Then, the head vanished.
Looking back, Sundancer was gone as well.
Nobody raced over to the Thrill, who had risen to her hands and knees.
“You all right?” he said. “Are you hurt? Burned?”
She shook her head. “Amelia makes good armor.”
He helped her to her feet.
“No rest for the weary,” she said. She rose into the air, two dozen yards over the platform.
“Listen up!” she said. “Yo! Look at me!”
In unison, the hundreds of people within the sound of her voice stopped their panicked flight and looked to her. “We’ve got a lot of wounded people here. I don’t know how long it will be until help arrives. I want everyone who knows anything about first aid to stay and help those too hurt to walk out under their own power. Everyone else, I want you to leave, slowly! Stay calm, don’t step on anyone, and get to safety. Let’s move it, people.”
A pleased murmur came from the crowd, a chorus of “Great idea,” and, “She’s so clever!”
“Ground zero’s locked down,” the Thrill said, dropping down to grab Nobody. “Let’s see if Amelia needs a hand.”
It quickly became evident that things were even more chaotic outside the plaza. Everyone in the streets appeared to be armed, and firefights were blazing from every window and doorway. A millennia’s worth of frustrations and anger had apparently boiled over, and the ancient buildings of the Old City were slowly being chipped to gravel by the relentless spray of bullets.
“Stop shooting,” the Thrill said, flying low and slow over the streets. “Go home! Be nice!”
She left a small wake of peace and quiet, but the sound of gunfire was still omnipresent.
“It’s hopeless,” she said. “We’re never going to put a lid on this.”
“Don’t say that,” said Nobody. “I signed on as one of the good guys. We don’t give up.”
Ahead of them, a tank flew into the air and disassembled itself, sending its astonished crew screaming toward the ground.
The Thrill darted forward, placing a free hand on one of the falling men, and lowered him to the ground. He stood, staring at her, his eyes wide.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
Then he pulled a pistol and thrust it into her stomach.
He pulled the trigger. His hand dissolved into red mist as the gun disintegrated. The bullet flashed backwards with a loud crack, punching a jagged hole through the man’s chest. With a gurgle, he toppled.
“Don’t show them mercy,” said Rail Blade, sliding up behind them on her gleaming steel beam. “Everyone signed on for this intending to kill or be killed. I say we don’t disappoint them.”
“How many more tanks?” the Thrill asked.
“None. I’ve taken apart over fifty of them. All the helicopters are down. I’ve detonated all the missiles.”
“Then all that’s left are the small weapons,” said Nobody. “It’s down to people shooting people now.”
Rail Blade’s track crumbled to rust, dropping her to the dusty street. “You have no idea how tired I am,” she said.
Nobody knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done good work. You’ve saved a lot of lives. Maybe we should go. The peacekeepers can get all this under control. Eventually.”
“No,” said Rail Blade. She sucked in a deep, long breath. “No. I’m the only one who can stop it. I just need to catch my breath. Just need to think.”
“What—” Nobody cut his question short as Rail Blade closed her eyes. Her body trembled, as if about to explode.
Suddenly, the cacophony of nearby gunfire dimmed.
“I can feel them,” Rail Blade whispered, opening her eyes. “All around me. The guns. I can feel the atoms, agitated and hot. They’re singing to me. Can’t you hear the singing?”
“Um,” said Nobody.
“And I can silence them.”
She breathed deeply once more.
“Triggers snap,” she whispered.
The gunfire lessened further.
“Barrels snake into knots,” she said, sweat beading on her brow. The gunfire grew even dimmer. Angry and confused shouts could be heard.
“Bullet jackets rust,” she said. And all the gunfire stopped. But the shouting continued.
“They… they pull their knives,” she moaned. “So many knives.”
Nobody placed his arms around her as she tried to sit up. She slumped against him, her eyes focused somewhere he would never be able to see.
“And the knives crumble to dust,” she whispered.
Suddenly, even the shouting began to calm. Nobody could see men stepping from their hiding places, looking down at their empty hands, their faces confused.
