Hello, everyone. Welcome to Wyrm, a parahuman radio serial. This series is a fan project named tribute to Wild Nose Web Serial Wyrm. It contains graphic, violent, strong language, and a built subject matter.
This is a scripted invite. Why do I some... Black, you traitor! In one of those rooms, I stabbed Coyle in the chest.
There was no satisfaction in doing it, no relief. In the other room, he sat back out of my reach in my first lunge, raised one hand and blew a handful of pale dust into my face. While I was blindly slashing in his direction, he grabbed the rest of my knife and held it firm in his bony hand. Skitter, stop!
And my struggle stilled. I was helpless to resist. Diluted scopolamine, also known as devil's breath, it strips imbibers of volition and threatens them eminently suggestible. As you can see, I attempted to use it on my pet, and the results were tragic.
The price of hubris, I suppose. Take off your mask. My hair fell across my face as I let my mask fall to the ground. Pets, you couldn't have succeeded.
This was terribly unwise. Eyes wide and I'm blinking. I deserved this. It was thanks to me that you'd been kidnapped, thanks to me that you'd been named McCoyle's slave.
Karma, perhaps, that I'd taken her place. Look at me, pet. McCoyle removed his mask, and I stared. I recognized him.
He was someone I knew all too well. How hadn't I seen it? I could understand it, too. He'd been struggling to fix things, watching people failing to find work, knowing he was the city government that was to blame.
I could remember him telling me how he'd make the city work again, how he had all the answers. I knew how hungry he was to do it. He'd gotten powers. He'd started to put plans into motion so he could do just that.
My father's voice tore through me like ice. Welcome home, pet. Suddenly I woke up. True to form, it took me four minutes to get my new contact lenses in.
At least I could see, and given what we may soon be up against, it was better than risking the alternative. The topmost floor of the hideout coil had provided me was a living space, with a bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. The second floor, as I like to think of it, was skitters. Each shelf was lined with terrariums and backed by strategically positioned mirrors, so that the lake filtered through the front of the terrariums and into the room.
A chair way too large for me was positioned in one corner. The ground floor here wasn't much different from the one at Greer's Place. There was an area with bunk beds, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and an open area that didn't get served for purpose. All of this was mine.
My lair. It felt so empty. This place was already something of the luxury, more than half of Rockton Bay was currently lacking plumbing or electricity. I grabbed a cell phone from my kitchen counter and dialed coil.
Yes? It's Skitter. What is it Skitter? I need a load of some guys.
How many? Eight. A truck would be a good idea if you can get one here. I can.
These men you require. You need a gunman or... Just regular guys. Anyone up for some exercise?
I assume there's no rush? No rush. Then I'll have them there in an hour. It was a lot of time to kill.
Free time sucked when you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts. In the end, I went against my better judgment and decided to go for a run. Fully dressed, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, and began loading up with bugs in my hair and clothes. I was cool with it so long as they weren't directly on my skin.
Coyle had set my layer up with a discreet entrance and exit. I made my way to the building cellar, opened a hatch, and entered the adjacent storm drain. I started running the moment I reached the beach, lacked for a chance to resume my routine. Garbage and debris completely consumed the beach.
Two pieces of machinery lay in a heap just below the left of the boardwalk above. Straight paint had been used to draw the same crude symbol on both the side of an upturned 18-wheeler and the concrete wall separating the beach from the boardwalk above. A capital M with two taller lines drawn vertically through it, much the same you do with a dollar sign. Merchants.
I could call on the others if such a situation arose, and I expected them to call on me if the same thing happened. But people would take time to get here, and the merchants, the Chosen, or whoever else was making trouble could keep making trouble until the reinforcements arrived. It was tricky, and they didn't know how I would handle things if... Taylor?
My reaction wasn't much different than if someone had stabbed me in the stomach with an icicle. It's you. Wow. My father stood in a wall edge above me.
Looking at him, I couldn't imagine how I might have possibly thought he was Coyle, even in a dream. I just sat for a merry-go-to-run. You're running during this? Mark, can we be alone for a while?
