by J. B. Garner
"As always, Indy, you are most direct and rightly so." As he picked his way past some delightful rat carcasses, Archer's mood seemed as cheery as ever. "It really comes down to the simple fact that, despite his own treachery, Lord Epic was ever eager to put my transgression behind him and welcome me with surprisingly open arms." He shot me a cocky smirk. "Well, once I had a chance to beg on bended knee for a second chance. I can be quite charming, you know."
"I won't argue with that." My mental focus was starting to falter from all the exertion. Pain and fatigue were starting to push through from the chase. "The thing is why the junkyard special there?" I gestured at his piecemeal equipment as I forced myself to continue slogging on.
"Ah yes, no matter how generous my former liege's spirits may have been, he was not so naive as to allow me to return to my full station." He chuckled and shook his head. "I could not fault him, considering I was, after all, planning on finding a way to bring down his regime the moment I could. In retrospect, though, I would attest his mercy to his own diminished state."
"First Twister talks about Epic hiding from people and then that." I forced a quick two step out of my aching calf to get ahead of Archer and held an arm out to stop him. "What the hell is going on?"
Archer stopped, looking into my eyes with pursed lips. After another few moments of silent brow-wrinkling, he finally spoke.
"I am not sure I can describe it in a way to do it justice, milady." He stroked his goatee. "Outwardly, Epic seems little different, perhaps a shade more man than the near-divinity he displayed before. More so it was an ethereal notion, a certain sense of broken spirit. Gone was the booming voice and lordly proclamations. Ye gods, he even deigned to walk instead of fly, something I had never once seen prior." The bowman shook his head slightly. "I have only one conjecture -"
"I broke him."
"Most astute." Archer shrugged. "It should come as little surprise to you that I have seen the footage after I abandoned my Crusader 'chaperones' for freedom. It wouldst seem you beat Lord Epic in more ways than one that fated morn."
I raised my blocking arm and fell back into march. What Archer was saying couldn't be better news and yet I wasn't finding myself jumping for joy. It wasn't just the agony in my calf or the burning ache in my back. It wasn't even the great unknown of who had made it to safety and who hadn't. Something else felt wrong about this whole thing. I cracked my neck and tried to ignore those nagging worries.
"'T would seem I have offended in some way."
"No, no, it's just, well, nothing. Just very tired." I forced myself to crack a smile. "Rough week."
"Perchance we may find good news when we reach our destination," he offered. "Following the police frequencies was how I came to find of your situation in the first place and I did not hear mention of any captures or deaths. Of course, that assumes much as the police now are mere fodder for my former brethren but it is a little something, eh?"
"It's better than nothing." It wasn't too much further until we would be close to Mackenzie's old lair. There wasn't much there, considering most of its occupants were ghoulishly animated corpses, but Ian and his few human assistants still had some basic quarters there at the least. "Hey, you know, you didn't tell me how you managed to slip your watchdogs without your armor."
"Oh, that was a trifle," Archer said. "They forgot the most important of truths, that it is not the suit makes the hero, but what lies inside."
I didn't try to suppress the smile that put on my lips.
Archer and I stepped into the broad tunnel before the retired pumping chamber that Ian Mackenzie had almost beaten me to death in. No reason not to call a spade a spade. I was only alive now because he had wanted it. My fists clenched involuntarily; in the end, yes, he had been stopped but the memories lingered. I forced myself to glance over to Archer.
"Lights out." I clicked off my headlamp. Only a brief nod and the click of his own light interrupted his senses-straining sweep for movement. Once more plunged into stifling darkness, we tried our best to creep quietly towards the main chamber.
The human body, being the remarkable machine it is, did what it does best, adapting as best it could. My hearing sharpened and I could hear, faintly, the sounds of voices. A sudden hush fell over them and the silence ahead matched our own. Unfortunately, that snatch of quiet talking had been too indistinct, even for my sharpened senses, to recognize them as friend or foe. With no other choice, we continued.
