Wyvern
Part Twenty: The Dreaded Slaughterhouse Arc (2) – Farewell, Seven of Nine
[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]
Taylor
The trip across town was the fastest I'd ever made it, and it was still far too slow. As soon as we were over my house, Eric dissipated the force field and Vicky let me go. We flew down toward the inferno that had once been my home, while I anxiously scanned the gathered crowd for Dad.
He wasn't there. Even the ambulance crews were just standing around waiting for business while the fire crew directed streams of water into the house.
As the rest of us landed in an unoccupied section of lawn, Vicky took point. She flew over to one of the guys directing matters and touched down in front of him. "Hi, we thought we'd come and help out," she said. "Everyone make it out?"
The fire chief (at least, that's who I thought it was) shook his head. "Nobody got out before we got here, and by then it was too far gone to go in."
No! Dad! I stared at the flames leaping from the windows and took a deep breath. Fire didn't hurt me, and Dad might be in there somewhere, hoping for rescue.
Then Eric whipped past me, force field flaring into life around him. He punched clear through the still-closed front door and vanished. I went to follow him in, but Vicky stepped in front of me and put her arms around my neck. I could feel her strength preventing me from moving forward.
"Easy, easy. They're trained in clearing houses," she said in an undertone meant only for my ears. "Eric will be able to find your dad and get him out."
If he's still alive, she meant.
It didn't stop me from desperately wishing I could try to save him anyway. I watched with ever-mounting despair, my clawed feet tearing up the grass and soil that I was standing on.
"Easy," Vicky murmured again. "Easy."
My head came up as I heard a grinding creak that seemed to resonate through my very bones. "It's going!" shouted one of the fire responders.
"Shit, Eric's still in there," muttered Crystal. She began to power up her forcefield. "If it comes down with him inside—"
Two things happened at once. Eric shot out of the roaring furnace in a dramatic shower of sparks, cradling something in his arms. Literally seconds later, the entire structure went down like a house of cards in a stray breeze, only faster. The fire chief shouted orders to turn the hoses on the surrounding houses, to ensure no secondary blazes started, as Eric landed in front of Vicky and me.
I felt a puff of hot air as he dropped his force field. He was sweating like crazy and holding something wrapped in a blanket. Illogically, I felt a wild hope, even though I could see it was far too small to be Dad. Vicky let me go and I let out an enquiring chirp as I nodded toward the bundle.
"Searched the basement and the upstairs bedrooms and bathroom," he said in answer to my unspoken query. "He wasn't anywhere inside, under the beds, in the closets, anywhere. Only thing that wasn't on fire was this." Folding back a corner of the scorched blanket, he showed me the photo album Dad had kept in his bedroom, the one that held all the photos of Mom. "Figured you might want it."
Stepping forward, I wrapped my wings around him in my best approximation of a hug. My chirp this time meant
Thank you, but worry still plagued my mind.
Where's Dad? What's happened to him?
"You're welcome," he said awkwardly. "We'll, uh, we'll just hold on to this."
"So if her dad isn't in there," said Vicky, "where
is he? He should've been home by now."
"I saw what might've been grocery bags on the floor in the living room," Eric offered. "And the back door was swinging open, with keys in the lock. So he got home, then something … happened."
"Yeah, but what?" asked Crystal. "And how did the house catch fire?"
"And if the back door was open, why didn't he get out?" added Vicky.
"Well, he clearly did, but where did he go then?" That was Eric.
Crystal shook her head. "And without his car?" She pointed at Dad's car; some brave soul had smashed the driver's side window and let off the handbrake, and they'd pushed it partway out onto the street to get it away from the burning house. "The keys were right there. Why didn't he take it?"
I shook my head. Nonverbal as I was, I couldn't contribute to the discussion, and worry was clouding my mind too much for me to think ahead and make coherent conclusions. There were too many questions, with no answers forthcoming. Worse, I had a weird buzz in my ears that made it hard to concentrate.
That was when something tapped me on the ankle.
Twisting my neck around, I looked down. There was a shifting, liquid pool of glass on the ground next to my clawed foot, and as I watched, it extended a pseudopod and tapped me again. This wasn't the weirdest thing I'd ever seen, but it was definitely up there. Lowering my head to peer at it more closely, I let out an enquiring chirp.