You got my messages? I've listened to that answering machine so many times. I miss you. I miss you, too.
I don't know how to ask. I'm afraid to ask you to come home, because I'm not trying to stand to hear you tell me you won't. Well, you can always come home. Anytime.
Any reason. Okay. What are you doing with yourself these days? Danny, we need your help over here.
I need to go handle this. Can I... How do I contact you? I'll leave you a message on your answering machine, with my cell phone number and my email in case I'm in an area where cell service is down.
Email? Where are you that you have access to a computer? Just outside the city limits, not far from the market. So you're out of the way of any trouble.
But what are you doing here this morning? I was going to stop by the house and see if it was in okay shape. Was this the extent of my interactions with my dad? Always lies.
I see. Look, I have to go, but I do want to talk again soon. Lunch, maybe? Maybe.
You offered me a sad smile and then turned to go. Dad, wait. I heard this lot of house nine were around. Be careful.
We're noters. Thank you. As if by mutual agreement, we turned to leave at the same time, both of us going in separate directions. My mask wasn't wearable with the contacts, due to the glasses I'd jammed in there.
With my nice point, I said about him doing that particular piece of work, prying the lenses out. This was it. Time to claim my territory. I stayed in the truck as Quail's men unloaded it.
I sent some of the people venturing out of their residences, watching from windows and entryways, encouraged by those who left. Others venture to follow. To dissuade people from taking the supplies, I set a cloud of bugs around a pile of boxes, enough to be obvious without miscarrying what was there. Weighing enticement against implicit threat, I managed to keep the crowd in place as it brooded dozens than a hundred people, with more still approaching.
Some of you know me. My name is Skitter. I am laying claim to this area. From this moment, I rule this territory.
I am not the ABB. I am not the merchant, the empire, or the chosen. I am acting in your interests. I do not know money from you.
I do not intend to interfere in your lives, unless you interfere in mine. I do not want to take or destroy what you have. These supplies are yours. A gift from me to you.
And there will be more, delivered regularly for as long as I am here. I am offering you protection, security, and reprieve, for as long as you are my subject. All I require is that you obey my rules, so hear me. No gangs will operate here.
Merchants, chosen, I know some of you are in this crowd. Consider this my declaration of war. I have a million eyes to watch you with. Go elsewhere.
To everyone else, if you assist any of these groups, you lose my goodwill. That's track one. If I catch you doing it again, I will treat you as one of the enemy. Each box contains enough basic food rations for poor people.
They also have first aid supplies and water fillers. These supplies will keep you going until we can start fixing things and making more basic conveniences available. If you want more, work for it. For anyone who assists me, them and their families will have access to some of those foods you miss, showers and electricity, and generous payment.
You and your loved ones will be clean, dry, and you will have fresh clothes. Thank you for listening. These supplies are yours to take. One to each family or group, up to two if your family is large enough.
I was just starting to wonder what I'd do if nobody moved when the first man stepped forward, followed immediately by his wife and a pair of kids. The parents didn't make eye contact with me as they accepted the box that one of the coils of workers lifted down to hand to them. There was no gratitude nor any thanks given. Seeing the first family leaving with their supplies, others were brave enough to venture forward.
In moments, it was a crush of bodies. It weren't enough in the way of supplies. I could see the atmosphere shift slightly as people realized it. Now, Missy, where do you think you're going with all that?
A man had drawn who swung a crude knife to ward people off and grinned an eyefully at the reaction he was getting. His armed body stood back, sparking and grinning. Big man, you feel proud of that knife of yours? Fuck you.
I'm not scared of bugs. You a member of the merchant? Fuck you. Fine, don't care.
You're threatening my people? You better be ready to take me on. I'm not scared of you. Prove it.
Use that rusty thing on me. The first hit had hurt because of the force of the charge behind it, but I could almost ignore the follow-up strikes. I extended my arm like the bugs flow from beneath my costume in one-shot movement. I've been found to pick up the blade, and when I stood up again, the battery was ten feet in front of me, one face closer to me than any of the rest of the crowd that bring me in the merchant.
I can't let you use that. I wasn't planning on it. How does this tie into the stunt you held to pull at HQ? The ward's building.