Distance became abstract as, finally, the darkened archway beckoned ahead. I found myself frowning. My paranoia was surging and, to be frank, it was stupid. Not that there wasn't potential danger around every corner. In the situation I found myself in, that was obvious. The constant excessive caution and self-questioning were the problems.
I looked at the darker patch of shadow that I assumed was Archer and then back to the doorway.
"Alright, we're here." I stopped as I spoke, putting my hands on my hips. "You know it and we know you're there." I flicked on my headlamp. "Let's cut the crap. Is it time for cheers or time for a fight?"
"Well, part of me is delighted," a certain short-order cook's voice cut through the silence, "but you know, to be honest, part of me would have loved to spar with you." Quentin Strange stepped into the beam of my light. I had the distinct feeling that Archer probably wanted to shoot him.
"Nice to see you too, Quentin." I gazed past him. "So ... how did we do?"
"Indy Indy Indy!" That cry was my only warning before the ankle-deep water was torn up by the Human Tank's treads as he plowed into me with a huge bear hug.
"Does that answer your question?"
The only times in my life before then that I had truly been overtaken by emotion was during each of my parents' funerals. Otherwise, I did a pretty good job at rolling with life's emotional roller-coaster, though admittedly not as well since the Whiteout and the mounting changes it had made to my existence. Still, that aside, I was, for a third time, completely overwhelmed by my feelings. The plus side, though, was that this time, instead of grief and sorrow, it was joy. Things weren't perfect, not until I knew if Duane and Rachel were alive and safe (even in a jail, they could be rescued), but they were much better than they had been in weeks.
I really wasn't even sure how long it had been since Archer and I had arrived at this point. All I knew is that I had never hugged so many people as tightly as that in my recent memory. Medusa was beyond overjoyed, though how much of that was because her best friend was back or that Hexagon was back to his usual Southern gentleman ways I couldn't say. Tank was his usual hyperactive self and Eye, though subtle as always, seemed rather pleased to know her, well, ward, for lack of a better term, was safe and sound once more.
The closest thing to a brusque reaction to be had was, predictably, from Extinguisher. Even that was mostly happiness tinged with the undercurrent of ... something else. I could only think about the words we exchanged falling out of the sky. Those helmets didn't take over someone's mind; there was every likelihood that represented the truth more than I wanted to admit.
By what I had gathered, it was Quentin and his team who had gotten here first. To my surprise, their mission had been surprisingly easy. Forcing the remaining Five out into the open, the advantages had truly been all on their side: Voltage could short the helmets safely, Quentin could deal with any resistance, and Medusa's connection with Hexagon had taken the biggest threat straight off the table.
"That is where we came into the picture," Mind's Eye said, levitating above the slick stone floor next to the Human Tank. "I would wager it was our friends' great success that caused our own difficulties. If only I knew for certain where Ms. Choi and Mr. Brooks were ..."
"Probably in custody," Twister opined. "Some of the tech boys had cooked up suppression cells for all sorts of powers a while ago."
If there had been any difficulties between my old team and our new erstwhile allies, the aging lawman was ignoring it. The Mighty Polymer, though, seemed almost painfully nervou
s. I guess I couldn't blame the girl. Just a day ago, we would be the worst of enemies.
"That'd explain it," Extinguisher said, nodding. "It doesn't matter. We can bust them out, especially if there are as many Crusaders on the fence as you say there are, cowboy. Hell, we even have Mr. Flynn back on our side." He shot a playful smile at Archer, who was leaning against the sewer wall next to where I had grabbed a piece of floor. As Ex turned back to Twister, I felt his gaze linger on me a moment. Yeah, we would have to talk. Soon.
"I hate to say it," Hexagon said, two arms folded, two arms gesturing with his speech, and the last two held fast around Medusa's shoulders, a gesture she seemed completely happy with, "but it sounds like we ain't gonna have much time to rest on our laurels, much as I'd like that."
