Chapter Forty-Five
Shaking himself out of the moment of inactivity brought on by the tiny child's murderous glee, Burgess put himself in motion. Sweeping the couch the Lieutenant had been hiding behind clear of glass with one hand, he set Giselle down on it, ensuring that she was lying comfortably. Turning to the other couch, he strode over the remains of the glass table in two, audibly crunching strides that carried him the distance between him and his target. Shoving the wood-framed piece of furniture ahead of himself, he wedged it into the doorway at an angle, so that the end of it was obstructing the top of the narrow flight of steps he and the others had climbed just a few minutes before. It would not stop the six remaining soldiers, but it would give them a moment's warning, at least.
"You are an abominable excuse for a human being."
Blinking at the sudden declaration, Burgess turned to find it had come from Murakami and had been directed towards Black, who was presently skipping back and forth over the dead soldier's body in a demented form of what looked like hopscotch. Standing on the man's blood-moistened chest, the little girl he appeared as twirled a lock of her blonde hair around one finger and grinned up to meet the outraged expression on the Asian woman's face. "Yeah, so?"
Unable to take the hooligan's flippant attitude for even a moment longer, Murakami seized the little girl by her red raincoat, bunching it up in her hands as she lifted her yellow booted feet from the floor. "Why don't the things you do affect you? You disrespect the dead, mock the living and treat murder like it is some kind of sick game. In the shape of an innocent child, no less!"
The little girl cocked her head to one side, her hat flopping comically to one side as she did. "Is that what's bothering you? Huh. Well, hang on."
Feeling the weight of the child she had seized beginning to increase, Burgess' second-in-command watched in disbelief as she began to grow. Her legs, stretching like putty, were able to reach the floor in seconds, while the rest of her raced to catch up with this sudden growth spurt; the raincoat clenched in Murakami's fists shifted and reformed itself into more business-like attire, though she maintained her grip even after it had changed. When Black was finished, the little girl had become a young woman of approximately Nadia's age; her shoulder-length, curly hair had darkened from blonde to a rich, nearly auburn shade of brown while her eyes had shifted from blue to hazel. Grinning with dazzlingly white teeth, she adjusted her shoulders, the black suit she had dressed herself in rolling with the motion. Her rain boots had become black shoes with the slightest of heels, while her purple leggings had become slacks that matched her suit in colour. She was, for lack of a better term, a female version of Black's usual form. Now slightly taller than Murakami, 'Miss' Black met the other woman's gaze and spoke with her new soprano voice. "Perhaps you'll find this body less distracting? Personally, it's more to my tastes than the kid was, but I don't presume to know your preferences. I can make some adjustments to suit your fancy, though, if you like."
Releasing the newly changed woman's suit, Murakami took in a deep breath; and then smacked her across the face as hard as she could. "I don't know what it is that's wrong with you and, normally, it wouldn't be my place to say, but I find your behaviour abhorrent. Let me remind you, whatever you are, that there is a thin line between what is fearless and what is reckless. You are most definitely the latter."
Feeling the stinging sensation on her cheek and tracing the outline of the red splotch beginning to form there with one finger, Black turned back to Murakami, still grinning. "Actually, I prefer the word 'insane'." Flicking the shorter woman gently on the nose with one finger, she winked playfully. "You're cute when you're angry, but I just don't have the nails for a cat-fight. Will you take a rain-cheque?"
Flustered, Murakami found herself scrambling for an answer; Burgess, however, decided it was time to cut in on this before it again became serious. "Black; you can stay like that if you like, as long as you do something helpful at the same time. I'm going to start barricading the doors with heavier things and some help putting things between us and the six men left over would be appreciated. Before that, though; Lawson, what's your plan to get out of here? If we're lucky, once you're gone, my boss will lose his reason to keep these men gunning for us."
Nadia, somewhat surprised that Burgess had not simply thrown her out to the men outside to save his own hide by now, stepped forward and held out the wing she was carrying. "These were Orion's plan. They let their wearer fly, supposedly. We didn't get into the details, but I'm pretty sure he was going to put them on and have me hold on tight."
Black, turning to look at the wing critically, snorted, tossing her hair with a flick of her head. "Yeah, that's not happening. There is no way I'm jumping out of a building with those ratty things on."
