Desperate Times

by Tom Andry

The daughter I’d never had. Never held. Never got a chance to know. She'd be much older than this now, but I'd never really been able to look at any little girl without a sinking feeling. This one was no different...and yet so much more poignant. She stood, rooted in the same spot. Her white eyes seemingly unseeing. A drop of Tay's punch still on her cheek. A knot started to form in my stomach. This was wrong. Little girls should be nurtured, loved. Not used.

  Slowly, Nineteen's head rotated toward me, dislodging the drop of punch and sending it falling from her cheek and splashing on the collar of her dingy, white dress like a tear of blood. She looked like someone had dressed her for church a year ago. The dress must once have been beautiful, but it had started to yellow from age and use. How many little girls had worn that dress? How many had died in it? I wanted to reach out to her. To hold her. To tell her it was going to be okay...

  "Whoa, dawg! You don't want to do that." Tay jumped in front of me.

  "What?" I put a hand to my temple, my eyes closing of their own accord. Why did I do that? My head didn't hurt.

  "Don't look at her too long," he tapped his temple meaningfully, "she gets in here. I can take it, see, I gots the juice," his eyes continued to quiver involuntarily. "But you don't want her up in there, yo. Messes people up."

  "What are you talking about?"

  A huge smile spread slowly across Tay's face. He stood absolutely still. "The girl, yo."

  "What girl?" Something played at the corner of my mind. I felt disoriented, lost. I needed to get the upper hand of this conversation. This madman was all over the place. If I could find out what he knew about the people that ran from the TOP office, maybe I could get out of here.

  "Nineteen," Nissa was looking at me openly confused.

  "Shh...don't tell him," Tay reprimanded, laughter in his voice.

  I ignored her, "Listen, Tay. Nissa answered your question and now it's time for you to answer ours."

  "What question?" Tay's smile was so wide it threatened to split his face. "What question did the party favor answer?"

  "Uhh..." I shook my head, blinking. I couldn't remember. Damn, they must have laced my drink. I couldn't let him know I couldn't remember, "No more games. You made a deal. Now tell me what you know about..."

  Tay stepped to the side. Behind him, a small girl in a dirty, white dress with golden curls and...

  I put a hand up to the side of my head. It all came back to me in a rush of images. The girl. The question. Nineteen. Clones. Pain. Telepathy. It was as if I never forgot any of it. In front of me, Tay was dancing around like a super that had just reached Level 5 citizenship.

  "Yo, yo, dawg," he laughed. "You should see your face. Dawg, that's entertainment GOLD right there."

  "What...happened..."

  He stepped toward the girl. Instinctively, I moved to stop him then pulled myself short. I didn't want to go through another demonstration of her power.

  "Part of the deal, dawg. She knows that if people knew about her, they'd lock her up," he started speaking more to her than to us, "experiment on her. She don't want that, do she?" He knelt down next to her, whispering in her ear, "Do you? No, you want to stay with Uncle Tay, yo? Tay takes care of Nineteen, don't he?"

  I swallowed hard. The girl turned slowly toward Tay. His face went slack as she locked her gaze with his. Her slender hand reached up and touched his temple. "That's right," he whispered. Faintly, I could make out the outline of a pupil form in the girl's eyes. Tay's hand started to tremble and his eyelids fluttered like hummingbird wings. After a moment, he broke away, gasping. A thin sheen of perspiration covered his face and chest.

  I had to pull Tay back on track. "You said you'd tell me about her because it was me. But that was a lie. You tell everyone. Because they'll never remember anyhow."

  Tay, apparently remembering I was in the room, clapped, standing unsteadily, "Yo, they said you was quick." He rubbed his eyes, "Plus, you don't forget shit, do you? Well," he glanced back at Nineteen who had turned back to Nissa and me, her eyes fully white again, making me wonder if I had imagined the pupil outline, "you had a question. I've already answered one. You gots one left."

  By my count we either still had two or we had gone well over. Either way, I wasn't going to argue with the young club owner slash underworld boss. "You've heard of TOP?"

  "Yeah. Heard they got themselves blowed up good."

  I nodded, trying not to look too eager, "You know what happened?"