As if triggered by the sound, the glass started forming words.
WE HAVE YOUR FATHER. TELL NOBODY.
It paused then, awaiting my reply.
I looked up and around, then over at the others. They were busily discussing the matter of my father's disappearance among themselves. Looking back toward the blob of glass, I nodded and chirped again, trying to keep control of the rising tide of anger within me.
Whoever 'we' are, you're going to regret this.
It seemed the glass controller could see my movements and maybe hear my voice but could not register my emotions. The blob changed again, showing more words. And now that I was paying attention, the buzz changed tone very slightly.
COME TO CAPTAINS HILL ALONE OR YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY DIE.
Well,
that was absolutely clear-cut and impossible to mistake for anything other than a threat. My anger mounted until the flame danced in the back of my throat. It was a distinct effort to hold back from deluging fire over the glass letters on the ground.
Lifting my head, I looked around again. As I did so, I concentrated on the almost subliminal buzzing. I could almost feel it shifting in frequency as my head turned one way then the other.
I had to do this. I had to go. Dad and whoever else they had were depending on me.
But that didn't mean I had to play into this asshole's hostage fantasy.
Correction: this
dead asshole.
I was sick and
tired of people thinking they could get leverage over me by threatening my father.
This ends tonight.
<><>
Glory Girl
The first thing Vicky knew of something
else going wrong was when Wyvern detonated one of her explosive fireballs on the ground directly under herself, launching her into the air in what seemed like a deliberate move. Fortunately, nobody had been close enough to take harm from the explosion, though the grass had been scorched to ash in a wide circle. That wasn't her biggest concern, though.
The
biggest concern was that Taylor was flying away at a high rate of knots, leaving the rest of them behind.
"Where's she going?" shouted Crystal, as they scrambled into the air to catch up with her.
"I dunno," Vicky replied, forging ahead. "Soon as I grab her, I'll be sure to ask."
"Just be careful," Eric supplied, gamely trying to keep up. "She looks
pissed."
"Pfft, what's she gonna do?" asked Vicky. "She knows she can't hurt me."
Half a second later, a fireball exploded in her face.
The heat and kinetic force didn't so much as muss her hair, but the blinding flash surprised the
fuck out of her, dazzling her and sending her tumbling through the air. "What the shit?" she blurted, trying to rub the dancing spots out of her eyes. When she could see again, Wyvern was no longer in view. "Oh, that's just not fair."
As she hovered there in mid-air, Crystal and Eric caught up with her. "She let off half a dozen in a row," Crystal explained. She pointed out where clouds of smoke, underlit by the city glow, were wafting away under a gentle breeze. "While we were eyes-off, she must have either dived for surface clutter or gone for altitude. And unless she gets between us and the moon, we're never gonna see her either way."
"Okay, just what the fuck is going on here?" Vicky flung her arms out. "Why'd she even do this? We're her
friends! Her
teammates! Why would she fly off the handle like this?"
"Uh … maybe she just wanted to be left alone?" Eric shrugged. "I mean, right now she's gotta be under some serious stress."
"Yeah, but where's she gonna
go?" Crystal raked her hands through her hair. "Vicky, what'd she do the last time she was this upset?"
"Uh …" Vicky tried to think. "Told Armsmaster to fuck off and then went and hid in our garage?"
Crystal nodded firmly. "Okay, you go check there. Eric and me will go back to her house and make sure nobody got hurt."
"Okay, right." Vicky grimaced and tapped the phone in its pouch on her belt. "Let me know if anything turns up."
"Sure thing, and same to you. Come on, Eric." Crystal turned in midair and started back toward the fading glow in the sky that signalled the demise of the Hebert house.
Vicky looked around to get her bearings then started off toward home, almost certain she was missing a trick but not sure what it was.
Taylor, what's going on?
<><>
Jacob
Waiting atop the pretentiously named Captain's Hill, Jack Slash smiled in smug satisfaction as Shatterbird flew into view and landed alongside him. "She took the bait?" He already knew the answer, but he liked it when other people admitted how smart he was.
"Hook, line and sinker," she confirmed. "The New Wave kids tried to catch up with her, but she used those explosive fireballs like flashbangs and evaded them cleanly. For a rookie, it was actually pretty impressive."