Rail Blade went limp, her face falling against his shoulder. “It’s over,” she said, quietly. “That’s all I have. It’s over.”
He stroked her hair. “You did fine,” he whispered. “You stopped it. You just stopped the Apocalypse.”
“Wow, Sis,” said the Thrill. “You kicked butt.”
One by one, the confused men in the streets looked at one another, bewildered. Then, with growls, they lunged at each other, fists flying. They lifted paving stones and hurled them with angry curses.
“No,” whispered Rail Blade. “No.”
“Don’t sweat it,” said Nobody. “They can only do so much damage. You’ve stopped the killing.”
“I haven’t stopped the hate,” said Rail Blade, pushing him away. She rose on wobbling legs. “I’m too tired now. I could slap everyone in handcuffs, I guess, but I’m beaten. I don’t care anymore. Let them kill themselves. I’ve done all I can.”
Nobody nodded.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” said the Thrill. “What you did was amazing. You did good.”
Rail Blade’s shoulders drooped. “I’m so tired.”
Nobody looked at the fighting in the streets. In a way, it was comical—the flabby, middle-aged men kicking and cursing, slapping each other like children on a playground.
From the crowd of men, an actual child appeared. He looked to be about ten years old. His features were dark, his eyes red, as if he had been crying. He wore torn, tattered, dirty clothing, and he walked slowly toward them, his eyes focused on the two colorfully garbed women.
Nobody started to point the boy out to Rail Blade, to let her see that her work had possibly saved this boy’s life. Perhaps that would make her feel better. But something about the boy’s eyes made him think differently. They were too hard, too full of hate. The madness that had infected the adults also seemed to be gripping him, though he was too small and powerless for his anger to find any outlet.
He kept walking, until he was only a few yards away. He reached into his coat and pulled out a hand grenade.
Nobody’s mouth dropped open as the boy pulled the pin.
Chapter Fifteen
A White Flash
The pin fell to the dusty ground. The boy ran forward, passing through Nobody. Nobody swung around, screaming, “Rail Blade!”
Rail Blade turned her head.
A white flash cast the boy’s shadow in a long arrow back to Nobody.
A red spray painted the white cloth of the Thrill’s costume.
The boy slumped to the ground.
In the air where the boy had stood, a black cloud of grenade fragments hung motionless, spread out like a dense swarm of flies.
Rail Blade’s lips were pressed tight, her face white, her eyes narrow, as the swarm condensed and coalesced back into a grenade. The grenade dropped to the ground, landing in the red pool that grew around the boy.
“Get away,” said Rail Blade.
“My God,” said Nobody. “He couldn’t have been ten years old.”
“Get away,” said Rail Blade, through clenched teeth. She dug her fingers into the dust. The air began to smell of ozone. Lightning crackled overhead. Nobody’s watch began to spark. He fumbled to unclasp it, then threw it to the ground. But it didn�
�t hit the ground. It hung motionless in the air, glowing with static.
“Amelia,” said the Thrill. “Calm down.”
Rail Blade grabbed the Thrill by the shoulders and stared into her eyes.
“Leave this place!” she shouted. “Get far from this place as fast as you can. Don’t. Look. Back.”
Nobody put his hand on Rail Blade’s shoulder. “Amelia,” he said.
His hand went numb. He pulled it away. Thin lines of blood bubbled across his palm and fingers. Rail Blade’s uniform shredded as razor sharp spikes grew from her back and shoulders.
“Go,” said Rail Blade, releasing the Thrill with a backward shove.
The men who had been fighting nearby began to shriek in agony. Nobody looked at them. One by one, they were rising from the Earth, levitating like his wristwatch. The looks of agony that twisted their faces were nightmarish.
“Amelia,” said the Thrill. “Stop this now!”
“What’s she doing?” said Nobody. “What’s going on?”
“She’s lifting them by their blood,” said the Thrill. “It can kill people, cause strokes, rupture arteries. Stop it Amelia!”
