Those Who Walk in Darkness so-1
Page 25
Then sudden violence, a burst of pain.
Then nothing.
Aubrey was gone. Vaughn was aware of it the second Soledad took him out. Incapacitated. Maybe he was dead. Didn't matter. Vaughn knew that the MTacs, even with him guiding Aubrey, letting him see them, were too much for his formidable abilities but limited intellect. But it didn't matter. Aubrey was expendable, and to that end he'd more than served his purpose. One cop killed, one cop torn up. The two who remained either too stupid, too scared, or too dedicated to turn tail and run. Whichever, Vaughn was fine with. If they were scared or stupid, then they'd die hiding or running. If they were dedicated, proud, vengeful, then they'd still die, but they'd stand and fight first. If that's how it was, Vaughn would have a chance to control them, torture them before he slaughtered them. Better still, they'd slaughter each other.
And then it would all be over. Michelle could rest easy. And Vaughn would join her. He'd be sent to join her. If not by the wave after wave of cops who would hunt him down, then by the other metanormals for his breaking of their most sacred tenant: Above all else do no harm. So quaint in the face of reality. So sickening in light of the fact that their kind are forced to hide in shadows, conceal their abilities, act, think, be normal. Or die.
So if that was the choice—live in fear or die, let Michelle's murder go unpunished or die, make a stand for the hunted and murdered or die…
Strange. Powerful as he was, Vaughn found himself a little anxious about having to face down the woman: Bullet.
Eddi had her HK up and aimed, ready to fire the instant she heard a sound at the door. If she'd been a little more jumpy, a split second faster with her trigger, Soledad would've been on the receiving end of a swarm of slugs.
Soledad called through the wood: "Eddi…"
Eddi opened the door, weapon poised, eyes checking Soledad for a bloody nose.
Soledad struggled into the room, her thigh oozing steady, lugging a body on her shoulder half wrapped in burlap. She dumped it on the floor like she was dumping a sack of potatoes but with even less care.
"The metal morpher." Already Soledad was moving for Vin, checking his leg.
"What about the other one?" Eddi asked.
"Still out there. He's playing with us. Used this freak to whittle us down."
Vin stirred. His eyes opened but stayed unfocused."Sooolaaa-dahh…" was as unslurred as his speech would get.
"Soledad…" Eddi nearly echoed Vin, her voice as unsteady as his.
With the end of her T-shirt Soledad wiped down the sweat on Vin's face."Almost out of here." Soledad used her shirt to wipe her own face."One more to get. He's going to be the hard one, though."
"Gaahh buuhleet fffa frreee…"
Breaking open another morphine injector, Soledad jabbed Vin's arm with the needle.
Eddi reached a hand to her upper lip."… Soledad…"
Vin began to surf a morphine dream. Where speech had failed him before, now even sounds were beyond him. His lips moved in silence. To Soledad they looked like they were saying: I love you.
Eddi, urgent: "Bullet!"
Soledad looked up.
Eddi said: "My nose is bleeding."
The next second was both instant and elastic. Long enough for Soledad to suss that Eddi's nose was bleeding because she was about to get puppeted by the telepath. Long enough for Soledad to grab for her piece, start to draw it. But not hardly long enough for Soledad to finish the job. Eddi's foot whipped out, caught Soledad's wrist and cartwheeled the gun across the room.
As fast as Eddi had moved, Soledad matched speed. Her right foot sprang out and smacked hard against Eddi's chest, doing double duty: It sent the girl flying backward and her HK skittering over the floor into the dark. The move was instantly followed by a charge from Soledad. A charge that got aborted when Eddi pulled a knife. The knife. Daddy's knife. The one meant to be driven hilt-deep into the chest of some freak. The one the mind-controlled Eddi was now trying to plunge into Soledad.
Stillness.
Eddi hesitated, fought against her unseen master. Pleading: "Bullet…"
Then, with all the malice the freak could feed her, Eddi came at Soledad. The knife in her hand was a stainless-steel blur that whipped and whistled, twisted then whipped again with its own imposed agenda: kill.
