It was quick and ugly. Alice swung her batons without grace or precision because there was no room and no time for such things. One person was down, another two took their place. She kicked behind her while slamming her baton into the face of another. An elbow to the nose, a baton to the torso. On and on until they were surrounded by unconscious bodies.
It might have taken mere minutes, but it was enough to make Lionel lose whatever tenuous control he had over his temper.
With a roar of rage, Lionel picked up a nearby man and tossed him over the edge of the roof.
“No!” Alice grabbed his arm.
He shoved her so hard she went flying across to the other side of the roof. For a few minutes, it was hard to take a deep breath.
Marco channeled his power into Lionel, the shadows winding around Lionel’s huge body. He started to slump forward, the gleam of fury fading from his eyes. But then, one of the rabid men came to and rushed Marco, tackling him to the ground. The shadows faded and Lionel’s face tensed.
Alice forced herself to stand and run for him. “Stop, please.”
“You did this to me! You made me an animal!” Lionel pointed to Phantasm and jumped to the adjacent roof.
Marco wrestled the man to the ground, giving him several good punches until he slipped into unconsciousness again. Without a word, he grabbed Alice and fired the grappler in one motion. They swung to the highest level of the fire escape on the adjacent building and climbed up onto the roof where Lionel and Phantasm were.
As soon as her feet hit the roof, one of Phantasm’s men rushed for her. Alice ducked under his punch, swinging her baton into his knee cap. Even though she knew it was dislocated, the man didn’t scream or react in any way. He picked her up by the front of her costume and punched her. The pain was explosive, and Alice felt her mind go fuzzy for a moment.
Bringing her gauntlet up, she fired three bites into the man’s neck before he let her go. Grabbing the baton she’d dropped on the roof, she swung at his other knee and he collapsed to the ground.
The pain from her cheek was shooting into her eye and her already wounded shoulder was throbbing, but Alice forced herself to ignore it as another man rushed toward her. She dove down just as he was about to grab her and rolled to the right. Coming up on the balls of her feet, she ran and jumped onto the man’s chest, tackling him to the ground. Her batons slammed into the man’s face, one after the other. The man’s nose was broken, his eye bloodied, but still his hands sought her throat and face with more strength than she would’ve thought possible. She pressed a baton to his throat, cutting off his air until he stopped thrashing. Even then, she held it tight for a few more seconds just to be sure.
This must be the result of Hercules. There’s no way these guys are this strong otherwise.
A shadow crossed over her and she looked up in enough time to see Phantasm, gloved fist careening toward her. Alice dodged, but the blow still hit her on the side, knocking the air out of her.
“I thought you’d enjoy this display of justice,” Phantasm said, landing a swift kick to Alice’s stomach.
Alice scrambled to her feet, trying to get her breath. She feinted a punch to Phantasm’s torso and tried to swipe her legs out from under her. Phantasm stumbled, but didn’t fall.
“How is this justice?” Alice gasped. “There are children down there!”
“Who will grow up to be just like their fathers and mothers! Rich or poor.”
Phantasm attempted a roundhouse kick, but Alice caught her leg and pulled, throwing Phantasm off balance and sending her to the ground. Alice tried to pin her, but Phantasm twisted and brought her leg around for a kick to Alice’s face. She landed on her side, and rolled just as Phantasm stamped her thick-soled boot down onto the roof.
Alice kicked up from the ground and landed on her feet, then swung her baton around. Phantasm blocked it. Alice kicked her in the chest, sending her off balance and landed another kick to Phantasm’s side and she fell to the ground.
Screams echoed up from below, the sounds of terror and rage.
The images of children shot for trying to escape this horror, the families Alice had seen broken over the course of the last week, and all the other crimes Phantasm had committed ran through her mind as Phantasm stood.
Alice rushed for her, fury burning through every limb. Her baton landed two solid blows to Phantasm’s mid-section, and then another to her knee. Phantasm screamed in pain, smashing her armored fist down onto Alice’s face, which stunned her long enough for Phantasm to trap Alice’s arm with the wounded shoulder. Phantasm pulled up.
Alice screamed as her elbow joint popped.
“You’ll see,” Phantasm said, not letting Alice go. “History will vindicate me.”
Alice delivered a sloppy kick to Phantasm’s wounded knee. It was enough to make her grip loosen. Alice fell onto her back, rolled to her side, and scrambled to her feet.
Alice’s arm hung painful and useless to her side, and dread began to settle in her stomach as a pungent, sharp smell hit her. The air was tinged, but not with the light gray of gas.
Something was burning.
“Well,” Phantasm said, standing up. “These people really don’t disappoint.”
“Get away from her!” Lionel said, coming up on Alice’s left.
He was limping, dirty, and more bloodied than Alice had ever seen him.
“Steel, what a pleasure to witness you unleashed.”
“What did you do to me?” he growled.
“If you really want to know, come find me sometime and we’ll talk.”
He bent a little as if he were ready to pounce.
Then the building shook from an explosion nearby, knocking Alice to her knees. When she looked up, she could see Phantasm through the smoke, trying to run to the edge of the roof and escape.