The screaming men were lifted higher now, moving faster, being carried away from Rail Blade. Rail Blade’s sweat had turned to liquid steel, running down her face like beads of mercury.
“Amelia, please,” said Nobody, kneeling before her.
Then he couldn’t breathe. His heart was stopped mid-beat as he was lifted into the air. The pain was indescribable, like being lifted on the points of a billion sharp needles resting against his heart, his lungs, his liver. The pain stopped suddenly as Sarah placed her hands on him.
“I’m touching Earth’s core,” said Rail Blade, her voice calm and cold. “My power is limitless. Leave… this… place.”
“We’re going,” said the Thrill.
They rose into the air, giving Nobody a better view. All over the city countless thousands of people were flying, in a vast dark circle, as Rail Blade evicted every last citizen of Jerusalem.
“Father,” the Thrill said into her radio. “Amelia’s losing it. Talk to her.”
Dr. Know didn’t answer.
Nobody looked down. Rail Blade had risen now. She stood in the eye of an expanding circle of spinning blades, a cloud of dust fleeing their approach. Lightning spiked from the ground around her, passing through her, and the blades whirled faster. The blades reached the wall of the nearest building, and rasped it to gravel in seconds. Rail Blade tilted her face upward, spreading her arms. Her face was angelic and peaceful. The storm of blades continued to build. Within a dozen yards of her, the ground was now flat and featureless, carved smooth by flashing steel.
The Thrill pulled them higher into the air, still vainly shouting for her father to answer.
“She’s losing it! She’s losing control!” said the Thrill.
Nobody didn’t think so. Below him, the blades whirled in perfect symmetry, multiplying and pushing outward like bright shards of a kaleidoscope. There was nothing out of control about it. It was perfect grace, perfect geometry, as wheels of razors rolled within wheels, grinding outward, leaving polished land for a hundred yards in all directions. Where ancient walls once stood, there was now a gleaming white floor of packed dust. Mountains vanished before the dance of the blades.
“Take us back down,” said Nobody.
“No,” said the Thrill.
“We have to talk to her. We have to—”
“She’ll kill us. She’s snapped. Only Father can stop her now. Why won’t he answer?”
Nobody knew. Nobody knew why Dr. Know wasn’t going to answer. Rail Blade was fulfilling his wish. She was solving the problem. She was wiping Jerusalem from the face of the Earth.
He could still see her, though they had now risen half a mile. Rail Blade was a tiny shape, a dark dot in the center of a circle of white. Nobody realized what he was witnessing. Baby Gun had been seen as an angel of prophecy, the spirit of war given shape and substance, a harbinger of the coming Apocalypse.
Rail Blade was the fulfillment of prophecy.
Rail Blade was the Angel of Death.
And she danced, with the pool of the boy’s blood as her pinhead. Her body flowed in fluid arcs, forming the letters of a new language, spelling out her message with every graceful motion of her arms and legs.
Jerusalem vanished from the face of the Earth as Nobody watched in awe. All of the impossible, horrible, wonderful things he’d witnessed in recent months paled before what he was now seeing. This was like watching the fall of a comet, like witnessing a volcano’s eruption. He’d never seen such power. He’d never seen anything so chilling, so perfectly terrible, and so perfectly beautiful.
They rode a jet back to the island. They watched what television channels they could tune into in silence. This wasn’t something that could be covered up, like the Texas prisoner incident. Every channel they could find kept showing satellite photos of the area. Jerusalem was gone. In its place was a ten-mile circle, polished and gleaming like a mirror.
Most of the residents had been safely deposited beyond the range of the destruction. But when the news anchors spoke of casualties, the numbers they used were grim ones. Hundreds of people had died of heart failure. Hundreds of thousands homeless. The religious shrines of three major religions had vanished. Nobody had been to the homes of the people who lived in the city. He’d seen the children’s rooms painted with flowers and smiling clowns. All of those rooms were gone now. All of the restaurants he’d enjoyed, gone. He knew what it felt like to have your world stripped away. He felt he should weep for all that was lost. But he didn’t have any tears left.