The intel we got from there was valuable, and that kind of money buys a lot of things. And now you're trying to turn people to your side? But you're not going to stop me, and you're not going to try to arrest me despite what's happening the other night, because I'm the lesser of a whole lot of evils that are in the city right now. For now.
For now. Until then, I've got supplies from an outside agent. I'm not stealing them from the same sources you guys use, and I'm getting them out to these people at my own expense. I'm policing this area until the police can get back to doing it themselves, and I'm dealing with the people who need to be dealt with.
You're not about to get in my way, are you? What's your agenda? Do I have to have one? Yes, your kind always has an agenda.
Maybe I'm unique. No. Knowing what you tried to pull with pretending to be a villain that's pretending to be a villain, you're more likely to have some skin-up play than anyone else. Don't know what to tell you.
No agenda. When we first set posts and bring your measures in place, your team was listed as low priority, and we were instructed to ignore you. Too costly and timely resources. I suspect someone intended to change that after your little stumps the other night, but the memo hasn't gone out yet.
So I'm going by the book, and I'm walking away. But I'll be keeping an eye on you, on this, and the moment you go too far, we're coming after you. No holds barred. I wouldn't expect any less.
With that, she disappeared in a blur, the water parting in her wake. People maintained a respectful distance, but oddly enough, those of you without boxes now have three ladybugs in your hands. Keep them, and I will use them to find you later today. She'll drop something off for you, with a small gift to each group of you for being patient.
As Quilest's men got back in the truck, my storm sense told me that one person had stayed behind. She saw I was looking, and she met my eyes. Yes, you got the ladybugs. I will get you a box.
No, it's not that. Then what is it? You said we were people that you were protecting us. Is that when you're going against other groups?
Yes. My kid brother, I need help. My parents are sick, and they're in the hospital, and I can't tell them because I told them I'd take care of him. And I asked the cops, but they're so busy, and there's no way I can help.
And I was going to ask that hero, Battery, that she disappeared so fast, and... Breathe. Now what happened? The merchant took him.
My kid brother. I want you to get him back, please. I'll do it. You will?
Stay here. I'll be right back. Draper, we're done here. Tell Quaila I need more supplies.
Now your name? Sierra. Let's walk, Sierra. I need details that I'm going to help.
The more you can tell me, the better. Three weeks ago, everything was so normal. I was finishing up at college. Bryce, my brother, went to Arcadia High.
My uncle was staying with us because he was down on his luck, as my dad put it. I'm almost positive that I was up and doing his drinking. Then a Leviathan came. The sirens woke us up so early in the morning we hurried to the shelter, and by the time it was midday, we were standing in front of what used to be our house, flattened everything we ever owned was gone.
I'm sorry. What? Oh, thank you. My dad, my uncle, and I worked with one of the cleanup crews, trying to get things normal again, until we got out that one of the crews had been attacked and the woman assaulted.
So he told me I couldn't work with them. I worked for one of the shelters instead. The merchants? We outnumbered them, but they had weapons and they caused by surprise.
One of them threw a Molotov cocktail through the window. They came through the doors and began attacking people. One of them grabbed my brother. I panicked and I left him and I skipped to the broken window.
My brother was the only one missing when I got back. The others were there, but badly hurt. Derek, the man who invited me to stay there, he... No, no, they cut him up with a broken bottle and the doctor said they bent him over and shoved him in between them.
I think I understand. Not about what they did. I mean, you know what I'm saying about these assholes? These...
I don't have words to describe them to say how much they hate them. God! Keep going. I don't know how you operate.
I don't hear messages outside of what I just saw back there. But I want you to know that I've always considered myself a pacifist. I've never been afraid. I've always tried to stand over people and give them a bit of a doubt.
To be fair, I never do anything to hurt another person. Even with words. So, I think it's going to mean something extra, something special. One thing you hurt them.
Fuck them up. Hurt them as much as you think they deserve, then double that. Trickle it. Just make them...
Trust me when I say I have that handled. God! Tell me more about them. Tell me anything about your brother and the nurses say they haven't seen him.
