Cherry Blossom Girls Box Set

by Harmon Cooper

  “You have a point there,” I said. “But we were afraid that in your enraged state you’d do something to the vehicle, which could have killed all of us.”

  Stella took a step closer to me. “I have control over my powers.”

  At my side now, Dorian placed a finger in her mouth.

  “Try it,” Stella said, her eyes flaring. “I dare you.”

  “Stella, you may be incredibly strong, but you can’t take all three of us.” Grace reminded the girl in her calm, clear way. “I suggest you stand down and that you continue to stand down.”

  Stella glared at me, but then her posture softened. “Fine, but just trust me when I say I have control over my powers.” She took a deep breath. “We don’t have any clothes, right?”

  “Nope!” Michelle said. “That’s why I’m wearing this robe, same as Gideon. He gave me his shirt.”

  My phone buzzed again and I waved them all toward the door. “Let’s just get some food and then get this sorted out. Including some new clothes.”

  To the breakfast buffet we went, the original CBGs up front, Writer Gideon – aka the Manuscript Procrastinator – in the middle, Stella and Michelle following behind us.

  I took over the waffle station once we arrived, hogging the waffle maker to the point that some guy cleared his throat and was about to say something to me when Grace took over, and he suddenly wasn’t hungry for waffles any longer.

  I suppose I could have given it a shot myself, but I just went about my business, pouring in the batter, closing the lid, turning it so the waffle could cook, and prying that little fucker out of there.

  I got fancy with it too, adding some whipped cream, sprinkles, and a swirl of chocolate. Michelle wolfed down … three? No, it was four, and the others each had one. While I played the role of pastry chef, Grace made sure everyone had fruit and meat. Cereal too, but we avoided the eggs because they looked like melted chalk that had been dyed yellow with truck stop piss.

  My phone buzzed again, reminding me of the message. “Fine, fine.” I pulled it out of my pocket, checked the screen, and jerked in surprise, dropping the phone onto my waffle.

  Grace looked at me, immediately concerned.

  “What’s going on?” Stella asked.

  I retrieved my phone from the mess of syrup and whipped cream on my waffle and began wiping it off. Not yet able to voice what I’d just read.

  “What happened?” Michelle asked. “Did you ruin your waffle? I can make you a new one!”

  “No, it’s not that,” I said, distracted by the message I’d seen.

  “Read the message to all of us,” Grace said, her eyes white.

  “Okay, here goes.” I swallowed hard, well aware that our day was milliseconds away from getting much more complicated. “Gideon, it’s me, Ken. They’re letting me write you this message with the hope that you will actually respond. I’m being held in a warehouse in Reno, Nevada, along with two others, Fiona and Ingrid. I’ve attached the address here. I know you likely won’t come, but if you do, know that you may be saving our lives. If you haven’t responded by making an appearance at sunset tonight, they will kill the three of us.”

  “It has to be a trap,” I said under my breath. “Ken can’t be alive.”

  “What’s the address?” Stella pushed away from the table and stood, her fists tightening and relaxing as she stared me down.

  A few people in the dining area took notice.

  “We can’t go,” Dorian said coolly. “It’s definitely a trap; we haven’t heard from Ken in days. They’re just using his email to set us up.”

  “We already lost Adam,” Stella said, referring to the little psychic fucker who tried to double-cross us. “I’m not losing Fiona and Ingrid too.”

  I continued to wipe the syrup off my phone. “We’re not going to lose them, Stella, but we have to go about this in a smarter way. If we just show up at this address, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

  She sat down with a grunt.

  The table vibrated a bit, and I looked over at her to see that strange, nearly transparent aura radiating off her form.

  “So to clarify, this begins with a plan. A good plan – no, a goddamn good plan.”

  “We should destroy the New Mexico facility and move on,” Veronique said, “call their bluff.”

  “Don’t be heartless,” Stella told her.