"Good, so there's no chance she worked out some scheme with them before coming?" Again, he was certain he knew the answer, but it was always satisfying when a plan came together.
"Well, she's nonverbal, and she didn't even get their attention before she took off, so I'd say that's a solid no." She tilted her head. "Pretty sure that's her now."
"
Excellent." For some reason, he felt the urge to steeple his fingers and leer over them, but it passed. "Let the event commence. Burnscar, if you will?"
<><>
Taylor
There were definitely people on top of Captain's Hill, clustered around the statue of Captain Lord, but my improved night-sight (I refused to call it 'dragonsight') couldn't distinguish between them, until a row of torches burst into flame one after the other. Then I saw what was going on.
Dad was there, kneeling on the rough gravel, with Kurt and Lacey next to him. Beside Lacey was Alan Barnes, and then Emma. Kurt's face was bruised, like he'd been roughed up a little, and Emma's features were blotchy, like she'd been crying. Lacey just looked pissed. I could just barely see something crouching on their necks, long mechanical legs clutching their shoulders and extending down their arms and over their heads.
"Good evening, Wyvern," announced an altogether too-familiar figure as he stepped out of the shadows and into the torchlight. I'd known he was there, but not who he was. Now I knew that, too. "Or should I say, Taylor Hebert. Oh, yes. I know who you are. I know a great deal about you." Jack Slash smiled predatorially, his too-white teeth gleaming in counterpoint to the blade that flickered through his fingers in the firelight.
I came to a hover, my rage almost boiling over. How
dare this little man threaten
my father and his friends, all because he had a bunch of supervillains to hide behind! Just barely, I managed to force myself to voice an enquiring chirp.
"Ah, yes. Non-verbal." He
hmphed and lifted his chin. "I do so like it when they beg for all to hear. Oh well, no bother. I will translate.
What do you want from me, I believe you asked. Well, it's simple. You, in the Nine. I believe you will make an absolutely
marvellous part of the group."
Still hovering, I shook my head and voiced a defiant squawk.
Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.
Jack Slash raised his eyebrows, sounding quite amused. "Language, language. If my Bonesaw could understand that, she would be quite miffed with you. No, you see, it's quite simple. You see before you five hostages. I will be—"
That was it. I couldn't take it any longer. My anger burst forth, and I let out a roaring torrent of flame at him.
Threaten my dad, will you!
A shield of glass interposed itself between myself and the gang leader, splashing the flame harmlessly in all directions. I switched up, flying forward with an explosive fireball leading the way, aiming to smash through the shield and get to Jack Slash before anyone else could interfere. With him in my jaws, I'd have the Nine at my mercy, and I could get them to release Dad and the others.
It wasn't the most intricate of plans, or the most well thought out, but I wasn't exactly thinking straight right at that moment.
So, of course,
nothing could go wrong.
<><>
Emma Barnes
The latest member of New Wave had made the news weeks before, so Emma knew all about it. She'd admired the dragon (or
wyvern, as New Wave insisted on calling it) for its power and strength, and giggled over the footage showing it cursing out Armsmaster. But now it was facing the Nine, all alone, almost incandescent in its frustrated rage … and
that was Taylor.
Emma didn't know whether to be more scared of the Nine right then, or of her one-time friend.
They would kill her if Taylor acted up … but Taylor might kill her afterwards
anyway. She didn't often admit to making mistakes—that sort of thing happened to other people—but right now, she was beginning to consider the idea that shoving Taylor into the locker and then continuing to tease her afterward might have been a possible error in judgement.
As Jack Slash continued with his smug monologue, Taylor—no,
Wyvern—lost her temper and shot flame at him. Emma tensed, expecting to see him immolated, but Shatterbird sent a sheet of glass up to protect him. When her first attack didn't work, she flew forward with another burst of flame; it hit the glass sheet and exploded, but that was just a decoy. Demonstrating some of the agility she'd shown on the news, Wyvern twisted and flew up and over the disintegrating shield.
Which promptly reformed and locked around her body and wings. Emma winced as she felt the impact Wyvern's dragon body made when it hit the rocky ground, down the slope a little way. Jack Slash tried to say something, but Wyvern's outraged screech drowned him out. Shedding shards of glass and at least twice as large as before, Wyvern came flapping up out of the darkness, eyes blazing and teeth bared in fury.