How long ago did he disappear? Two days ago. Did you go look at the people who took him? Some.
The one nearest me, he was fat, right, and had one of those bushy, wild man beards. You know what I mean? Six-eyed, rare, and no grooming. I don't hear me.
Then there was one woman, maybe middle-aged, bleached, fine hair, um, trailer trash, and she was the top guy with the scar on his lips. He was the one who was grabbing Bryce. I think he was the one who used the bottle on Derek. Were they wearing anything?
I don't think anything major. Most of those guys were shirtless, and the ones who were wearing clothes wearing t-shirts, some with no sleeves or with shoes worn off. Oh, and a lot of them had the fans around their wrists, plastic color, sometimes one or two, but the scar did have a lot. And I remember seeing the ones on his wrist and thinking it didn't seem like something he wore on his own.
Okay, that last bit is especially good. Anything else? I can't think of anything major right this second. Okay, where are you staying?
Um, nowhere. I was out all night looking. I was going back to a place we stayed at first, our family friend, but... It was the mole problem, and you said it was crowded.
That one too, you'll come with me. What? I don't know. It's better if you're close, so you can answer any questions I have, and so I can keep you informed.
This isn't really negotiable. Come with me. You have, uh, power, currently electricity. And running water.
Sit here a minute. I'm making tea. You want some? Are you hungry?
I am not a tea drinker, and I haven't had it in years, but suddenly that sounds like the best thing in the world. I'm afraid I don't have a kitchen table or chairs or even a living room for us to have the tea. There are beds in the other room if you want them, and you can make yourself comfortable there. This is strangely domestic for a villain.
I mean... It's fine. I'm not offended. I am a villain.
But I'm also a person under this mask, someone who prefers tea to coffee, who enjoys reading, who likes sweet and savory foods, but dislikes anything spicy or sour. Point being, I'm someone who wants to make sure you get taken care of, especially if you're among the people I'm protecting in this territory I'm claiming. Go find a bed. She was lying on the bank bed already, already fast asleep.
Quietly, I set the serving tray down on one of the luggage trunks at one corner of the room, collected my own tea and went upstairs to the second port to do a bit more cleanup, ousting the few merchants who stuck around. One by one, I took them down by creating the human-shaped swarms, and then I'm attacking them. Some fought, others ran, but each of the merchants succumbed eventually, choking on the bugs who are losing all self-control in the face of the pain-dead attacking swarm I clipped in. The human shapes were less efficient than a regular swarm, but I imagine the psychological effect was that much greater.
It was something my enemies would remember. I went into the kitchen before sending a text to Coil. Richard Byrne, burn victim, and the other wounded near Sandstone and Harney. Send Medic.
I dialed Lisa next. Hey, hey, Boardwalk Empress! Sattletail, how's it coming? It's not.
I'm gathering intel on the enemies in my territory. In the meantime, I'm helping Gru out, figuring out where he's got merchants hiding in this area. He's doing okay? No problems, last I heard.
Hugh, I saw that cloud of bugs earlier. Made a big play. Everyone here should know this is my territory now. Merchant testable bidders, I dealt with it.
Remains to be seen if this works out in the long run. I'm getting the impression you're a little further along than the rest of us. If that's the case, then that's great. I want to be in Coil's good books.
I want you to be, too. You know I'm here to help if you need it. Yeah, that's why I'm calling, actually. I need to find someone.
Do you tell? Someone asked me to retrieve her brother from the merchants. One of the guys who took him had a bunch of plastic arm bands. I think they're a status symbol or some indicator of rank.
Those aren't for rank, but you're not wrong in saying they're like status. They're more like boy scout badges. Boy scout badges? From what I can gather, you get one for attending one of the merchants' events.
Colors are supposed to represent what each one was about. It translates to a kind of respect, showing you're loyal, whatever. I'm not sure I understand. And neither am I, to be honest, and that bothers me.
