“Out further, left, left, left,” the miniature sun slid twenty or so feet with every order I gave as I tracked the enemy’s position and the movements of the orb with the binoculars. ”Short bit left and then out!”
I couldn’t look directly at the thing, but I saw Mannequin and Siberian wheel around as the blinding light of the orb caught their attention. Mannequin ran, and Siberian lunged forward.
The orb slid out into position around the mouth of the alley and then rolled over Jack, Bonesaw and Hatchet Face.
“Report!” Tattetale’s voice came from the walkie-talkie. ”I don’t have visual.”
“Sundancer just hit Jack, Hatchet Face and Bonesaw.”
“Where are the rest?”
“Crawler heading for Grue and Ballistic, Mannequin running down Tillman in Regent and Trickster’s general direction. Shatterbird’s going for the bird’s-eye view. I don’t think she’s seen any of us except Grue and Ballistic.”
“Siberian?”
“Missing.”
“Shit. Assume they’re all alive, then. Sundancer’s power still in that area?”
Alive? “It is.”
“Then keep it there!”
I glanced at Sundancer and she gave me a grim nod.
Crawler had reached Grue and was scaling the side of the building with surprising speed. I’d taken him for a quadruped, but apparently his joints were modular. His proportions were more simian, now, and he was climbing up the side of the building twice as fast as I could have run it if it were laid out horizontally.
Part three of the plan had been to hit them as hard as we could. Trickster was using his rifle to take shots at Mannequin, but I couldn’t see if it was having any effect. Ballistic finally decided to contribute, and fired a warhead at Mannequin. Then he reached into the box he and Grue had unloaded from Sirius’s harness and grabbed two more. He fired them into the smoke cloud that had expanded around Mannequin.
I could see Crawler reaching the edge of the roof, not twenty feet from Grue and Ballistic.
Part four of the plan? Avoid direct confrontation.
“Trickster,” Grue said, the one word buzzing over the walkie-talkies.
Crawler disappeared, and an empty pickup truck toppled from the edge of the roof to the ground. Crawler was back in the vicinity of the other Nine, not far from Sundancer’s burning orb. Blocks away from Grue and Ballistic.
The monster lunged after Grue and Ballistic again, and was supported this time by Shatterbird, who conjured up a storm of glass shards to pelt the pair. Ballistic retaliated by firing a warhead at Shatterbird, who prematurely detonated the explosive with a thick cluster of glass, shielding herself against the worst of the blast with another wall. She drew more walls around herself and maintained her assault.
Bitch whistled, and Sirius started bounding across rooftops to head our way. I could see Shatterbird turn and notice us.
That was fine. I sent a payload of bugs her way; wasps and bees each carrying several spiders, and more expendable caterpillars and the like that were smeared in capsaicin. I wanted to make absolutely sure she knew where we were and that she wouldn’t ignore us.
Crawler reached the base of the building only to be switched with yet another car, resetting his position a second time. He roared in frustration, then turned toward the miniature sun, breaking into an all out run as he charged for it.
“Sundancer, switch off!” I called out.
The orb disappeared, and Crawler crashed through the alleyway, only barely avoiding Jack, Siberian and Bonesaw. The edges of the alley were unrecognizable, and the walls were on fire, but the trio were untouched. Siberian had Jack draped over one shoulder and another hand clasping Bonesaw by the back of her shirt, holding her high. The pavement was a molten liquid beneath them.
I clicked the button on the walkie-talkie and informed the others, “Siberian’s granting her invulnerability to Jack and Bonesaw!”
Tattletale said something, but I missed it over the roar of noise that came with Sundancer using her power. She was forming another orb. Everyone else was busy with their own things.
Siberian was protecting Jack and Bonesaw. That was both good and bad. We’d planned this strategy under the assumption that Siberian would come for us and we’d use the dogs, Grue’s Darkness, my bug-decoys and Trickster’s teleportation to keep our distance from her until we decided we needed to make a run for it. All of that was in line with part four of the plan, maintaining our distance and avoiding a toe to toe fight. In the meantime, we’d intended to use our ranged abilities to take out Jack, Cherish, Bonesaw and Burnscar.
