone watched as the skinhead pulled it open, wondering what would happen next.
A quiet whisper of cloth on cloth made Emma glance sideways, seeing to her amazement and shock that Taylor had stood up, unfolding from the floor in a gangly manner that still seemed oddly graceful. Her hands were still in her pockets. And her face was still entirely blank.
Victor apparently heard her, looking back, then scowling as he turned around. "I said don't fuck around. This is fucking around. Sit down."
Taylor looked at him, then deliberately turned her head to meet Sophia's eyes, the other girl watching her with an odd expression. Emma was wondering what her former friend was thinking.
"Proportionate response," she almost whispered.
"What the hell does that mean?" Victor demanded, taking a step forward. The skinhead moved past him, to the side of Taylor, who ignored him, looking like he was about to either grab her or punch her.
Taylor removed her right hand from her pocket, then…
"Holy
fuck!" Greg yipped in shock. No one else could even manage that. They just stared at the glittering shard of steel that had somehow sprouted out of Victor's throat a fraction of a second after Taylor had made a sharp gesture with her hand. The cape's eyes were wide in horror as he reached up to his neck. She made another yanking gesture, the metallic object ripping loose in a spray of blood that arced across the room, leaving a trail up the wall and over the ceiling. Emma gaped in total stunned surprise as she watched what seemed to be some sort of razor-sharp triangular blade on an almost invisibly thin line whirl through the air as Taylor turned slightly, her arm moving down and across.
The blade neatly sliced across the face of the skinhead while he was staring at Victor in disbelief, the man emitting a choked scream that transitioned to a grunt as the tall skinny girl whirled on her left foot, the right coming up to slam into his throat hard enough that everyone heard a crunch. Pirouetting in a manner that suddenly reminded Emma that Taylor had learned ballet for years from her mom, the girl ended up standing in front of the skinhead who was staggering backwards, trying to breathe and grasping at his crushed throat.
Victor was now on his knees with his own hands trying to hold his blood in, red gushing from between his fingers.
The blade on a line spun through the air as Taylor almost danced, making a sound like an angry wasp, which terminated in a flat
thwock as it buried itself in Victor's forehead. He went completely still, then fell flat on his face. Before he'd hit the ground, Taylor's left hand came out of her pocket holding a much more normal looking knife, which ended up through the right eye of the skinhead.
Total silence followed the thump of the second body hitting the floor.
Every single eye in the room was fixed on Taylor, who wasn't even breathing hard, and
still had a completely blank expression.
But when she turned her head to meet Emma's eyes, then Sophia's, the sheer burning
rage in them made both girls flinch.
It had taken about five seconds at most for Taylor to kill both men, Emma thought numbly.
"Jesus Christ," Greg muttered, sounding completely stunned and utterly confused, as well as totally terrified.
"This
does matter," Taylor remarked quietly directly to Sophia, who was gaping, her face showing the sort of disbelief someone would express if they found their cat dragging a dead cow in through the cat flap.
Emma turned her head to stare at her friend, who looked back with a complex mix of emotions showing. When they looked back to Taylor, she was rummaging through the pockets of the two dead Nazis, collecting all their weapons and other equipment, which she put into her backpack after dumping all the contents on the floor. Putting it over her shoulders having zipped it up, she picked up Victor's sniper rifle, quite a feat as it probably weighed about twenty pounds, and examined it closely for a moment.
No one could think what to do as she removed the magazine and looked at the contents, before snapping it back in place with a degree of expertise that confused Emma a lot. They just stared at the girl walked over to the window and carefully pulled the blind aside, then peered out. Moving from window to window she did the same, until finally nodding. Raising the blind just a little, she carefully stuck the muzzle out of the window and appeared to aim.
Emma barely managed to get her hands over her ears before Taylor pulled the trigger.
The boom of the massive weapon firing was
incredibly loud, making everyone flinch in shock. The blind nearly flew off the window from the shockwave, and the recoil pushed Taylor a foot backwards, although she'd been leaning forwards into the gun.
"WHAT THE FUCK HEBERT?" Sophia screamed as Taylor stepped back from the window, propping the sniper rifle on the wall, then unslung the machine gun she had hanging over her shoulder.
"Othala," the girl replied indifferently. Everyone, including Sophia, stared. "Without her they don't have a healer or a force multiplier." She wasn't looking at them, being occupied by putting new magazine on the machine gun. Cocking it, she ignored Sophia making odd noises and raised the weapon, moving to a position with a clear shot at the doorway.
Only about ten seconds later two skinheads slammed through the door, weapons raised, presumably coming to find out why Victor had shot one of their own people. Neither made it more than two steps into the room, the gun Taylor was holding going off in two bursts, which perforated them both in half a dozen places. Dropping to the floor they slid to a halt. She stepped calmly forward and took aim. Two more shots sounded.
Emma felt faint all over again.
Several more students passed out. Even Sophia looked somewhat gray.
Taylor looked about as bothered as she'd been in the locker room earlier, and Emma had the sudden thought that they'd been juggling live explosives for
months and hadn't had the faintest
idea what could have happened…
"Coming?" Taylor asked as she looted the new bodies for anything useful. Her pack now held enough weapons that Emma was surprised she could stand up. Walking past them she retrieved the huge rifle.
"What?" Sophia looked like she was having a major crisis with, well, everything. Emma couldn't blame her because she was wondering if she was dreaming herself…
"More of them will turn up sooner or later," Taylor commented, moving to the door and looking outside, then glancing back at Sophia. "And if they figure out you're a Ward, well…" She shrugged as Sophia paled, and everyone else still conscious stared at her with disbelief.
"How the… What?" Sophia managed. Taylor shrugged again.
"Of course I know, you idiot. No point making a fuss about it. Too much corruption here and in the PRT. But right now, you might come in handy. You might not. Stay or follow, I don't really care." She left the room after another quick glance both ways. The shouting outside that had started moments after she'd fired the huge gun was still going on, and Emma had a pretty shrewd idea that once the Empire thugs got over their shock they'd be coming to find out what was going on, and not in a mood to be merciful. Feeling lightheaded and in shock she stumbled to her feet and followed after Taylor, while wondering what the fuck was going on. Hearing footsteps behind her she looked back to see Sophia, Greg, Sparky, and several other students following like ducklings. Sophia still seemed to be trying to figure out what the hell was happening and not having much luck. Which was fair enough, really.
As they headed quietly up the stairs to the next floor, Greg whispered in awestruck tones, "How the fuck did you learn to do
that, Taylor? Are you a cape?"
The girl glanced back at him for a moment. She almost smiled, the first time her expression had shown anything other than passivity. "I'm not a cape, Greg. I just grew up surrounded by some very strange people," she replied as quietly. "I learned all sorts of interesting things. Never really had to use most of them until now though." She turned her gaze to Emma, who flinched, and Sophia who just gazed back, before returning her eyes to the boy. "It wasn't worth the effort."
"And now it is?" he asked.
"Killing Nazis is
always worth the effort, Greg," she replied with eerie calm, leading them onwards to wherever she was heading.