So, in the interest of getting intel and maybe getting a lead on this missing boy of yours, do you think you could get away from your territory tonight to join me in figuring this out? Um, I don't want to leave just yet. Merchants are throwing a big bash tonight, so I doubt they'll be attacking your territory. In fact, I'm wondering if they were attacking your territory to get cash or stuff to barter at the event, as much as they were responding to your claim.
Maybe. And chosen aren't a threat right now? They haven't said or done anything yet? Not yet, no.
Haven't run into any. Your end are probably going to want to wind down and go on the defensive waiter today. You can have one of them babysit your territory if you're worried. You have no good reason to refuse.
Come on, let's go see what a merchant's party is all about. The structure stood in the center of the area, surrounded by tents and communal areas that were sheltered by tarps set over metal frameworks. A dining hall, a medical bay, portable washrooms. It was a shelter.
She told me not to dress up, so I hadn't. My knife was tucked inside the waistband of my pants. You want to stay here? No, but...
Opened our doors yesterday. We're already nearly full. Any more spaces reserved for priority people? Sick, infirm.
If you want a place, you can try the other shelters down. No, I have a place. I'm just looking for Lisa. Works here, Lisa, or stays here, Lisa?
Uh, both? Front desk. If she's not there, wait. She'll probably be in the back, gang, something for someone.
Lisa was at the end of the front desk, corpus from the front doors. We're in the same orange vest and the name type of the other stuff right then. Many areas of the map shoes in front of were marked with yellow highlighter, with the words merchant territory, very dangerous, blue marker, with the words chosen, occupied, avoid, or variations of such. The boardwalking surrounding area?
Green marker. Skitter, low threat, free supplies. And they had moved in? Here, sure?
They've been there for four days, as far as I can tell. I'm afraid to get too close, but there's always people there. I'll make sure to make note of that as part of merchant territory. I know it's small consolation, but at least now others will notice you're clear.
Okay, that's all I wanted. Things will get better, ma'am. Yeah, that's the post they have to, don't they? That's the spirit.
This lets me be right at the center of things. Information from the people who are out there every day watching. Good setup. And it gets better.
Check out the back. Six people were seated at the different parts of the room. Each with their own computer. All of our enemies were up on the wall.
There were pages relating to something Lisa was calling Case 53. Dragon was up there, as was Scion. The slaughterhouse nightmare on a bulletin board, but Hatchetface's picture was crossed out in red marker. Impressive.
I'd like to think so. With word of mouth and gossip from the crowd out there, and by info in the concrete data in here, I'm pretty in touch with all that crap. Except it's tiring. I'm feeling the beginning of one of those headaches I get when I use my power too much.
So, you and I are going out for some fresh air. Knowing where we're going, I doubt the air's not fresh. It's the same, kiddo. I know.
I'm just a little worried about they're being troubled. I feel so uncomfortable without myself. This is strict recon. And the people we're doing recon on are dangerous.
True, but we'll have escorts. Escorts? Like dates, where I'm really fucked up from. Minor, I want you, Senegal, Jaw, and Brooks in my office.
Cities. I know you'd rather Brian come with, but he's got his own thing going on, you know? Oh, no. I'm okay that he isn't coming.
Things are bad between us. I totally didn't know you'd confess to him, you know? I saw the awkwardness between you two in the distance, but I assumed it was because you used him as a shoulder to cry on. My power filled in those blanks all wrong.
Yep. Confessed. Not sure what sucked more. Him saying he thought of me in the same terms he thought of Aisha, whether he considered me a friend, knowing he'd fuck some friendship up, or him implying he'd only been nice to me because he pitied me.
I am going to kick his ass for being a... No! Don't interfere. Don't make things worse than they already are.
He's mad at me, he's hurt by what he did, and we're already separated. You know what I mean? We're each in our own territory, doing our own things. If something happened to push us further apart, I don't know if I'd ever get his friendship back.
Oh, Taylor, no. Oh, come in. We'll get into this later. Taylor, these are Miner, Jaw, Senegal, and Brooks.
These four will be our lookouts, bodyguards, and helping hands on our little errands. We can pose as couples. Well, couples. Four guys and only two girls?
Miner escorts me, Senegal escorts my friends, and you, Brooks, have your date with Jaw. How the fuck? Watch it. I could have brought Chris, but I'm more comfortable with there being more guys in our group.