  He shrugged, "Yeah. Heard it was a few punks looking for money or dope or something. Heard it from a guy that heard about it from a guy called Spoon."

  "Mel?" I said through gritted teeth. Mel Lepel, otherwise known as Spoon, been one of the first people I'd called. He was a minor super who was a player in the local gangs; he knew everyone. I'd employed him on more than one occasion, and used him to find others on many others. This was a guy who I would have said I trusted a few moments ago. I'd had beers with him. I'd had him up to my place - and not just in the office, but also back to my living space. How could he let this happen to Liz? If I remembered correctly, his mom had received help from TOP. Even if I was wrong, surely someone he knew and loved had. In that community, Liz was like a mother, a saint, and Robin Hood all rolled up into one.

  He nodded wearily, "Yeah, that's the dude. Now, where is my drink?"

  Below us, the floor rumbled and shook slightly. As one, we turned toward the door. Dust was billowing up from under it. From the other side, I heard muffled yells and screams. Then the lights went out.

  "What the fuck, dawg?"

  # # #

  Chapter 14

  Two things happened simultaneously: the emergency lights came on and the large guard that Tay had sent for a refill crashed through the door from the main room. As large as a small car, he ripped through the door like it was made of tissue paper and came to a skidding halt at our feet, tearing down fabric and bowling over dancers as he slid. In his right hand was Tay's cup, extended above him, most of the crimson liquid still inside. With his other giant hand, he wiped away the fabric, his face as emotionless as always. Next to the door, the two sentries with poleaxes stood, seemingly oblivious to the carnage.

  Tay took the cup, sipped, and leaned over him, face to upside down face, "Fuck'em up, dawg." The large man stood slowly, dusted himself off, and plodded back toward the door. Tay turned back to me, "You're gonna want to see this, yo. This guy don't know what he just done."

  Tay scooped up the little girl and danced gaily behind the large guard. I flipped on my Inertial Dampener, painfully aware that Nissa had no such protection. I knew that we should find a way out. That whatever was on the other side of that door was bigger than anything Nissa and I should be involved with, but there was nowhere else to go. The sentries were still standing next to all the other doors in the room. Though I was sure the sentries were illusions, that didn't mean they - and their weapons - weren't solid and deadly.

  Tay stopped at the doorway as his huge guard continued through. Nissa and I approached slowly, cautiously, much more concerned about the looming danger than Tay was. Would Nineteen protect Tay from a stray shot? From falling debris? He seemed to think so as he set the girl down at his side and started thrusting his hips and gyrating to a music only he could hear.

  Or was it?

  As we walked slowly forward, I noticed that Tay's movements weren't as random as I initially thought. With every crash, scream or explosion, he reacted. Physically. He was, I realized, dancing to the sounds of suffering and carnage. If there was a way of dreading what I was going to see through that doorway any more, I couldn't imagine it.

  Tay looked back at us, manic glee on his face, "Moorster! You're missing it. This is righteous, dawg. I knew it! I fucking KNEW it!"

  As I approached the doorway, I first noticed the face of a young woman, eyes open and staring up, lying in a pool of red. I took a step and saw that her head wasn't attached to anything. I swallowed hard. If only there was another way out of this room. I turn
ed back. The sentries hadn't moved. They stared dispassionately forward, oblivious.

  I turned to Tay, "Is there a back door? Some other way out?"

  He ignored me and jumped up at another large bang, pumping his fists as if he were doing the fighting, giggling. Nissa stepped forward and immediately blanched. She put a shaking hand to her mouth, eyes wide. I swallowed again and took a step. I saw a figure, the lizardman from earlier, floating off the floor. It was only when I noticed his legs kicking wildly that I realized that it was against his will. As I continued forward, I saw the black-gloved hand attached to his neck that was holding him aloft. The hand was connected to an arm, a shoulder, all clad in black.

  "Unclean."

  I shivered. It was him. The Raven. I didn't need to see the rest to know. Without the filter of the TV speakers, his voice was chilling. It wasn't deep or high. It held no malice and that made it all the more terrifying. He was reading a shopping list. Eggs. Bacon. Unclean thing I must kill. His voice was old. Ancient. If the wind or mountains had a voice, this is what it would have sounded like. It was absolute. You didn't argue with it. If he said, "Stop breathing," you'd be surprised if your body didn't involuntarily comply.