She was protecting them, which we hadn’t anticipated, but she couldn’t do that and come after us.
Or maybe she can. I saw Siberian virtually toss Bonesaw in the air, the girl wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck as she landed. Holding her two teammates, Siberian sprinted for Trickster and Regent. She was fast, but it was a speed borne of her peculiar powers, more enhanced strength than augmented acceleration. Not so different from Battery on that count.
Air resistance and inertia didn’t hamper her in the same ways. More than that, whatever it was that made her invincible and untouchable to any outside force, she had the ability to snap it out to affect any surface she touched. Her strength was virtually limitless, and the pavement didn’t shatter with her footfalls because she made it as untouchable as she was.
Shatterbird, meanwhile, was drawing closer, using the glass-storm to bar Ballistic’s access to the crate of explosives. Grue’s power was serving to counter hers, and any glass that entered the darkness seemed to drop straight down like rain, bereft of her abilities. Momentum still carried, however, and any glass shards that entered at a high enough velocity seemed to exit at roughly the same speed.
I wasn’t sure about Ballistic, his costume was among the best money could buy, but I wasn’t sure what that entailed. Grue, at least, should be able to endure a beating. Beneath his motorcycle leathers, he was wearing the costume I’d made for him and nearly finished. It wouldn’t protect his head, but his helmet would serve in a pinch.
Even if they wouldn’t be cut to shreds, I wasn’t sure they would survive if Shatterbird detonated that case of rocket launcher rounds with a shard in the right place or a large enough impact.
“Bitch,” I spoke. ”The boxes!”
Bitch was sliding off of Bentley’s back, opening the first metal box and stretching out the contents.
The case was a piece of camping gear I’d noticed ages ago, when I’d first been buying things for my costume. A watertight case for luggage with a metal frame inside that campers could stretch out to use as a drying rack for clothes and towels.
We didn’t have luggage inside. No, the box held parts of the mannequins I’d been using for costume design. Strung together with silk, two mannequins dangled from the frame.
Bitch adjusted the way one mannequin hung and headed over to set up the other case.
My bugs had reached Shatterbird and started attacking her. Brown recluses, capsaicin, wasps, hornets and bees. I’d never attacked someone like this. Not someone who couldn’t heal. I could see her thrashing, trying to stay aloft even as her concentration faltered. The brown recluses were insurance of a sort. If we happened to take out Bonesaw, it could mean Shatterbird was out of the equation as well.
The darkness Grue had generated around the rooftop disappeared all at once. Grue and Ballistic crouched at the far corner. Canceling the darkness was a signal.
The mannequins hanging from the first rack disappeared, replaced by the two boys. Grue and Ballistic disentangled themselves from the metal frames and hurried to our side.
Trickster and Regent appeared soon after the other frame was up. I could see Siberian on the rooftop. They’d escaped just in time to avoid being caught in a melee with her.
Trickster rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck and adjusted his hat.
“Don’t waste time,” Grue growled. ”Do it.”
; “Times like this call for a certain flourish,” Trickster said. Trickster withdrew a small remote from his pocket and depressed the button.
The rooftops the other two teams had been situated on virtually shattered with the explosions. The bazooka rounds had also carried a small collection of plastic explosives. Since Trickster’s team had only needed the sniper rifle, their case held a hell of a lot more.
Part five done. Baiting the hook, reeling them in, then hitting them as hard as we could.
It wouldn’t stop them, of course. The only ones that explosion might have hurt were Shatterbird and maybe Mannequin, if he’d survived Ballistic’s attack and slipped around through some other angle. Ideal world, it would also slow down Siberian. More realistically, I was hoping that they’d get pissed, and they’d get sloppy.
I chanced a quick look through the binoculars. Crawler was stampeding towards the site of the explosion, Cherish was still prone on the ground, bleeding out from Trickster’s sniper fire, and I couldn’t make out the others.