Chances are good we'll get into Miner's couple somewhere along the way, and the way the merchants operate, they're going to respect guys more. Ready to head out? My partner wore a polite smile and wasn't doing anything more offensive than holding me, but something in his demeanor told me that Senegal wasn't popular in the slightest by being a 30-ish guy with a teenage girl in my arm. Just the opposite.
Hands off. Your friend there is the one calling the shots. She said we're a couple. Until I hear a different...
Don't get off, Senegal! The rest of you walk ahead. I want a few words in private with her. Who is she, anyway?
As far as I can tell, she's a dead weight. I'm saying there's a reason she's here. That's good enough for you. What?
Brooks have come. Doesn't look like things are perfect here. I might have made a move for my territory sooner if I wasn't trying to wrangle this. Why'd you stick me with Senegal?
Logistics. I needed Miner around so I could help with him about our long-term plans and because I want to build a rapport. The problems are Senegal and Brooks. I wanted to keep them separated so I could compare them together and things would be a lot worse if I stuck you with Brooks on a lot of levels.
Okay, but you have other guys, right? Demetri is second in charge of the group and he's the only one other than Meyer who I trust to run the shelter and everything that goes on in the background. That's good. She's capable, but she's a hard-ass.
She'd do more harm than good if I left her behind without someone else to supervise and I already said why I didn't want her along in our group. Just put up with Senegal. How? If you're uncomfortable around him, use it.
Not everyone that's at the merchant's party will be a willing participant. Right, and the day Leviathan came, it wasn't just range. Bugs were responding just a little bit faster. Maybe a tenth of a second faster, but yeah.
Okay, here's my theory done. I think your power's strongest when you're closest to the situation where you had your trigger events. What? Honestly, I'm highly suspicious that it's true for any cake out there.
Whenever you're in the same kind of mindset or same sort of physical situation you were in when you got your powers, your powers get stronger. The bad news is that you probably can't leverage that to your advantage because triggers tend to rely on hopelessness and frustration. The really scary part is that it works like a pedologian trigger seemingly. This might be subtly urging us back into ugly, violent, or dangerous situations with the benefits of having our powers temporarily boosted.
Then what's the good news? It's kind of like a defense mechanism. The worse a situation gets, the stronger you'll get. It's probably happened before to small degrees, but you haven't noticed it.
You said you saw evidence of it within your own powers. Can I ask? Another time. I don't want to get into a bad headspace just before we do this thing tonight.
Oh, that's fine. Really, you don't have to say. Oh, I said no more secrets, didn't I? Just give me time to figure out how to explain.
Of course. She gave me a one-armed hug. Weymouth Shopping Center. The mall I've gone to all my life is now a rallying paper merchants.
Hundreds of them, it looks like, all gathered together for one grand debauch festival. Most of our cars can't around their wrists or hanging from their clothing. Yellow bands prefer a test of courage. Black for near-death experience.
The red ones they're handing out at the door. Blood? Bloodshed. Yeah, something ugly is going to happen tonight.
Construction equipment have been left behind and more than decorations of the same cool bands that had hot-wired and taken them for their own use. The bulldoors are closer to me. I've been spray-painted and it's had bras, children's toys, and defaced vibes struck around it, among other things. Trashcams have been dragged into place from a mall and burned with an accurate smell of melted plastic and rancid wheat.
We approached the side of the building where two larger guys were standing guard. They noted the elastic bands that Lisa and Miner Moore handed each a red elastic and waved them through. They're with us. Ah, go right in.
Except for those two. Us? Yeah, you. Anyone else want to complain?
Nobody did. I was surprised at how quickly people backed off and unpacked whatever they've been doing before. Nobody complained too loudly as we shoved our way through the crowd and from the way others who didn't stride it seemed this was the norm. Here, I was coming to understand might be right.
Hello there. What about a lady? What perhaps a sir? A group of men and women were gathered in the stall behind him watched by another merchant.
Were they whores or slaves? I wasn't trying to think too long about it. No, I have a girl. Get a second!