Lionel started to dash after her.
Alice screamed, “No!” Another explosion, smaller, rocked the building. Lionel stumbled and Alice grabbed his leg. When he looked back at her, his eyes were tormented behind his cowl.
“We have to get out of here,” she said.
The smoke was starting to make Alice’s eyes burn, and though the gas mask was doing a good job of filtering the smoke, Alice wasn’t sure how much longer it would last.
A hand clamped down on her injured arm and she cried out. As she brought her baton around to knock it away, Marco blocked her.
Relief flooded her so strongly that she wanted to cry.
“The fire’s spreading,” he said, limping a few steps toward Lionel. “We have to get off the roof.”
Figures started appearing out of the smoke, slow-moving like predators seeking prey. They spread out on three sides, blocking the fire escape she and Marco had climbed up on.
Lionel stood up in front of Marco and Alice.
“Get her out of here, I’ll keep them busy.”
“No, all or none of us,” she said.
Lionel swore under his breath.
“That side.” He pointed to the side with the fewest people. “There’s a fire escape. I’ll clear a path.”
The group of men and women closed in fast, a flurry of fists and screaming faces assaulted her. She was throwing punches and kicking so fast she didn’t register the fact that there was open space in front of her until large hands threw her forward, out of the violent mob.
“Go!” Lionel screamed, tossing two people off him.
She hesitated, unwilling to leave Marco and Lionel. But then she saw Marco begin to back up toward her as he manipulated his shadows, trying to keep a good number of the attackers at bay.
“Go, now!” Lionel shouted, fighting off three at once.
Alice turned and ran to the end of the roof where the fire escape was. She was half over the side of the roof and onto the fire escape when another explosion shook the building, this one harder than the last. She couldn’t hold onto anything with the arm Phantasm had wounded, and her grip wasn’t firm with her other hand when the explosion
hit. She fell hard onto the fire escape and tumbled down the stairs to the next level.
“Alice!” Marco yelled, looking over the edge.
“I’m-”
Another explosion, and this time Alice knew that it had to be coming from inside the building. The fire escape shook so hard that she was thrown back and off the space she’d landed on. She was barely able to grab a rail with her good hand before she realized that the explosion had caused the fire escape to begin coming away from the building.
“Marco!” she yelled, barely able to see him through the building smoke.
“I see it! Lionel, we need you!”
Alice tried to pull herself up and swing her legs back over the fire escape, but she misjudged and almost lost her grip in the attempt. She looked down, and through the growing smoke she could make out a dirty side alley with a few bodies and mounds of garbage strewn around. There were a few half full open trash bins and she thought that if she had to, aiming to land in one of them might be her only hope.
Lionel appeared above her and grabbed onto the bars that had once been bolted to the building. He pulled, his face going red under his cowl.
“I can’t hold it, hurry!”
Marco had unspooled the cable of his grappling gun and tossed the grappler end down.
“Grab it, hook it to your belt and I’ll pull you up.”
She had to use her injured arm to reach up to him, and the effort to move it was excruciating. Gritting her teeth, she yelled and tried to reach up. But each time she reached for it, her hand only succeeded in batting it away.
“My-My arm…I don’t think-”
“You can do this, you have to!” Marco said.
“Hurry!” Lionel said through gritted teeth.
“I can…do this!” she said to herself.
She felt her fingers close around the grappler for just a moment before the next explosion rocked the building.
Alice watched in a strange kind of detached horror as the bars slipped from one of Lionel’s hands.
She tried to hold onto the grappler, but the sudden drop from the fire escape made her lose her grip on both the grappler and the rail.
For a moment, Alice felt suspended in mid-air, able to fully take in the look of horror and panic on Marco and Lionel’s faces as she plummeted to the alley below.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Through the fog of something Alice couldn’t quite grasp, she heard voices, angry and crying.
Trying to talk made her feel as if someone were pressing a pillow to her face so she couldn’t breathe. No matter how hard she tried, there was no air. Her body thrashed, and it felt like shards of glass were being shoved through her torso, but she couldn’t control it.
When the thrashing finally stopped, she could breathe again, but then a thick darkness began to carry her away, far from those voices, to a place of peaceful silence.
A bright light pressed against her eyes and she fought against its intrusion, but to no avail. The darkness receded and in its place was a confusing heaviness in her limbs. Alice moved her head, which felt twice it’s normal size and tried to speak.
Her voice was weak and she wasn’t even sure if she’d said a real word or not.
“Who? Honey, did you say something?” asked a woman nearby.
“Marco,” she said again, her mouth remembering how to form words.
“Lemme finish this and I’ll see if I can find him.”
When Alice opened her eyes to try and see the person in the room, everything was fuzzy and huge. Blinking didn’t help, and in fact, the effort to focus made her head feel as if someone were driving railroad spikes into it.
The best thing seemed to be to just keep them closed.
She must have fallen asleep, because the next time Alice opened her eyes, the room wasn’t nearly as bright and the woman was gone.