Even as she fenced and dodged, Soledad was amazed at the swiftness the freak moved Eddi, how precisely it directed her strikes. The thing that amazed her more was her own ability to keep just beyond the blade's edge. Desperation gave her speed same as the freak's hate gave Eddi fury. Soledad's arms swirled in front of her, a couple of snakes dancing, blocking, blocking.
Her leg went hot.
Eddi throwing out kicks to Soledad's wounded thigh, striking low while the knife went high.
The tip of Eddi's blade caught Soledad above the forearm. It tore her skin, sent an arch of blood streaming and forced from her a single grunt of pain. The knife came round again. Blocking as Eddi slashed, Soledad hemmed up the girl's right arm. Eddi swung with her left and that was caught too. Soledad jerked her close, held her tight.
"Eddi… Eddi, you gotta fight it."
"I…" Tears from her eyes. Blood from her nose."I can't."
Eddi's body dipped forward, down. Her leg whipped up behind her. Soledad saw the sole of Eddi's boot racing for her face. A second after that Soledad was a good twelve feet across the floor shaking her head clear as she sprang standing.
This was gladiator entertainment. Either the freak would kill Soledad by way of Eddi or Soledad would have to kill Eddi to stop the freak. Neither was much good as far as Soledad cared. But to change the situation, first off, the knife had to go.
Moving for Eddi, Soledad left an opening. Deliberately. Not too wide, but very inviting. A space between rib and waist that casually said: Insert blade here. A few feints, then Eddi… the freak by way of Eddi—went for it. All the symbiont got for its trouble was its wrist grabbed, yanked, twisted until the knife clanked to the floor. Still moving, still pulling, Soledad wrenched Eddi into a choke hold.
Into Eddi's ear, but to the freak: "Leave her alone. You want me, come and get me!"
"Bullet…" Eddi's voice, weak and scared."Don't hurt me."
Sympathy eased Soledad's grip.
Mistake.
Eddi kicked up and across her body, nailing Soledad in the head. Again Soledad took a short flight. Again she got dumped hard on the floor. Soledad was getting sick of the ride. She wasn't sure if the telepath was giving Eddi her skills, or if it was just using Eddi's own moves with a taste of her latent dislike of Soledad baked in. But what was becoming job one in Soledad's game plan was that Eddi's high-swinging, hard-kicking legs were the next thing to get taken out of the equation.
Back up, back on her feet, back to fighting. Soledad went back at the girl. She was getting puppeted? Too bad. Soledad threw punches, threw them hard. Kicks got delivered to hurt. To the head. To the head, to the ribs. Chest. To the head.
But fast as Soledad could strike, Eddi could counter and with more added. Soledad went from throwing punches to blocking punches to taking them. She took a hit to the face, felt her eye swell. A blow to the jaw, and she felt her teeth crack, her lip split and shoot blood. It flowed in her mouth, her throat, and made her nauseous.
Change of tactic.
Soledad moved backward, took off like she was running away, running scared, running toward a wall that would trap her. Eddi followed. The freak took the bait: Smelling the kill, it moved its host close.
Soledad, foot to the wall, stepped up, swung around, kicked back, landed a shot hard to Eddi's fast-approaching head.
The girl took the shot full on, did a boozy pirouette and dropped down, her left leg spindling out in front of her.
Bull's-eye.
Taking air, Soledad spun, extended, brought her boot down on target: Eddi's knee.
The burst of the synovial sac was gunshot loud. So loud it was audible under Eddi's scream. A scream that said the leg
was good as useless.
Soledad pulled back, took a breath. One breath was all she'd get in before Eddi came at her again, never mind her busted-up knee, like Soledad had done nothing worse than give her a foot massage.
Of course, she kept coming, Soledad thought as she went back to ducking punches. Eddi's knee was messed up, she was in bad pain.
So what? The freak didn't feel a thing. The freak just made Eddi keep on fighting.
Taking Eddi apart piece by piece was no good. If she didn't out and out kill the girl, Soledad knew she'd just end up crippling her. A knockout punch was the only way to go. One that would put Eddi down, keep her down.
Wait for the opening, Soledad coached herself.
Eddi came on, fists pumping for Soledad's head.