  “I’m not being heartless; I’m being pragmatic. Did they forget to go over pragmatism with you in your training? Fiona and Ingrid are still very young; Mother could easily flip their minds.”

  “Veronique is right about destroying the New Mexico facility, but I don’t think we should leave our friends behind.”

  “They’re your friends too?” Michelle asked, beaming at Dorian.

  Dorian nodded. “We share a commonality, so yes, even though I don’t know them as well as you, I do consider them friends.”

  “I’m not saying they aren’t friends, but what if we didn’t go after them and just kept to our mission?” Veronique asked. “We could save them later. I think everyone here is misunderstanding my intentions. They won’t retire them yet.”

  “We’re going after them,” I said with finality. “And if they want to ambush us, we’re just going to have to be more prepared.”

  Veronique took a sip of her coffee. “If that’s what everyone here wants, then let’s do it. But know that I’m against it.”

  “Okay, so let’s go over what we know,” I said. “Judging by the way Michelle says they came to Colorado, it sounds like they have a teleporter too. One thing I can do is figure out who this teleporter is. There may be others, but at least I can try to narrow it down. They may have different powers than you, Dorian. Also, I probably should have asked this already, but have any of you trained with other teleporters?”

  “When my power came to me, they had me train with a teleporter named Danielle,” Dorian said as she stabbed into a slice of honeydew melon. “I think she was based at one of the West Coast locations.”

  “Anything you remember about her?”

  “She was good. Just showed me the basics. She was better than me at the time, and she didn’t have another ability aside from heightened strength.”

  “Okay, Danielle, a super strength teleporter,” I said, making a mental note of the name. “I’ll see what I can uncover after breakfast. There will definitely be the other three: Victoria, the steel woman; Augustin, the fire-and-ice guy; and Chloe, the sound-to-light lady. They attacked in Colorado; I’m guessing they’ll be there.”

  “And Mother will probably be there,” Grace said. “Who knows how many others.”

  “So who is best against who?” I asked. “That’s what we need to decide now. Regarding Victoria, Veronique can pretty much hand the metal woman her ass. So that part is easy.”

  “But she doesn’t always have to be metal, right?” Michelle asked.

  “You’re right,” I said, recalling the videos I’d watched. “And she’s pretty strong in her base form as well. Still, Veronique, that’s all you. And if they have more guys in exoskeletal suits, that’s you too. And bullets. You’re in charge of bullets and all projectiles. Sorry, it seems like a lot.”

  Veronique offered everyone a smug smile. “I’ll need to feed.”

  “For sure. Moving on … Stella, your abilities can help protect us and they can stop our adversaries from getting their footing. You can take a lot without actually sustaining any damage, but I don’t think you’d stand up well to Mother. That would be your only weakness, so with that in mind, you should focus on Chloe because she can easily affect all of us with her light and sound attacks.”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” said Stella.

  “And because you walk this interesting line between defense and offense, you have to be willing to change your tactics on a dime.”

  “Got it.” She rubbed her hands together under the table.

  “What about me?” asked Michelle.

  “We think you should stay here,” Grace
told her. “It would be safer.”

  Michelle’s face hardened. “No, I’m going too. There’s no way I’m not going to help.”

  “She should come,” Stella said.

  Dorian raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

  “Let her,” said Veronique. “Everyone needs to get their feet wet.”

  “I have more powers than Gideon,” Michelle reminded all of us.

  Dorian cracked a smile. The others, not so much.

  “Gee, Michelle, thanks,” I said.

  “She’s not wrong,” Stella added.

  I took off my glasses and used my robe to clean them. “Okay, Michelle is coming. Moving right along …”

  “That’s fine by me, Writer Gideon,” Grace said.

  “I didn’t … yeah, okay, you know what to do,” I told her.

  “What’s she going to do?” Michelle asked with a mouth full of waffle.

  “She’s going to take down Augustin first using her nightmare ability. We don’t need someone shooting fire and ice all over the place. Then she’s going to concentrate on Danielle.”