Wait, no. I could see rubble shifting as Siberian shrugged it aside. It was enough debris that Crawler would have been hampered, but even with her hands tied up in holding her teammates, she cast the chunks of concrete and brick aside with the same sort of ease that I might walk through a pile of balloons. She shook her head, and her hair fanned out behind her, draping partially over Bonesaw, who was riding her piggy-back.
Jack wasn’t folded over her shoulder anymore. He was standing, holding her hand, a wide smile spread across his face. He said something, some exclamation, without dropping his grin for a second.
And Shatterbird? I looked through the rubble that had been cast over the street around the building. She was lying on the ground, struggling to her feet. The glints of glass shards sparkled for a hundred feet around her. I quickly tossed my binoculars aside. They’d be a liability if she attacked us, now.
Here was the gamble. We’d hurt them, injured their pride, we’d maybe killed Mannequin and we’d incapacitated Cherish. If Ballistic had been on the ball, he would have blown Cherish to smithereens. As it was, a stray bullet wouldn’t cut it. Bonesaw’s known talents included the ability to raise the dead.
Grue used his darkness to form a dozen false-images of shadow-shrouded silhouettes on nearby rooftops. I did the same with my bugs, but mine were animated, moving.
We’d have to run pretty damn soon. There were seven of us, but only two dogs. It was less than ideal. I’d tried to get Bitch to bring another dog, but she didn’t feel any of the others were trained well enough to bear riders.
The remaining members of the Nine charged, Shatterbird rising from her position to fly straight for us, barriers of glass surrounding her. Siberian carried Jack and Bonesaw with leaping bounds, while Crawler headed for us.
I crossed my fingers, watching intently.
Two ways this could go for the final phase of our plan.
Well, three ways. But I was hoping the third possibility -my team getting caught and slaughtered- wouldn’t happen.
The first way this could play out was that Shatterbird’s flight over the buildings would make her faster than Crawler or Siberian, who had to climb or circumvent the obstacles.
When I’d brought this up during the meeting, assuming it would happen, it had been Tattletale who pointed out that I was maybe underestimating how fast Crawler and Siberian could be. She was right. Despite her ability to fly, Shatterbird was falling behind.
Which meant we went with plan B.
“You up for this, Grue?” I asked, “I could do it. My plan, and I was first to volunteer.”
“No, you can’t run fast enough with those burns.” Grue replied, as he hurried to the side of the rooftop furthest from the Nine. He glanced down. “Trickster, I’m ready!”
“Just need an opportunity,” Trickster said, watching the incoming members of the Slaughterhouse Nine. They were closing a little too fast for comfort. Sirius had arrived, and we were all getting saddled. Bitch, Sundancer and I on Bentley, and Regent, Trickster and Ballistic on Sirius. At Regent’s orders, Sirius moved to Grue’s side.
“Sooner than later!” Grue said.
“Do you want to die?” Trickster asked.
“No, but I’m willing to break something!”
“Your call,” Trickster said. ”Three, two, one!”
Grue leaped from the edge of the roof. In that same instant, Trickster swapped him with Shatterbird.
She tumbled for a second, got a grip with her flight, and then steadied.
Then Regent hit her with his power. Shatterbird flew into the corner of the roof, was thrown off-balance and tipped into the gap between buildings.
And Grue? I cast a glance backward. He’d dropped out of the air where Shatterbird had been flying, landing on a rooftop a distance below. I could see him struggling to his feet.
“Go, go!” Trickster screamed the words.
Our mounts leaped down into the same gap where Shatterbird had fallen. We made the usual zig-zagging descent down, leaping from wall to wall, and landed on either side of Shatterbird and Genesis.
Genesis looked like a cartoon caricature of a sumo wrestler, grotesquely obese and yellow skinned with eyes like black buttons. She was hairless, unclothed and sexless, and her skin was translucent and oily. Through the skin, I could make out the vague figure of Shatterbird, pounding on the walls of the stomach, her mouth opening in a scream that didn’t reach us. Glass shards were stirring around her, a blender whir cutting at the insides of Genesis’s belly.