"Don't tempt me, mi cccielo," Meds almost purred, putting a scaled hand on one of Hex's massive ones. "Ssstill, the ssstakes are even higher than ever. Asss much asss I'd love to, you're right, Henry." The smile on my face was undoubtedly stupidly big at this point, no matter the gravity of what we were about to discuss. Meds was my best friend. She deserved this moment of happiness.
"So, like, if now every single Crusader that isn't on our side is now hunting us, how are we going to get in touch with the dudes on our side to get them together and then join up to beat the bad good guys and then how do we do it and not wreck the entire city in the process because if we do that then the Army guys will blow us all up anyway when we save Alma and drop the dome?"
"Twister, Mind, and I have been figuring that out," Ex said, sitting on his haunches. "I want to run some of the specifics past Indy but I think we've got an idea that will work."
"Are you going to share with the rest of the class, fearless leader?" Quentin snarked. "I know Vee, Frost, and I are the junior bird squad around here, but considering we helped pull your collective pork roasts out of the fire -"
"Quentin, come on now, respect the chain of command," Vee interrupted. "They know what they're doing."
"I agree with Quentin," Frost said, picking shrapnel and damaged scales out of her skin, "for have we not yielded as much blood and sweat in battle as they? Besides, someone needs to ensure we maintain a certain sense of honor in all of this or we shall have given up the moral high ground."
"That, Dame Frost, I shall salute." Archer bowed an imaginary cap to the dragonwoman. "Pray thee, tell all of us what our plan of attack shall be. Certainly at this point we have all become equal partners in this battle for the soul of our own kind?"
"Yeah!" Polymer had finally found her voice, perhaps a little too loud as she instinctively expanded her lungs before the shout. "We're all in it together!"
Extinguisher gave me a put-upon glance and all I could do was shrug.
"I have to agree." I winced as I sat up. "Let's hear it, Ex. What's the plan?"
The firefighter shot an exasperated look at Mind's Eye, then Twister. Seeing the same look I gave him on their faces, he blew out a frosty sigh and nodded.
"Okay, here it is."
On the surface, the plan was sublime in its simplicity. Taking into account that any open fighting would have to be minimized for the safety of the citizens, it was intended as a surgical strike, cutting right to Epic to take the head off the beast. There was something wrong though, something I was still putting my finger on when Frost spoke up.
"While the thought of a gallant final battle with the great enemy lord is appealing despite the stealthy approach," she said as we picked through the meager supplies the few human occupants of this space had left behind, "I am unsure if it would accomplish our goals."
"If Epic is the person who's been influencing the Crusaders this whole time, why wouldn't it?" Extinguisher said. "Even if it doesn't, taking out their lynchpin while also having a significant force to back us up would ensure we could put a swift end to things."
"That's the whole reason I backed this play," Twister nodded. "I've got a pretty good notion that without Epic hanging over people's heads, they'd be a right bit closer to listening to reason and standing down."
"The problem is what if he isn't exactly in charge anymore?" I crumpled up the wrapper to the protein bar I had been stuffing in my face to quiet the roar of hunger when the realization had hit me.
"Of course he is," Polymer said with a slight hesitance. "Right?" The elastic teen looked at Twister and Archer for confirmation.
"Sure, it ain't like the Crusaders are a democracy, kid. More like Arthur and the Round Table."
"I would wish that I could confirm that for true but 't would be folly to do so." Archer shrugged. "The man I met, the one who judged me with leniency, may have been Epic but he was a lessened man. Certainly not the demigod that we all fell under the sway of."
"Look, Epic's power shifts with his confidence. I've seen it first-hand." I ran my hands through my messy faux-hawk. "Couple that with the fact that I didn't just beat him up, I humbled him so -"
"- he's probably weak and, if we wager his influence and charisma are tied in with his powers, then -" Ex continued, only to be interrupted himself by Medusa.
"- he'sss not running the crazy train anymore, which helpsss explain why, on top of the invasssion, there are ssssuddenly hundredsss of Crusssadersss willing to ssside with usss."