Wait…
Every blow meant to break Soledad, to batter Soledad. Every one of them meant to beat her to bloody death.
Wait for it…
Eddi, possessed and puppeted Eddi, tried to throw a kick at Soledad's throat. With her bad knee it was like trying to use a busted tree limb as a whip.
What Soledad was waiting for. She took Eddi by the leg, took hold tight. Pulling, putting her weight into the move, she spun, spun Eddi around until the girl left the ground, took flight, sailed in Soledad's grip, guided straight toward one of the vertical supports in the room. Eddi's chest took the impact, caved in as her torso wrapped around the beam. A hurricane of air rushed from her crushed lungs; body armor the only thing that kept her rib cage from shattering. Eddi fell out all over the floor, unconscious and free of the telepath's control.
Soledad felt the rain of perspiration sliding over her, down her arms. She felt each drop that clung, that clung to the ends of her fingers, then fell away from her.
A hand to the girl's throat, Soledad checked Eddi's pulse. Weak. Breathing shallow. Her leg, where her knee was snapped, was all twisted up. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. Maybe, Soledad thought, doctors would be able to hack it back together in a way Eddi wouldn't be stuck with a limp for the rest of her life. Assuming there was to be a rest of her life. Eddi, banged up and knocked out.
Vin, doped up, torn up. At the moment their fates and futures very much rested entirely with Soledad.
Soledad looked around the room, saw her gun lying in a pool of light. She laughed. Was that supposed to mean something? She crossed to the gun and picked it up, swapped out the clip for another marked with a clear band.
In a loudly spoken voice: "I'm coming for you, you son of a bitch!" Soledad said to the telepath: "I'm coming to kill you!"
Right here!" Soledad screamed."I'm right here, freak!" she ranted. She'd been on a rant since she'd left Eddi and Vin in that back room and wandered out into the building. She ranted, yelled. She breathed verbal fire. Soledad did everything but think. Lack of thought, rage as a blind to her designs, was her only defense. In her hand, her gun. That was her only chance."You scared, freak? Got no more little girls to hide behind; do your fighting for you."
The sun cast odd shadows through half-boarded windows. Broken glass bent light into colors. And there was the metal and the auto parts. All still and lifeless now. They'd stay that way.
Then Soledad got with a thought: What if it wasn't just the metal morpher backing up the telepath? What if it had other flying or radiating or freakishly powerful friends?
Then Soledad got with another thought: Other than her family, Ian, cops who'd go 'cause they had to, her funeral was going to be a lonely event. She wondered if Gayle would show.
Too much thinking.
"I'm going to put a bullet in your freak head! Put a hole right in it and let your freak brains come spilling out!" Keep ranting.
It was close, sucking on Soledad's fear like a crackhead on a pipe.
Just keep ranting."What kind of freak head you got anyway? One of those big fat Star Trek heads to keep your mind-reading freak brain in?"
Close. Soledad could almost feel him. Almost. Was that the mutie trying to work its way into her brain?
"Shooting that thing is going to be like popping a balloon. Come on out so I can stick a pin in it."
Nothing. Very suddenly there was nothing. Literally no sensations at all. Soledad saw nothing, could see nothing. There were no sounds, smells. She had no feeling of the ground beneath her. There was no up or down, or sense of space. There was only an endless, endless white. A pale night without limit. Soledad closed her eyes to shut it out. Thought she closed them. The white was still there. She screamed. Thought she screamed. The silence was as undisturbed as before she'd tried to make a noise. Soledad was in a vacuum, aware of nothing except her own swelling terror.
From the center of the emptiness, from everywhere, came a voice.
More than that.
Words weren't spoken. They simply existed.
And the words were: That easy. It's that easy to take everything away from you just like you took everything from me.
Soledad was flying.
As quickly as sensation had been replaced by nothing, she found herself outside on an LA hot day flying on a pair of wings that sprouted from her back. Below her was the street: Olive Street. And there was a sinkhole, and a crowd of people pointing up. Pointing at her. Their faces, clear at a distance, full of revulsion. And there was a cop in uniform: tall, thin. Slight, but at the same time imposing.
The cop said: "This how it was? The sinkhole would've killed how many? Couple dozen people?"