Review on something else! Bullets! Get some trees! Boos!
Bad! K! Decadence! Mad man!
Nose powder! Not interested! Not interested! Right!
Wait, decadence sounds good. How much? Twenty pack! Oh shit!
Not even if it was pure which it probably isn't. Eight bucks. Ah, we have an expert here, do we? Can't blame it for trying.
You have to understand it's hard to get products that think the way they are. Ten! Eight! Eight!
Fine! For me and two of my buddies here that's twenty-four bucks. Twenty-four! A woman's clothing shop with a window would be shattered.
Where the man had been stood in the display window there were three women and a girl. The girl stepped back as the crowd surged forward reaching for her. No red band on her wrist. She wasn't here by choice.
Let's go. We should help her. There's at least a hundred people here that need help. We can't save them all.
We need to help her. Okay, we'll fucking sleep tonight if you walk away from this. You've got a little superhero showing through there. I'm going to help her with or without you even if that means using my powers no unsettle leaves of the winds.
Okay, okay. Probably don't have to go that far. Minor? Lisa pulled on Minor's arm and he bent down so she could speak in his ear.
Minor straightened and stepped onto the stage. He ignored the privacy step behind the girl caught her around the waist and then threw her over one shoulder. I'm buying this one. Whoever brought her, here's your fucking money.
He revealed what was in his clenched fist, money and pills. The crowd tore into one another fighting over what had fallen onto their heads and shoulders. Lisa lunged toward and caught the risk of an older man and I saw that she'd just stopped returning a knife on Minor. I moved to back her up kicking the guy in the side of the knee and sealing his weapon.
Demoralized, the crowd let us be and continued to scrap over the bills and pills. I was swiftly losing peace and humanity as we liked it. Not that I had much to say. Let me go!
Let me go! Put her down at the alcohol over there. You're safe. We're not doing anything to you.
What? She's right. You're as safe as you can get the next little while. Oh, God.
Don't thank him. Thank her. We wouldn't have gone out of our way to help if she hadn't been stubborn. Before I had a chance to respond, the girl threw her arms around me.
Thank you. I didn't do anything. Thank you. Oh, my God.
What? You went to Winslow High. No. Yes, you're a locker girl.
I almost didn't recognize you without the glasses, but everyone at school knows who you are. You're with the merchants now? You're thinking of the wrong person. No, no, no.
I'm almost positive. You were that girl that got shoved in like that rank locker with all that stuff they carried away in the fire hazard bags? That girl who went so mentally had to have a group of cops and paramedics haul you away for the first month of... Enough!
Oh, oh, God. I'm sorry. You know, I didn't think about how it would bother you, you know, saying that. I really didn't want to help, you know, to do something back then, but...
But you didn't. Just like everyone else, you left me in that locker. You didn't go get help. You didn't report to people who did it, What's going on?
We came here for an errand. Up to locker girl here to decide if you can take along. You can't leave here, can you? She can come.
More dead weight. No, for someone with a primary job of giving people medical care, you're pretty dead set against helping others. I have a low tolerance for people who get themselves into an ugly situation and then expect office to bail them out. That's fine, just so long as you do your job.
I always do. What's going on? Who are you? Just shut up and keep up.
When we see him, I'll do the talking. Sure. Jaw had one steel-toed boot planted on the same wooden bench that Bryce was seated on. His broad got almost in the boy's face.
Beside Bryce was a teenage girl with bleach-worn hair who was almost lying to your quest to mention her attempt to get back from the job. This your boy? Yeah. What happened, Gracie?
You joined the merchants in the black to tell your sister, go to stay with her, then give all the info on where she's staying to your new friends? He's that big a scumbag. Not what happened. Then tell me a story, kid.
Keep in mind, what you say plays a big role on what happens in the next few minutes. There's no story to tell. Our house falls down, my family moves in with my dad's friend, everyone else goes to the word, I'm left the two lamest fucking families ever. I was doing more chores than my life combined.
Poor fucking baby. Got sick and landed me better and my sister dragged me to the church. Same fucking thing. Lane people, lane places I just know I'm going to be doing more fucking chores or earn my keep.