"If this is true," Mind's Eye said as she began to literally pace in mid-air, "how does it change things? Would not totally breaking his remaining influence allow the rest of the Crusaders to act as per their true beliefs?"
"How do we know they aren't already?" Quentin said, beating me to the same question. "It would explain a lot, like the disjointed response we saw today. We could be looking at more than one split in the ranks."
"It doesn't matter, Quentin," Voltage finally buzzed in. "We don't have the intel to know for sure. Without more, all we can do is plan for what we do know and go down the chain of command."
"To hell with 'chains of command', Vee, this isn't -"
"We can't just discount the information we -"
"Verily, which is why we simply can't -"
The growing clamor of the argument was silenced quickly enough as Hexagon rose up to his full height.
"SHUT IT, Y'ALL!" The massive six-armed man looked vaguely embarrassed as soon as he shouted, but it achieved its intended effect. "I'm real sorry, but this ain't helping out at all. We're all on the same side, right?" A collection of nods, some eager, some hesitant, answered him. "Right, I know I'm the guy who said we should hurry up and get things going again but I'm thinking I was wrong." He rubbed his head with two hands. "We're tired, hurtin', and that's just not the best way to plan or fight or anything."
"I've got to go with the big guy on this one," Quentin said, popping his back. "Some of us here are relatively mortal and all of that."
"I know there is something resembling living quarters here in this part of the sewers. Mackenzie laid down his head somewhere and he felt safe enough to treat my injuries pretty professionally on top of that." I pushed myself to my feet, my body complaining the whole way. Before anyone could move, I put up a hand to wave off any helpers.
"Right! I'll find 'em and then get everyone and we can see about getting patched up and some shut-eye and heck maybe they have more food because like when I went to camp once we tried MREs and those are actually pretty good!" Tank didn't bother to wait for approval as he rolled off. Apparently Polymer had the same thought and bounded after the treaded teen in ground-eating strides. Mind's Eye's serene expression broke as she rolled her blind eyes and floated off after them, like a mother hen after wayward chicks. Ex let out another frosty sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"You guys are right." He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. "I just want this to be over with. Get back to fighting bad guys and saving lives, not stumbling over the people who we really should be working with."
"Don't beat yourself up, Ex." I bit back another wince as I found a semi-comfortable standing position. "Nobody's perfect and I don't think you're the only one who wa
nts to be done with it."
The collective 'yes' of the ragtag group around us was proof enough of that.
Chapter 18 Quiet
It didn't take long at all for the two exuberant teenagers and their sedate chaperone to find the small cluster of rooms that comprised Ian Mackenzie's former living space. It was a cluster of four Spartan chambers, devoid of excessive comfort but filled, thankfully, with practical items. Four fold-up cots would give the worst-off of us some decent rest and the small stockpile of scratchy-but-warm Army surplus blankets could make do for the rest. Most of the medical supplies that had been there were long gone but there was enough odds and ends to patch wounds and replace old dressings with fresh. There was even enough tinned food and MREs left in a footlocker for Quentin to manage a decent, solid meal for everyone.
In my opinion, though, the two most critical finds were a working shower, tapped straight into the city's water lines, and a humble porcelain toilet. No matter how glamorous the average normal might consider the Push Hero lifestyle, it was dirty, smelly work. Just the prospect of conventional toiletries and a way to wash off all the grime was divine to me.
"Well, ten of us, two shifts of five would make the most sense, sir," Voltage reported to Extinguisher, even snapping him a brief salute. You can take the man out of the military but apparently you couldn't take the military out of this particular man. "Considering our position isn't one-hundred percent secure, caution would be advisable."
"Sounds smart to me." The firefighter glanced around as we finished up Quentin's expertly cobbled together food. "Any volunteers for the first watch? I'll take a slot for that."
"Count me in," I said. "I'm still a bit too wired to sleep right now anyway." To my dismay, there hadn't been any painkillers, at least any I would even consider to have enough kick, in the medical supplies. I suspected that Quentin had lifted them before I could find them but I had no proof.