  I cleared the doorway just in time to see the large guard close in on The Raven. On the TV, it looked like his costume was just black, but it wasn't. It was splotchy, dirty. It may have had color at some time, but you couldn't tell any more. Where he had grabbed the flailing lizardman under his chin were sooty marks. There was a hole in the ceiling above The Raven - his obvious port of entry. Rubble surrounded the black-clad figure, topped only by bodies of his most recent victims. Or more accurately, pieces of his most recent victims. The Raven squeezed and I heard a sickening crunch and the super's legs stopped kicking. Next to me, Nissa gasped again. He tossed the lizardman to the side, directly into the mirror-covered central column. The glass shattered, revealing a mesh wire structure underneath. He turned to the advancing guard, squaring his shoulders.

  The guard's pace never wavered. The moment he was within striking distance, The Raven's head snapped back with a deafening crack, a wisp of smoke snaking up from his cheek. The guard skidded to a stop and again there was a sound like a midsized car ramming a wall at thirty miles per hour. The Raven bent over slightly, more smoke from his stomach. I hadn't seen the guard move at all.

  "Booya! That's what I'm talking about!" Tay was hopping up and down, unable to contain his excitement. Next to him, Nineteen's milky white eyes took in the fight without a glimmer of reaction.

  How could Tay surround himself with people who showed so little emotion? The guard was as much a robot as he was human. The girl, she was young, sure, but so still, so cold. She didn't seem to recognize the danger around her. Was it a lack of fear or a lack of understanding? He used her to protect himself when she was the one who should have warranted protection.

  Or love.

  But what was she to him? A tool. A weapon. You don't love a weapon.

  Nineteen was something to be used and thrown away when worn out. And if what Tay had said earlier was true, she'd just about outgrown her usefulness. He'd discard her or let her die. I had no idea what sort of death a telepath would suffer under their own powers, but it couldn't be pretty. Or pleasant.

  Somehow, I'd gotten so lost in my thoughts that I'd focused not on the fight, but on Nineteen's shoes. Mismatched flip-flops. My breath caught in my throat. Tay was a monster. And somewhere out there, there was a Twenty. And probably more. I blinked hard and glanced up.

  Nineteen had turned while I was distracted and was looking at me, head cocked to the side. Her face showed the first real emotion I'd seen on it - confusion. Somehow, I found that all the more distressing. Next to Nineteen, Tay continued his combination of dancing and mock boxing. A steady stream of "dawgs" and "yos" laced with just as many curse words tumbled out of him like an avalanche. Somewhere, there was an English teacher rolling over in his grave. Likely, a grave Tay had put him in.

  The Raven and Tay's guard were circling each other like lions. The guard looked untouched, but The Raven seemed to be a little worse for wear. There were small flaps of his mask hanging loose from his cheek and his costume was torn at the torso. Dotting the air above the duo was more of the smoke. Around them, pressed up against the walls, spectators were trapped, witnesses to the grisly exchange, afraid to move lest The Raven notice them. At the stairway, a mass of people were stacked on top of each other, trying to get out. It was hopeless. It was clear that, either by accident or design, The Raven's entrance had blocked the exit. People were screaming and still the music, soft and erotic, played on, a vulgar counterpoint to the bloodshed.

  From the crowd at the stairs, a man, a crazed look in his eyes, stepped forward, "Come on! We have to help!"

  A woman from the crowd, "He'll kill us!"

  "He'll kill us anyway," I muttered.

  The man bent forward slightly at the waist, arms and shoulders tense. Around me, the air crackled with electricity. The Raven turned, his full black mask unreadable. People around the man started crying out in surprise and pain. I could feel a slight pull at my belt and grabbed the buckle to keep it in place. Others who weren't as quick, or just closer, found their jewelry and other metal trinkets flying away from them and orbiting the man's clenched fists. Faster and faster, the metal circled, eventually starting to glow and melt. Finally, the man reached forward sending the metal flying toward The Raven.

  He didn't move. My mouth dropped open as I watched The Raven. He just stood and allowed it to hit him.