Fuck that. So people came in to trash the church and figured, hey, there's a way out. Have some fun. He cast a few plans to the bleach-worn girl next to him.
Got a reality check for you. Those people who trash the church, they hurt your sister. What? No!
She's an ICU bro. Hey, sister fuckers! The music had died all at once. All heads were turning to look the same direction.
A crude platform had been pulled together at one side of the mall. The leading figures were the merchants. Skidmark stood at the front. Squealer was at his side.
Behind them stood their subordinates. I recognized Trainwreck, but there were six more I couldn't place. Six who, for all I mean, were new to the cape scene. Trainwreck's presence was interesting.
Was he still with Coyle on our side? That's more cape scene than I had a month ago. I've been recruiting. You quimjockies up for tonight's main event?
They don't get any better than this! Skidmark threw two beams from his hands. They changed the color of the flooring, creating bands of glowing ground six or seven feet wide. The people who found themselves in the middle of the effect were dragged towards the blue side as if they were standing on a steep slope.
Anyone who touched the purple side was caught in with a greater force, dragged through to the blue side and cast towards the bulk of the crowd. Anyone trying to leave found strong resistance as if they were trying to move against a strong headwind on an oil slick ground. Skidmark repeated the process to draw what I realized was a crude square in the middle of them all, the blue sides facing inward. Instead of simply pushing against those who touched them, they threw people back towards the center of the ring.
You piss-licking losers know what the red armband means! Bloodshed violence! We've got ourselves a brief or all brawl! Last five standing in the ring get a prize!
No rules! I don't give a shit! Staying fuck if you jump in at the last second or if you use a weapon! As it goes!
I can see some of the faces of the people trapped in the ring. Most of them were cheering. Oh, fuck me! He's trying to get people to have trigger events!
That's how he's recruiting para-humans! Our contestants don't seem to be too excited! Need an incentive? Let me get you cock garglers what you stand to win!
Skidmark placed a metal box on the railing and popped it open. Placed what looked like a metal canister on the railing then withdrew the next. By the time he was done five metal cylinders were spaced out in front of him. Before we gave our winners the pick of the pick, best stuff our boys and girls have been able to grab from the rich assholes with their fanciest fuck houses and jobs.
But tonight is fucking special because we won the lottery when we found this shit! He withdrew a copper glass vial from the canister and gripped it in his right hand. Super powers in the cam, motherfuckers! What?
Is he for real? Can he do that? I don't think he's lying. Woo!
One of the merchants in the ring had just bludgeoned someone with a length of pipe. Backing away he found someone He knew and through some unspoken agreement, they drew together, each protecting the other's back. At the corner nearest to us, a woman got smashed in the nose. This ray of blood landed in the area of Skidmark's power and shot straight back into the melee.
We should go. Bring the boy. And this girl. Leave her.
Skidmark gripped the railings he hunched over it, bringing a smile with teeth that seemed to be every color but white. His eyes were almost glittering as he watched the chaos he'd set in motion. We moved as a group. We saw soldiers in a tight circle around us with Bryce.
We sat with the rescued girl and me in the center. We made our way toward the nearest exit, and her way was barbed on holding brawl between two groups of good distance from the main spectacle. Thomas! Mom!
The girl who was on the bench with Bryce ran for the thick of the melee surrounding the ring. Bryce managed to struggle for you when after her. Grabbing his girlfriend, he looked the other way, past the glowing perimeter of Skidmark's arena to her middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair, and a taller man with a scar on his lip stood. There were the same people who had attacked the church.
The man, Thomas, back in with a wave with his arm, and Bryce and his girlfriend ran, dropping to the ground as they touched the border of the ring. The effect of Skidmark's power sent them co-reeding into the ongoing free-for-all. My voice was lost in the cacophony of the crowd. Should I, should I use my- No, the moment enemy makes their presence known, Skidmark might try to break this up and send the crowd after any unfamiliar faces.
Not saying they get us, but they could, and there'd be other victims too. Fuck, we should do something. Well, I'm open to ideas. Can we, can we run?