World leaders issued condolences and called for calm. The Pope openly wept as he offered a prayer for the lost souls. Rail Blade was mentioned only in passing, for her role in stopping the tanks. At least in these early reports, no one was pointing fingers at Amelia.
“Dad could have stopped this,” said Sarah, quietly.
“No one could have stopped her,” said Nobody. “Your sister was like some force of nature. Stopping her would have been like stopping a hurricane.”
“My father has worked out the science to stop hurricanes,” said Sarah. “He keeps it secret because he fears environmental damage if nations start shutting down every storm that heads their way.”
“You’re joking,” said Nobody.
“I’m in no mood to joke right now. My sister has just killed uncounted innocent people. My father allowed it. It’s possible he put the idea into her head.”
“Christ,” said Nobody. “Your sister has always seemed so cold. I knew she could kill without blinking an eye. But this…”
“There’s something you’ve never been told about her,” said Sarah. “It’s a family secret. It’s something that drove her crazy.”
“Yes?”
“We used to have a brother.”
“That is a well-kept secret. There are no photographs or anything around the mansion.”
“He was the middle child, a year younger than Amelia, a year older than I. His name was Alexander. He also had strange powers. He could breathe water. He would spend hours in the ocean. He loved to swim like I love to fly.”
“Did something happen to him?”
Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Amelia killed him.”
“Oh,” said Nobody.
“She was thirteen. Her powers were starting to grow strong. She’d been able to move steel with her mind from birth, but it wasn’t until puberty that she was able to create it from thin air, and make it flow like water. Alex was jealous of her, I think. Dad had always devoted a tremendous amount of attention to him, but as Amelia’s powers started to develop, Dad focused on her. Alex began to torment Amelia, teasing her and stuff. Normal sibling rivalry, I guess, but he really seemed to want to make her look bad in front of Dad. And one day, he just pushed the wrong button. She lashed out, forming a blade with her mind, and cut him very badly. She wasn’t try
ing to kill him, just scare him by shooting a blade near him, but he moved. He died in her arms.”
“Holy cow,” said Nobody. “No wonder she’s crazy. That’s quite a burden of guilt for a thirteen year old.”
“You would think so, yeah. But then Dad used that incident to twist Amelia into his own personal weapon. Amelia didn’t want to use her powers ever again after she killed Alex. Dad insisted that she learn martial arts for discipline, that she hone her powers to insure that the next time she aimed a blade at someone, she would have complete control. Since Alex’s memory seemed to make Amelia afraid of her powers, he was erased from our family history. Father destroyed photos of him. The walls of his bedroom were knocked down and the library was expanded into the space. Alex has a gravestone in the rose garden, but it’s featureless. His name was never carved into it.”
“That’s awful,” said Nobody.
“It hurt Mother worst of all. She’s like a shadow of the woman I remember from my childhood. I haven’t seen her smile in over ten years.”
“How about you? How did his death make you feel? Weren’t you afraid of Amelia?”
“No. Not really. We fight, but not the way she and Alex did. Our relationship is strange. In some ways, she’s the person I’m closest to in the whole world. In other ways, she’s a complete stranger.”
“She’s very protective of you,” said Nobody.
“I think that’s likely to change very soon,” said Sarah.
“Why?”
“She’s completely loyal to father. And once she hears what I have to say to him, she’s going to hate me forever.”
Dr. Know looked pale and weary. The lights in the nerve center were off, save for the illumination from the wall of televisions. The volume was barely audible, forming a background murmur from which words like “destruction” and “death” and “Apocalypse” bubbled forth.
If he’d heard Sarah’s words, he did not acknowledge them.
Nobody positioned himself between Dr. Know and the televisions.
“Well?” asked Nobody.
Dr. Know looked at Nobody, then glanced at Sarah. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He lowered his head, shaking it.
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