  “And I’m supposed to take on Mother?” Dorian asked.

  “Temporarily. You’re supposed to distract her with your creations. Angel won’t be there; there’s no way that motherfucker – sorry, Michelle – has his body back yet. Damn, we really should have killed him. Sorry again, Michelle.”

  “Who is Angel again?” she asked.

  “I thought we told you about him last night,” I said.

  “You did?”

  “The backpack. Angel was in the backpack you saw floating in the garage.”

  “The backpack’s name was Angel? I thought Grace was the backpack and the number she had us call was traced.”

  I exchanged glances with the three original CBGs. “So, um, how do I say this?”

  “There was a head in the backpack,” Veronique said. “That head belonged to a Super named Angel, who happens to be Mother’s lover. He also can fly.” She finished her coffee and left to get more, leaving me to sweep up the pieces and clarify what she’d just said.

  “That’s right!” I told Michelle and Stella. “Angel can also heal, so we cut his head off and his head was still … alive.”

  “Wait, in the backpack?” Michelle asked, her lips curling as a look of disgust came over her face.

  “Yeah, and that’s what happened.”

  Stella frowned. “So this was all your fault, then?”

  “Angel was supposed to be collateral, and trust me when I say he would have given us a run for his money if we hadn’t held him for a while. My point is, he won’t be there. And that’s to our advantage. I know all this looks really bad and that we could hash it out for a while, but we have something else we need to discuss.”

  “Yeah?” Stella asked.

  “The New Mexico facility.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three: To WalMacy’s and Beyond!

  “I’m going with you,” I reminded Dorian.

  “You’ve already said that,” she told me as she studied an image of a shopping complex in Pueblo. There was a clearing near it, a perfect place to teleport to.

  “I mean to New Mexico.”

  She pulled her hair into a ponytail and gave me a weary look. We were back in our room, which was pretty cramped for six people. I’d already gone over Danielle’s abilities, which I’d written down on the hotel stationery so Grace and the others would know what she was capable of.

  There wasn’t much difference between her and Dorian, but she had teleportation as her main – and only – power, so she was clearly better at it.

  It was going to be a tough fight, that was for sure, but knowing this didn’t fully prepare me for what was to come.

  But the future wasn’t on my mind as I reached out to Dorian, and Grace took both our hands.

  “Be careful,” Michelle said. The Super Teen was still in a robe, resting on the bed next to Stella while both of them watched an action movie. Veronique was in Stella’s chair, hunched over with her elbows on her knees, her face a visage of worry.

  “We’ll be back,” I said, and then we were gone.

  We appeared in a dry meadow, the grass yellow with a smattering of green. No butterflies, but there were a few bees floating around in search of wildflowers. Grace morphed into a bearded man in a flannel shirt and jeans.

  “You look like a real Coloradoan now,” I told her.

  “That’s what I was going for; I saw this guy yesterday,” she said in a gruff, alpha male voice.

  We took the short walk to the shopping center and found the vehicle we were looking for, a Ford Expedition. Or a Tahoe, a Suburban, a Yukon, a Land Rover – something like that.

  Grace touched the door handle and picked up data about the owner. “A woman,” she said, “here to buy something at the Michael Spades shop for her daughter.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  Having spent time at the outlet malls in Manchester, Vermont, I knew that the best practice was to get in and out. A surgical strike, as it were. Otherwise, you’d get bombarded by people and their children, sudden discount specials you can’t say no to, and a lot less money than you went in with.

  “Speaking of which … shit, we need clothing,” I said, immediately going against my original intent. “I mean, Michelle is still wearing a bathrobe.”

  “Let’s get the woman’s car keys first,” Grace said.

  “Good call.”

  I led the two CBGs through the families with strollers, the service dogs, the cool-looking teens repping whatever latest tech gadget made you look part of the ‘in crowd,’ the boyfriends and husbands shopping with their significant others, and a few children who seemed lost.