There was a rumble of heavy footsteps, then Crawler launched himself out of the darkness, smashing into Wyvern's body like a battering ram. They hit the rocky slope again, tumbling over and over in the darkness. Emma could hear Wyvern screeching and Crawler roaring in several tones at once.
The last rock slid to a halt. Silence fell. Emma waited for Wyvern to emerge from the darkness once more, like a phoenix triumphant. But instead, heavy plodding footsteps came up the side of the hill, until Wyvern's battered body was tossed unceremoniously into the pool of firelight.
She was a little larger than before, but her glorious red and gold scales had been badly seared by acid, which had also burned large holes in her wing membranes. She was still alive, still conscious, still trying to move and attack despite a missing eye, a broken jaw and several other clearly broken bones, some of which were protruding through her skin.
A delicately built girl with long dark hair bearing a single red streak stepped forward. "Come on," she said softly. "Go to sleep, little dragon. Go to sleep."
Although Wyvern clearly didn't want to, her one good eye drifted shut. She shrank, the scales fading away and her hair returning, until Taylor Hebert lay face down on the gravel of the parking lot. And then her eyes (both of them) snapped open, she looked around, and just like that
, Wyvern was back, fully healed and the smaller size again. One second a scrawny girl, the next a red and gold scaled dragon. If Emma had blinked, she would've missed it.
Crawler shifted his position, putting one foot in the middle of Wyvern's back and the other on her muzzle, almost certainly to prevent her from breathing fire. Then, and only then, did Jack Slash step forward again.
"Well, that was both impressive and educational," the bearded man mused, strolling up to where Crawler held Wyvern pinned to the ground. "Let's try that again, shall we? Cage that beast a little, girl, or you
will lose someone you care for."
<><>
Taylor
I stared up at Jack Slash, wishing I could do more than growl past the heavy foot holding my mouth closed.
If I were free … but I wasn't. And so, I couldn't afford to let the wyvern take full control like that again. I blinked at him twice, then twice again, trying to convey 'yes'.
Not that I intended to cooperate with him in the slightest. But I had to play this to
my strengths, not his.
"Good," he said smoothly. "Now, shall we continue? As I was saying, we have five hostages here, two of whom you'd probably rather see dead. This is how it's going to go. Shatterbird, Crawler, Burnscar and Cherish have all expressed an interest in turning you into a quivering wreck. Bonesaw holds the lives of your hostages in her hand, and Siberian is here to ensure that you don't turn yours truly into a charcoal briquette. Are you understanding the situation so far?"
I gave him another series of blinks.
"Good. So, we'll go round by round. For each round, you either dispose of one of our hostages or my charming friends beat you to a pulp and I take something from you. Perhaps a finger, perhaps an eye. But I've decided to be nice and give you a couple of freebies for the first two rounds. It'll be no hardship at all for you to finally put these two out of your misery, will it?"
His gesture encompassed Alan and Emma Barnes, and I had to admire the evil genius of the man. Just for a moment, I was indeed tempted to murder them and blame it on Jack Slash. He knew me, knew what I wanted.
But he didn't
own me, and never would. I was better than him. I was better than
them. And more importantly, I knew something he didn't. But I didn't dare even think about it, because he'd shown an uncanny level of understanding of my thought processes so far, and I didn't wish to lose out to a scumbag like him at this point in the game.
I shook my head as best I could, and swung my eyes toward where I could see Shatterbird at the edge of the torchlight. To make my point, I sent a thin stream of flame out of my nostril toward her.
"Well, then." Jack clapped his hands together cheerfully. "If you want to do this the hard way, we can do it the hard way." He stepped back toward where the Siberian waited with Bonesaw. As she laid her hand on him, his colouration went from normal to black and white. He was protected, I knew.
Crawler took his feet off me and stepped back, allowing me to get to my feet and shake out my wings. I had one chance to get this right, or people would die. Rather; the
wrong people would die. So from here on in,
I could not lose.
Shatterbird took to the air, shards of glass orbiting her, while her wings spread wide, firelight twinkling off them. She had her weapons with her, ready to use on me. I'd seen how fast she was, how effective. I knew I could be beaten by her, and that was my advantage.