This wasn't real. Soledad knew she wasn't outside, that she wasn't flying. She sure as hell didn't have wings. This was not real. Unreal as it was, Soledad could feel the air on her skin and taste the smog she floated through. The telepath had taken her own memories, built a stage and set a scene. But that was all it was: sleight of hand done with thoughts and remembrances. This was not real. Soledad tried to convince herself as she turned her head to shield her eyes from the too-warm sun.
"Michelle saved them." He didn't shout. But the policeman had no trouble making himself heard to Soledad way above him."She knew she could get sent to prison. She knew she could get…" His voice slipped and caught."But she saved all of those people anyway. And you…
"How'd you feel when you killed Michelle, when you murdered my wife? You feel special then, Bullet, huh? You feel invincible? Powerful? Did you even feel anything at all, or was shooting her no different than stepping on an ant? Lemme show you something." The cop, the telepath, put a hand to the gun in his holster."Lemme show you how Michelle felt."
The cop drew the gun.
Instinct made Soledad want to fly off, put as much distance as she could between herself and the cop.
Pointless.
She wasn't flying anyway. She couldn't move any farther away than the freak would let her. The thing was just working her; pumping up her fear because it could.
Thought it could.
Soledad wasn't playing. She wouldn't try to escape what couldn't be escaped. She wouldn't let herself be afraid of what didn't exist. Children were afraid of monsters in the dark. Soledad wasn't a child.
Below on a street that wasn't there the telepath took aim.
It's not real, Soledad told herself.
It, the freak, Vaughn, fired the gun.
She told herself: What's not real can't hurt you.
The bullet struck Soledad in the chest. The pain it ignited consumed her body. She looked at herself, saw the wound. Not too big. Not hardly big at all. How could something so small hurt her entirely? Sky and earth traded places. Soledad went into an ugly tumble for the ground; in turn the sun speeding away and the street rushing closer. No way to judge the distance and no way to prepare for the impact. No time for either.
She hit.
She hit the ground hard. Sounds poured into her ears: The slap of a body on asphalt. The endless crackle of shattered bone. The slurping of punctured lungs as they filled with blood. All this gift-wrapped in a new and complete agony that shoved the comparatively small hurt of her bullet wound from Soledad's mind.<
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The cop walked for Soledad. As it did, its uniform faded back into civilian wear. The street melted and turned to floor. The people, the gawkers, first became transparent images then dissolved to nothing. Soledad was back inside the building at the salvage yard, on the floor; back where she'd always been. The only thing that stayed the same was the pain.
The telepath squatted down in front of Soledad. She craned her neck to look up at it. The rest of her was useless. Bones, maybe not really broken, felt, acted that way.
Vaughn said: "All those people. Michelle didn't know them, but she cared about them. That was her obligation. It was for all of us. We made a gift of the things we could do, and you made us criminals."
"No one…" — fighting her hurt with every word spoken—"… aahh—asked you to be our saviors. No one tuh—told you to."
"Tornados, floods, earthquakes. Crime and terrorism. Every disaster, natural and man-made… every senseless, useless death: You'd rather've suffered all that than let us help you?"
"… You thought you were gods… acted like we were peh— pets. Oughta… ahhh… be thankful while you did Jesus work." Soledad rested her head on the floor, her body wet with the sweat that it shed."… Didn't save us. Made slaves out of us."
"If you saw a rabbit getting torn up by dogs, you wouldn't do anything? You wouldn't save it, wouldn't try to help? Is what we tried to do any different?"
"That wha—what we are… animals for you to protect?"
Just below the virtual pain, Soledad could feel the telepath crawling through her mind, fire ants, getting ready to control her.
Vaughn said inside her: Jesus, you've got some hate in you. I think there's nothing to you but hate.
"… Goddamn right I hate you…"
I try to tell you about my wife, I try to make you feel something, and you don't… No. Know something, I don't think you can feel a thing. I think if you had the chance, you'd kill us all.
"F-fucking right!"
That's a chance you're not gonna…
The ants stopped scurrying.
She couldn't see it, but Soledad could feel the telepath's lips twist. A smile.