  Into the Michael Spades store we went, where we found the woman browsing through bags designed to resemble a peacock’s tail feathers.

  Grace locked eyes with her and the woman quickly exited the store. We followed her out, got her keys, and bid her farewell as we continued to Old Banana Navy Gap Republic to get some clothes.

  Summer was still a few months away, but the store already had the coming season’s wares on display, their walls plastered with beach scenes of sand pails, flip-flops, cute models, and good times.

  “Let’s just get stuff for everyone,” I said, taking in the store and its variety of options. I had a couple thousand in my pocket – never leave home without a roll of money – and we were able to clean up and keep it way under a grand.

  With loads of shopping bags in our hands, we continued to the parking lot and found our ride. “Time to get supplies,” I told the two as I started up the SUV. We hit the highway and found the WalMacy’s, about fifteen minutes away, and I went over what we needed.

  WalMacy’s was the same as a WalMacy’s anywhere – slightly depressing and exceptionally gray – but they really were rolling back prices, and soon, we had three shopping carts filled with nail polish remover, rubbing alcohol, nails, circular saws, thumbtacks, backpacks, fanny packs, Hanes T-shirts, lighter fluid, red gas cans, and paint thinner.

  Grace covered any suspicion the checkout lady or others may have with a wave of her hand, and we were back to the vehicle in no time flat.

  “We just need to get gas now,” I told them when we got back on the highway.

  I found a Chevron and filled up the tank. Then I gassed up all seven of the gas canisters and placed them in the back with all the other liquids.

  When we returned to the hotel, we left all the flammables in the SUV and brought the clothes and supplies upstairs.

  “The unicorn shirt is great!” Michelle said as she disrobed – I looked away, not a pedo! – and slipped it on.

  “We got clothes for everyone so take your pick,” I said. “Now, time to get down to business.”

  With all the supplies laid out on the bed, Dorian and Veronique started showing Michelle and Stella how to make the frag pouches.

  “Yep, fill the backpacks to the brim, and leave a little room in the fanny packs,” I rem
inded them.

  “I can totally run around and hand them to you guys if you need me too,” Michelle offered. She showed me what she meant by suddenly appearing beside me with a frag pouch in her hand. I’d heard her move, but it was remarkable that she was able to operate in such cramped quarters.

  “Actually, it’s not a bad idea,” Veronique said, busily packing a bag full of circular saws.

  As we had planned, Dorian relaxed on the chair in the corner, and I plugged into her neck, playing with her abilities a bit.

  By the time I finished, they looked like this:

  Main Second: Teleportation

  Tele-Sphere Radius: 7

  Conscious Spatial Awareness: 9

  Recharge Speed: 8

  Restoration Speed: 4

  Teleportation Rapidity: 7

  Teleportation Distance: 5

  Empathetic Teleportation: 3

  Banishment: 1

  Overcharge: 4

  “Do you feel okay?” I asked her.

  “I think I’m fine, but we’re going to need to test it.”

  “It’ll work.”

  “You don’t know that,” she said, her eyes softening when she saw just how much I believed in her.

  “She’s right,” said Grace as she packed another pouch.

  “Okay, let’s do it then. Let’s just test the bed.”

  “The bed?”

  “Yep, let’s give it a shot.” I sat on the bed that wasn’t packed with supplies.

  Dorian sat next to me, and we were just about to give it a shot when my phone rang. It was a call coming in over GoogleFace, from Jake Archibald.

  “Gideon Caldwell? Hi, this is Jake Archibald from EBAYmazon, I’m the author representative that reached out to you. I wanted to see if you’ve sent the contract yet and ask how progress is coming along on that third manuscript. About the contract, if you would prefer to sign it online, I can arrange that as well. We normally just have people sign online, but we had some issues with authors saying they preferred paper ones.”

  “Yeah, hey, Mr. Archibald,” I said half-heartedly. It sucks when your dreams have been realized just as your nightmares are about to play out. I really didn’t have the time to deal with this.