She
didn't know she could be beaten by me, so she didn't know how to plan against it.
With a screech of defiance, I took off straight up, my wings undoubtedly sending a billow of dust everywhere. But I wasn't concentrating on that. I was reaching into the depths of my being to where the wyvern resided, and pushing it
hard to respond to the perceived threat. At my normal size, I couldn't beat Shatterbird; she could immobilise my wings and bring me down at any time.
I breathed deeply, inhaling the chilly night air, feeling my ribcage expand … and expand … and
expand. By the time Shatterbird realised something was wrong, I was halfway to her and more than twice my normal size. And then, just as her glass started toward me, I backwinged and pulled the same trick I had on Vicky that one time. A little bit of flame and a
huge volume of smoke erupted from my nostrils, engulfing her altogether.
Coughing, she tried to fly out of the plume of smoke and evade me, but the buzzing in my ears led me straight to her. Her eyes widened and she threw up a glass shield against my flame. I didn't care. My head was the size of a small car by then, and when I closed my jaws around her the glass crunched like candy. She didn't crunch so much as
squish.
Then I breathed fire, through my half-closed mouth. She didn't even have time to scream.
Spitting out the charred body and the bits of glass, I wheeled tightly on one wingtip and dived.
One down, still winning.
A feeling of lethargy invaded my thoughts, as it had done before. The little tiny bit of me that just didn't want to fight was blown out of all proportion, almost forcing me to Change again. I felt myself reducing in size, and tried to push back, but Cherish's power was too strong for me to fight against.
So I didn't. I surrendered to her, and gave the wyvern full control over our shared body. Before, it had been an instinctive action; now, it was a winning strategy. As I watched, uncaring and wanting to just let the world
go away, the wyvern spat out a single actinic stream of cutting flame. It had served to slice Inago's wing clear off his body. Here, it removed Cherish's head from her body, by way of vaporising it. As the headless corpse collapsed, the suppression of my natural anger vanished, and I surged back into the driver's seat.
Thanks, I'll take it from here.
<><>
Jacob
With Shatterbird down, and Cherish removed from the field mere seconds later, Jack stared up at the descending dragon. All his instincts were shouting that she wouldn't be stopped by mere threats this time. "Burnscar!"
"On it!" Hand flaring with flame, Burnscar stepped out in front of the hostages. Jack watched her call the torch flames to her, swirling them in a complex pattern. "Hey, Wyvern!" she shouted. "Back off!"
Wyvern kept coming, mouth opening and teeth showing. Jack began to wonder if she was even capable of comprehending human speech anymore. Burnscar took the initiative, directing the flames down at Danny Hebert's left hand. In an instant, it was seared to the bone. He screamed, loud and long.
With a great gust of wind that would've put out the torches if Burnscar's power had not kept them alight, Wyvern backwinged to a halt in mid-air. "
DAD!" she bellowed, in a deep and gravelly voice.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU BITCH!"
"Language!" chided Bonesaw. "Mr. Jack, tell her not to swear!"
Burnscar cupped Hebert's head in her hands. He couldn't do anything about this, as he was still locked into the glass shackles Shatterbird had formed onto him. "Come down here and Change back, or I boil his brain in his skull!"
Still the dragon hovered there, great wings thrashing the air, anguish clear even on its inhuman muzzle. "Three!" shouted Burnscar. "Two!"
Wyvern
shimmered, changing not so much size as shape. When her form stabilised, she was longer, leaner, and her colouration had changed utterly. Where before she'd been covered in red and gold scales, now she was ice-blue with black highlights. "
One," she purred in a thunderous hissing whisper that was totally unlike her previous fifty-packs-a-day rasp, and inhaled.
Every flame went out, all pouring across the gap to where Wyvern hovered and disappearing into her flared nostrils. The temperature in the air dropped precipitously, frost forming on every surface. Her mouth opened, and she seemed to cough; ice shards shot out in a spray.
Burnscar yelped with terror and leaped away from Danny Hebert, forming a burst of flame with one hand and shooting another high into the air. She dived into the one before her and vanished. Far above, another one was formed, the fleeing form of Burnscar jumping from one to the other.