“She’s going to cut through,” I said. ”Bitch, Regent, get the chains. I’ll try to stop her.”
Using my bugs, I formed words against the surface of Genesis’s belly. ’Stop’.
Shatterbird only intensified her attempts.
I gathered some black widow spiders and pressed them gently against the shiny, translucent skin. They were absorbed, drifting inside, and were soon crawling around the inside surface. Genesis obliged me by opening her mouth, giving me a direct route for the bugs to travel.
“Hurry,” Regent said. He was winding the chain around the jello-like yellow hand. Fingerless hands gripped the chain for further traction.
Shatterbird noticed the spiders. Her eyes widened as the volume of deadly spiders trapped in the bubble with her increased. I raked my finger beneath the message I’d drawn with the bugs, as if to underline it. ’Stop’.
She did. Glass shards fell into a pool around her feet.
“Go!” I shouted.
We ran, the two dogs side by side, pulling Genesis behind us like a chariot.
Drawing my bugs together, I covered us as best as I was able, creating other decoys, vague chariot-shaped lumps here and there, huddles of figures.
It would all be for nothing if they returned to Cherish, revived the girl and tracked us down.
“Left!” I ordered.
Bitch steered left. Regent hadn’t heard, but as the tension on the chains pulled Sirius to one side, he caught on and turned as well.
My bugs served as a navigation system, feeling out the shapes of our surroundings so I could work out a suitable path. We charged onward, with me giving occasional directions, until we found Cherish lying on the ground in a pool of blood.
“Get her!”
Bitch rode just to Cherish’s left, Regent rode just to the right, and Genesis rolled right over the girl. Cherish caught like glue, suffered an unfortunate few seconds of being dragged over the road’s surface, and was then drawn into Genesis’ bubble of a body.
My bugs gave me a sense of the Nine’s locations, and my decoys gave them pause once or twice. We could track them more easily than they could do the reverse, and we were soon far enough away that I couldn’t sense them.
■
We only slowed when we got to Coil’s underground base. We parked the dogs and then headed for the series of barred and locked doors. I glanced at Shatterbird and Cherish where they knelt in Genesis’ rotund body. We weren’t really givi
ng away information here. Crawler had apparently come this way, not so long ago.
It was a fifty-fifty chance whether Siberian and the other Nine would come this way. Cherish wasn’t around to give them information, but she might have provided details at an earlier point that Jack or one of the others could use to connect the dots. We’d cross that bridge when we got to it.
Coil was there to greet us with a Tattletale and a contingent of armed soldiers. We waited patiently as one of the soldiers scanned Shatterbird with a plastic wand. He looked at Coil and shook his head.
“This way,” Coil ordered.
How did he set this up so fast?
Shatterbird’s cell was large, twenty feet by twenty feet across, and the walls had the same textured black rubber soundproofing as the sound recording booths I’d seen in movies and on TV. I couldn’t see the speakers, but there was a noise similar to radio static filling the room, so loud I wouldn’t be able to hear if someone spoke.
With our weapons trained on Shatterbird, we stood by while one of Coil’s soldiers reached into Genesis’s stomach and hauled her out. She was chained to the ceiling with her arms stretched out to her sides, then divested of her costume, left only with a silk camisole and slip. Coil’s people wheeled in an x-ray machine and a tank of containment foam.
Shatterbird glared wordlessly at us until we’d exited the room and the heavy vault door blocked our view of her.
“She will be cavity searched and x-rayed to identify any hidden weapon or any devices Bonesaw or Mannequin might have implanted in her,” Coil spoke, after the doors were closed and the white noise was blocked out. ”Regent, we have a protective suit waiting for you. In the event that she does acquire something she can use her powers on, or if she has concealed anything on her person that is small enough to avoid radiographic detection, the suit will shield you until you’ve finished.”
Regent nodded.
“She was bitten by brown recluses,” I said. “I’d give her a full physical examination every thirty minutes, to be safe.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know standard treatment for bites of that kind,” Coil said.
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