Burgess, towering over the shape-shifter, glowered down at him. "Yes, you are. Because it's either that plan or mine, which basically boils down to me throwing the pair of you outside before I barricade the door. I am up here solely to protect my people. The only reason I'm giving you this chance at all is because I'm pissed off at my employer for having put Giselle in danger like this in the first place when he didn't need to."
Staring haughtily up at him, the auburn-haired woman planted a hand on her hip. "Look, it's not negotiable. I would go out there and fight those six chumps following us by myself before I'd trust my life to something as ridiculous as magic wings, especially ones made of wax."
Sighing, Nadia shook her head. She had been afraid of this, of Black being uncooperative. If only Orion had come up with some kind of a plan for her to follow to get him back, like the one Black had laid out for her and Thomas. Pausing as this idea took hold, she felt a smile beginning to cross her face as she thought it the whole way through. "Say, Black; could you beat those six armed soldiers with only a stairwell and a narrow hallway to move in? That's an awful lot of bullets to come up against face-first."
The woman sighed. "All right, no, I don't think so. Not without a tremendous amount of luck, anyway. What's your point?"
"My point," she began, smugly. "Is that Orion has outsmarted you for a change. He knew you wouldn't risk your life; you're only a lot of bluster. Sure, you're dangerous and you scare the hell out of me, but you never do anything you aren't reasonably sure you can survive. You won't go outside to face those men because you'll probably lose, just like you won't jump because you don't know, for an absolute fact, that Daedalus' wings will keep you from dropping like a stone."
"Again," she spat, growing annoyed. "What's your point?"
"My point is that you're a coward, Black. You need to put Orion back in control, because, for all of your experience and supposed fearlessness, he's the one with real courage."
"Courage? Him?" Black uttered a short, derisive laugh as her fair features split into a grin for a moment, before becoming deadly serious once more. “That weakling has been running from nothing more substantial than the memory of things that happened before the dawn of modern civilization. He hasn't spent more than six months as himself in more than two and a half thousand years. I was the one who took over when things were tough, when things were bad. Which of us do you think fought in the Peloponnesian War? In the civil wars all across Greece that followed? In every major war that followed that we were sucked into just for being nearby at the time, all because those stupid, imaginary people he kept putting in charge felt some kind of duty to the local population? Do you have any notion of the number of times I've woken to find myself who-knows-where, with brigands or soldiers bashing in the door and children looking at me like I'm some kind of horror because seconds ago I was one of their parents? Or, for an example that even your paltry knowledge of history might be familiar with; being left to take care of things after waking up on some hellish, French beach during World War II, half-drowned and soaking wet, after the personality that bonehead you're so fond of put in control of his body tried to be a hero and got himself shot full of machine gun fire. Oh yes, he's got courage in spades,
that one. I especially love the way that all of the worst moments get pushed onto me because he's too busy moping in a corner over losing his lady fair."
Nadia wasn't sure how to respond; she had known of Black's origins and of Orion's history in Ancient Greece, but it had honestly never really occurred to her that he could have been involved in the major events of more recent centuries, too. She supposed it should have, but the man just never gave anything away without her having to take a crowbar to his secrets to pry them loose. Clearing her throat, she did her best to defend the man. "It took courage to storm those beaches. A lot of courage."
The woman before her barked another laugh. "Oh, absolutely, but it wasn't Orion who made that decision or saw it through, now was it? I doubt he even noticed there was anything wrong from the hole he was hiding in, way down deep. No; the run of the mill, average man he had left in charge had more courage than he did. Do I run instead of fight when I'm likely to die? Yes, but can you claim to do any differently? What use is just allowing yourself to be put six feet under when there is no reason for it?"
She rounded on Murakami as her rant gained momentum, her auburn hair flying as she whirled about. "Do I enjoy the pain I inflict on others? Absolutely. Do I care if it's disrespectful or not to your liking? Not a bit. Notions of sentiment go out the window the moment your trappings of civility are torn away from you; the atrocities committed in our world time and time again prove that without there being a single doubt in my mind. So don't you try to lecture me. Hate me, if it makes you feel secure in your sheltered little existence. But know that, whether you go your whole lives with your delusions of safety intact, I will outlast you all. I will outlast the human race in its entirety, if I have anything to say about it. I'll be the only survivor, the last one standing. The winner."