This time, Alice let her eyes adjust gradually. And though the focus would still go in and out, she could make out the hospital room. Moving her head very slowly to the side, her eyes fell on a man sleeping in a chair.
“Uncle...” she croaked.
He jumped, and then a moment later, winced from the effort.
“You awake?”
She tried to nod, but it hurt too bad.
“I’m gonna get Gerald, just stay there.”
Where would I go?
As her eyes kept adjusting, things started to come into sharper focus.
She was facing a window, the open curtains showed the twinkling lights of the bay and the renovated water front. Ships coming in for the night bobbed on the dark water.
It was a small, private room, with a doorway to her right that might’ve been a bathroom, and another to her left through which Uncle Logan had left.
The wall between the window and the bathroom door had a table with three bouquets. One was a cheerful arrangement of Gerber Daisy’s, which could only be from Rose.
A second was a beautiful arrangement of purple roses.
And the third...
Alice felt her throat begin to close as her heart beat pounded in her ears.
“Jasmine...I smell...she’s here...no — no —”
The monitors began to beep and Gerald bolted through the door.
“Alice?” he said, calloused hand on her forehead.
Cold coursed through her and she felt her body relax.
“She’s here,” Alice whispered, tears running down her face.
“Who?” he asked, brown eyes hooded beneath his frown.
“Jasmine...I smell jasmine.”
He sighed. “Mrs. Veran sent flowers from her garden. I thought if we rejected them...do you want me to get rid of them?”
Against her will, Alice’s gaze slid to the beautiful arrangement of lilies and jasmine.
Anger, bright and hot, blossomed in her chest, spreading through her limbs until she felt choked with it. Alice clenched her jaw, her eyes burning with hatred.
“I’ll just-”
“No!” she said. “Leave them.”
He nodded and began taking her pulse. That’s when Alice noticed for the first time how heavy her legs felt.
“My legs...”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “You still have use of them, but you broke them both pretty good. Shattered a femur and nearly destroyed one of your knees. I did what I could, but they’re both in a cast.”
“What...else?”
Gerald’s dark eyes hardened.
“You broke three ribs and punctured your lung when you went into shock. You had a head injury that could’ve made you comatose. Also, a dislocated right elbow, broken left wrist—”
“Okay, maybe not...all...at once.”
He nodded. “These injuries are extensive. I have done what I could to stabilize you, and I will help you in recovery, but Alice—”
“Not now. Please?”
“No, not now.”
“Marco?”
Gerald nodded. “He’s patched up. I’ve kept you sedated for the past three days to help with the healing.”
“Three days? What...what happened to Park Side?”
He stared at his feet.
“Apparently, some idiot had stashed enough ammunition in the basement of two of those apartment buildings to supply an army. It...it leveled the buildings. They’re still finding bodies.”
“Oh, God...Detective Garrick? The Police?”
Gerald shook his head.
“How?”
“We don’t know yet, there’s hundreds of fatalities, and more wounded. Mrs. Frost pulled strings to get you a private room, in case you said anything while under about who you really are. It’s so bad that they’re actually letting me treat patients, although only the Negro ones. The press is calling it The Park Side Massacre. And Alice? They’re holding the three of you partly responsible.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t say I blame them. We didn’t stop it. I think we may have made it worse somehow.”
“I don’t agree. You tried, which
is more than most would have done in your place. But, with the police force having lost a quarter—”
“Oh, my god!”
“And that number could go up, with the severity of some of the wounded, plus, some are still missing. The Captain had called in every available officer to try and contain the situation, but even after the explosions, there were still enough rabidly afraid people to cause problems.”
He shook his head, brown eyes bright with sadness.
“The Mayor and Police Commissioner need scapegoats,” he continued. “And since they don’t know for certain if Phantasm even exists — well, right or wrong, you three are the natural targets.”
Alice sighed, then winced as the action made her ribs hurt.
“And now Victoria has the leverage to create her special police force. What a mess. How are Marco and Lionel handling it?”
Gerald looked away.
Alice felt her stomach twist.
“What aren’t you telling me? Are they...did something happen?”
He reached into his pocket and took out an envelope.
“They’re fine, or...as best as can be. Marco left this for you.”
Alice’s brain couldn’t quite grab a hold of his words.
“Left?”
Gerald pressed the letter into her palm.
“Read it. And when you’re done, your uncle wants to see you. Press the button and he’ll come in.”
Perhaps it was because of the low light in the room, or the sickening smell of jasmine, but Alice began to believe she wasn’t really awake. Any moment now she’d wake up in her bed at the loft. She’d smell Marco’s pancakes, hear Lionel complain about how there’s never enough whiskey in the place.
But, the longer she waited, the more Alice had to accept that it was all real.
The paper in her hand rustled like fragile leaves as she clutched it, but she refused to read it. As long as it remained just an envelope, Marco could walk in. He would come, he couldn’t leave without knowing she was alright. He wouldn’t do that.
She stared out the window, waiting for him. When the door clicked open, her heart gave a lurch, a relieved sob bursting from her chapped lips.
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