Wyvern turned her head fractionally, tracking, then spat out a burst of something that would've been flame, except that it was blue and sucked heat out of the air as it rocketed upward. There was another flare of fire above, and another … and then the blue bolt hit. The fire ceased to be.
Jack stared at Wyvern.
I did not see that coming. "Poppet, since when can she breathe cold?"
"Uh, Mr. Jack," ventured Bonesaw. "I think I know what's happening, and it's a bad thing."
We've just lost three of our members. No shit it's a bad thing. "Yes?"
"Her, uh, power? Each time she's under stress when she's using her powers, it … uh, it puts her through a mini-Trigger. And I think she gets to keep all the previous iterations."
Jack blinked. "Powers don't work like that.
Do powers work like that?"
Bonesaw shrugged. "Hers does?"
There was a crash and a shattering sound as Burnscar landed, her frozen corpse smashing like a Ming vase on a concrete floor. Wyvern turned her burning blue gaze on him. "
I am going to—"
"Woo hoo!" Crawler bolted out of the darkness again and launched himself at her. "Round two, beeyatch! Come to papa!"
Jack breathed out again as they disappeared into the darkness. "Okay, once he breaks her down to size, I'm just going to have him kill her," he decided. "She's unmanageable. Too many variables." He waved his hand at where the hostages were. "Go ahead, kill the hostages. We don't need them anymore."
"Uh … Mr. Jack …"
He was beginning to detest that tone in her. "What?"
"The spiders I had on them are all dead. She killed them."
"What? When?" She hadn't even gotten
close to the hostages.
"I don't know, Mr. Jack." Bonesaw sounded worried, and he didn't blame her. "Want me to send another spider to kill them now?"
"Yes. Do that." No matter what else, Wyvern
would not win.
There was a scuttling sound in the darkness. Bonesaw cleared her throat. "Uh … the hostages … they're not there?"
"What?"
<><>
Danny Hebert
"Come on, while they're distracted." Danny's left hand felt like one huge lump of ice, but it was better than the alternative.
He'd already wrenched off the cyber-spider that had been attached to the back of his neck, after it went limp. The cause of its demise was obvious; a high-velocity shard of ice had punched through its outer carapace, killing it instantly. Another had struck the glass bonds that were holding him prisoner, shattering them.
Each of the other hostages had been freed in a similar fashion, which made him wonder exactly how accurate Taylor was with those things. Also, where had that form even
come from?
Escape now, power analysis later. "Come on," he whispered again as they sneaked down the road.
"You okay, man?" Kurt's voice rumbled quietly in the darkness.
"Better than Burnscar."
"Ain't that the truth."
And then the light flared in front of them.
<><>
Taylor
Fighting Crawler was no picnic at the best of times. The first go-around, I'd already had my ass kicked by Shatterbird, and I was on the back foot. This time, I knew what I was facing. I found I could neutralise his acid with my cold-breath, and in fact I could break chunks off him by freezing them first.
But that tactic worked less and less, and soon he was using my cold-breath against me. Not that it did much, but it got annoying. Worse, he was beginning to overpower me, now that I couldn't simply destroy parts of his body. We hit an outcrop and smashed it, but it knocked the wind out of my body. He loomed over me, drooling yet more acid. This stuff was resistant to being frozen, and actually stung quite a bit.
I rolled over, managing to throw him off. Too late, I saw a small van in an out of the way parking spot, halfway up the hill. For a moment, I thought it might be abandoned, but then I spotted a face watching us through the windshield.
"Watch out!" I bellowed. But it was too late. Crawler landed square on it, crushing it flat.
God damn it, I groaned. I'd face the music for that later.
Crawler smashed me across the face with one of his front legs, and my head hit another rock. The world blurred; when it came back, I was looking
down at him. My night sight (okay, fine,
dragonvision) was much better now, and I saw my colouration had gone back to red and gold. "Come on!" he roared, launching himself at me, despite being somewhat smaller than me.
Opening my jaws wide—he was about the same size as my
head—I caught him up in my mouth and bit down, hard. My teeth sheared into his flesh, and he let out an insane cackle. "Yeah!
Yeah!"