The room was silent for a long moment as the harsh, starving look that had come into Black's hazel eyes slowly faded. The first noise to be made was Burgess pushing the refrigerator over the tiled floor of the kitchen, then a soft bump as he moved it over the carpet of the living room, coming to rest against the doorway as he pushed the couch he had moved there previously out of the way and down the stairs. Feeling herself beginning to breathe again, Murakami glanced away from the woman in front of her and Nadia, mustering her own nerve, tapped the female shape of the mercenary on the shoulder. "Please; it's the only way out of here and I need Orion's help."
Turning back to her, Black smirked at her quieter approach; it was obvious she enjoyed seeing her opposition humbled, but she said nothing on the subject. "Well, since you asked nicely. The door's blocked now, anyway, so I suppose I don't have much choice."
Taking a few steps from Murakami, the formerly ranting individual took a deep breath and Nadia saw the first signs of the change beginning at her feet; her heel-bearing shoes flattened and widened out into the old and tattered shoes she was more familiar with. As the change began to progress, slowly, a question jumped to Nadia's mind; one she might not have the chance to ask again for some time. "Say, Black?"
Cracking open one eye, which had become more of a rusty burgundy than hazel by this point, the changing woman acknowledged that she had heard. "Hmm?"
"How did you meet with Thomas, that night in front of my parent's house?"
This was seemingly enough to warrant Black opening both eyes, the shadow of consternation darting through them and over her expression. "You mentioned that before... Well, I didn't. It's impossible for Orion's other selves to communicate; barring leaving notes for each other and hoping we get them, or speak the same language, for that matter. Trust me, it's happened."
Nadia frowned. "But Thomas saw you. You asked us to find something that would put Burgess away; it's what prompted us to come to this building the first time to look for evidence. Hell, it's what put all of this in motion!"
The mercenary managed a faint shrug, though she was rapidly losing control of those muscles, for the change had already progressed to her torso and expanded it to male proportions. "Well, it wasn't me, so I can't help you." Her expression tugging into a frown, Black looked at Nadia for a long moment, then sighed. "Tell Orion about it, would you? It's weird that someone other than us is going around copying people and, if you're right about it leading to all of this, whoever it is has some kind of agenda. If he'll be at the wheel instead of me, he needs to at least stay informed."
Nadia nodded. "I'll do that. Uh... thanks, I guess?"
With the change now snaking its way along her neck, Black grinned one final time. "Forget about it. Looks like my time's up, anyway. Can't say as I'll miss you people, but at least you made things interesting for a while."
The change, completing its progress, adjusted the now-male body's clothing to the tattered rags Nadia was more used to even as the slightly gaunt, pale-skinned visage of Orion overtook the features of the temporarily female mercenary. With his eyes taking on their usual crimson glow as the change came to a complete stop, the man took a moment to get his bearings; the sight of Burgess and his two companions briefly seized his attention, but he seemed to conclude they meant no harm when he saw that Burgess was busy pushing furniture and kitchen appliances to block the doorway, Murakami was holding one of Daedalus' wings and Jason was keeping a watch on Miss Fitch. Finding Nadia, he relaxed more visibly and gave his usual, quiet smile. "Hello again, Miss Lawson."
Realizing that she was genuinely glad to see him, Nadia passed her wing off to Murakami and moved over to give the man a welcoming hug; it took her a moment to realize that he had, tentatively, returned the gesture. Pulling back from him, she smiled broadly. "It's nice to see you, too, mister. Burgess, Murakami and Pasta-Jacket are helping us get out of here, since Apollo tried to screw them over, too. As much as I hate to say it, the wings are looking like our only option at the moment."
Absorbing all of this, Orion nodded smoothly. "Then I must ask for your assistance in putting them on, if you would be so kind?"
"Can do," she replied, surprised by the chipper tone of her voice. Giving herself a slight shake, she cleared her throat. "Oh; remind me to tell you something important later, when we've got a moment. It's about Black and Thomas."
Blinking at her, Orion nodded. "I will do so, but would it not be simpler just to tell me now?"
The sound of heavy thuds coming from the opposite side of Burgess' barricade were more than reason enough to hurry things along and Nadia laughed nervously. "No, I really don't think so."
In Icarus' Shadow Page 63