  The metal, now in molten, needle-sized shards, seemed to mostly bounce off him in purple sparks with no more effect than a swarm of flies on the ass of a cow. A few, far fewer than any one of us would have liked, made it through whatever protection he had, slicing his suit in a few places around the neck and shoulder. Behind him, the guard made a move and grabbed The Raven around the chest, pinning his arms to his sides.

  He still didn't move. It was as if he had lost interest in the fight. His head scanned back and forth slightly, looking, questioning.

  "That's it. Hold him!" the man called out. A primal yell exploded from him as he pushed his power harder. The crowd behind him started to gain a measure of confidence and slowly began to descend the stairs. A few calls of encouragement eked out when they thought The Raven couldn't identify them.

  Again, the metal in the room responded to the man. What he had already collected returned first and I kept my hand firmly on my belt buckle. Nissa too, tried to hold on to her various zippers and hoops. The stud in her lip shot out before she could stop it, but didn't seem to cause any damage. In front of us, the mirrored central column shattered into multiple spiderweb patterns as the metal mesh behind the glass responded. Most of the glass panels stayed in place, but a few fell.

  "You dumb asshat!" Tay screamed.

  Even as he spoke, I could see the truth in the statement. Inside the column, behind all that glass, was a woman. Older, maybe my age, but old for this group, she sat in an office style chair that swiveled, a tray with cookies and milk attached to the arm. She had a cookie in her hand, frozen at her mouth. Her eyes were wide, shocked. She looked somehow familiar. Like someone I knew, but older. Suddenly I made the connection. The hostess upstairs. An illusion of herself? Before I could blink, the column was completely restored.

  "Oops," the metal man across the room remarked lamely.

  Behind The Raven, the guard seemed to fade as if I were viewing him through a light fog. The Raven had already turned his head toward the column. He was attempting to turn the rest of his body. In spite of the illusionary column, I could hear her gasp.

  "Really? Oops?" Tay screeched. "Kill him! Kill him NOW!"

  The metal man redoubled his efforts, pulling nearly all the metal in the room to him. At the same time, the decorations, the music, even a few of the guests started to fade as the woman inside the column concentrated on the guard illusion. I chanced a glance over my shoulder to Tay's room. T
he pillows, sheets, sentries - all of it gone. There was a foot-high layer of mist on the ground that slowly poured out of the opening that had once been a doorway. In the center of the room there was a pile of rubble, presumably left over from early construction. All the doors that I should have seen were gone. Illusionary. There was still a chance there was a door on the other side of the rubble or somewhere else out of sight. Surely there couldn't be just the one exit.

  When the illusionist was revealed, The Raven was probably only five feet from the column. He'd slowly made progress despite the guard's best efforts. Suddenly, the mist on the floor flowed up into the air and solidified into the form of another guard in front of The Raven and grabbed him, attempting to hold him back. On the other end of the room, another primal yell followed by another storm of molten metal shards. This one larger and sustained. Both the guards and The Raven were obscured by it. The man not only had the metal hit the group once, but he had it circle the room two, three, four times. More. The metal whistled through the air over and over, tearing through everything in its path. Hot air blasted everyone else in the room, immediately drying out my eyes.

  I pulled Nissa behind me and put my arm up over my face. In front of me, Tay had ceased his dancing and cursing and stood shaking. I stepped forward toward Nineteen. The girl hadn't stopped looking at me. I locked eyes with hers and felt...something. Her brow furrowed slightly.

  A cry of pain and exhaustion brought me back to the battle at hand. The metal man looked like he was running out of steam. His legs were shaking and as much metal was sizzling on the ground as flying through the air as he cried out, trying to keep his attack going despite his faltering strength. More and more hit the ground and I could better see the combatants. Both of the guards were still standing, though one side of each of them was completely covered in metal debris. They looked like half-pincushions. Or one half-pincushion looking in a mirror with The Raven sandwiched between the images.

  The Raven had gotten his left arm free and had it extended out toward the metal man. The top half of The Raven’s costume, where the metal storm had been concentrated, was in tatters. The only parts that looked unscathed above the waist were the mask and gloves. The rest was a mess of shreds and pieces, still waving in the circular wind.