He was already changing, adapting, to what I was doing to him. I felt myself shifting and changing in response; going with the wyvern's instincts, I tilted my head back and opened my gullet wide. He scrabbled briefly as he went down my throat, then I swallowed. It was painful at first, but then my body shimmered again and it wasn't.
But even that wasn't the end of it.
Crawler fought back, trying his best to tear his way out of me in a bizarre parody of that movie about the aliens. My stomach moved and bulged oddly, and I had the horrible feeling that I wouldn't be able to Change back until I had this sorted. The wyvern heard me, and I Changed again. This time, Crawler was weaker. It took two more Changes before he was totally quiescent. Whatever passed for stomach acids in this version of me had finally dealt with the unkillable cape.
Unfurling my wings—and by now they were
huge—I flew up and landed at the top of Captain's Hill again. Jack and Bonesaw were just boarding the RV they'd come here in. I stomped on the front end of the vehicle, crushing it flat.
"Going somewhere?"
Yeah, I was
that big.
Jack Slash stared up at me. "What
are you?" he demanded. "What did you do with Crawler?"
I didn't have an answer for the first question, but I definitely had one for the second one. Opening my jaws, I let out a deep, rolling thunderous belch that echoed across Brockton Bay.
"He was delicious." It was a lie, but it was a
badass lie.
"Rude," complained Bonesaw. "Gross."
"Okay, just going to say, you can't touch me or my little poppet, because Siberian will fillet you if you try." Jack hooked his thumb over his shoulder as he spoke. Except that … both he and the girl should have been currently coloured in shades of gray. They weren't.
I breathed in through my nostrils, taking up their scents, wondering exactly where the Siberian was. Jack's scent was … interesting. He'd been cocky and confident earlier. Now … he was terrified, but putting up a good front.
The Siberian must've decided to cut her losses and leave him hanging out to dry.
"Who?" I grinned, each of my teeth longer than he was tall.
"I'm full of pathogens," Bonesaw said defiantly. "Kill me and they'll spread far and wide. You'll kill
America."
"Funny thing, that," I mused.
"It took a lot to kill Crawler. I'm pretty sure that right now, my internals negate matter on a subatomic level. I wonder how that would go against your pathogens. Made of matter, aren't they?"
"Wait, wait," Jack said, holding his hands up. "Don't I get any last words?"
"No." I was sick of his face, sick of his voice and sick of his smug condescension. It took just one breath to disintegrate the back half of the RV, Bonesaw and her pathogens and Jack Slash himself. Also, about fifty cubic yards of parking lot in a shallow crater. I was going to have to work on my precision.
And then light sprang into existence beside me. I looked over and down, to see Lady Photon hovering in mid-air, holding her hand up like a floodlight. "Taylor?" she asked. I wasn't totally surprised at how doubtful she sounded. My head was now twice the size of a city bus.
"
Yeah. I think so. I see you found my message." When I'd used the explosive fireball to launch myself skyward, it had
also ashed all the grass and dirt directly under it … except the bits covered by the glass, forming words. When they finally got around to examining the scene, they would've found a signpost telling them exactly where I'd gone; also, why.
"Yes, we did. Sorry it took us so long. Did you just … finish the Nine?"
"They started it. What about Dad and the others?"
"We've got them. Amelia is healing your father's hand as we speak. How … how did you get so big?"
"Lots of Crawler in my diet, I guess."
She choked out a laugh. "Uh, how do you feel about that?"
"There was quite a bit of heartburn involved, but I got over it." I looked down at myself.
"Pretty sure I can't fit in the garage anymore."
This time, her laughter was more genuine. "What about the Siberian? How did you deal with her?"
I shrugged, not unlike the movement of tectonic plates.
"No idea. I suspect when she saw them losing, she dumped the team and ran."
"Right." She flew around in front of me and held up what I recognised as the extravagantly fluffy bathrobe that Vicky had more or less gifted me with after the Armsmaster incident. "Well, when you feel like downsizing, I'll be right here for you."
"Thanks." I silently consulted the wyvern. It felt kind of tired.
"I figure it won't be long before I'm human again. Anyway, I've got court in the morning."
She nodded. "Think the Barneses might want to change their plea after this?"
I chuckled; already, I could feel the size Change coming on.
"Maybe."
Personally, I was ready for bed. It had been a long, long night.
End of Part Twenty