“Hey there you are,” Gabe said as I walked up to him. “Was starting to think you would show.” I checked my watch then rolled my eyes.
“I’m not even late, what do you want?” I retorted.
“Uhh, forget it,” he said, looking me up and down. “You look okay, kinda butch don’t you think?” I glanced down at my outfit; my usual cargo shorts, plain shirt, and leather jacket.
“I guess,” I said with a shrug, suppressing a grin. “What, afraid a girl’s gonna look like more of a man than you?” He winced.
“Nah,” Gabe said, but his smile looked forced. “It’s fine, c’mon.”
I fell in beside him as we started up the sidewalk. We were a ways up Thirty-third Street, closer to the downtown than the Docks. The way we were going led straight there though, I could see the dark shapes of blocky warehouses looming ahead. So familiar ground, or at least somewhere I’d been before.
“You really brought your backpack to a party?” Gabe commented as we walked.
“Girl’s got to come prepared,” I replied, offering a sardonic grin.
“Prepared for what?” He sounded confused.
“Girl stuff,” I said. “C’mon, do I really need to spell it out for you?”
The choked noise of embarrassment he made told me that no, I actually didn’t. Thank god I had a uterus...what a fucking sentiment. Still, it kept him from asking any more about my bag of tricks, hard to complain about. Of course I’d brought my ‘costume’, stuffed below my usual overnight stuff. My knife and knuckle were in my pockets, just in case we got into trouble before arriving. It was still the East End, even if I was theoretically safer traveling with someone. A hand touched my back and I whirled, making Gabe back away quickly.
“Whoa, chill,” he said quickly, raising his hands.
“What’re you trying to pull?” I asked, glaring.
“Just...kinda cold isn’t it?” he said awkwardly.
“Hands to yourself,” I snapped as we continued walking.
“You sure are frigid,” Gabe grumbled, quiet enough he probably didn’t want me to hear.
“I survived Leviathan, I survived the Nine,” I retorted. “I didn’t do it by letting anyone get handsy, got it?”
“Fine, jeez.”
At least it seemed he did, since he didn’t try grabbing me again. He was lucky I wasn’t keyed up, or he’d be learning how many bones were in his hand the painful way. As we got closer, I could hear a dull thumping sound that was growing ever louder. Gabe seemed to get more excited, chatting animatedly about how cool the party was going to be and how much fun I was going to have. He didn’t know the half of it…
Finally I spotted our destination, more because of the crowd outside than any distinguishing features; a brick warehouse with boarded up windows, though otherwise intact. It was a little further along than the crossroads I’d been stopped at the other night, a little deeper in enemy territory. I’d have to be damned careful if I decided I was going to cause trouble.
The people outside were mostly young, though probably more adults than teens like us. Lots of leather jackets, lots of shaven heads...and more than one person openly displayed a wolfsangel or crossed-Ws on their arms or backs. Fuck sake, well that was one thing settled. It did make me a little more nervous, having that confirmed. There’d been some small part of me that hoped this guy was just a genuine dumbass trying to score instead of a Nazi potentially luring me into a trap.
I damn near hadn’t gone when I’d thought about that possibility. It was a real one, I’d pissed off someone who was probably connected somehow. No proof that ‘Nick the Nazi’ was actually a gangster, but the nickname didn’t exactly scream ‘champion of progressive values’. But knowing it was a possibility, a probability even, made the idea of a trap a little easier to stomach.
They were planning for a kid, and they’d get a hell of a surprise.
“Hey Ryan,” Gabe greeted a guy with a forehead like a brick wall and a barely-there moustache. “How’s it going dude?”
“Hey Gabriel, not bad man,” he replied, both guys grasping each others’ forearms briefly. Ryan looked over at me, smiling. “And hey to you, miss. Ryan Donovan, friend of Gabe’s. And you are…?”
“Spoken for,” Gabe muttered. I took Ryan’s extended hand and offered a smile.
“Mela,” I said, giving a limp-wristed shake. There was exactly one person who called me that and… Well, no one here would recognize it. “So what’s this about?”
“Oh just a get together,” Ryan said with a shrug. “Buncha friends, guys from school, some local dudes who know how to party that’s all.”
“Cool,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “So can we go in or are we just going to sit out here all night?” Ryan chuckled.
“It’s around back, come on,” Gabe grumbled, grabbing my hand before I hand a chance to react. I squeezed it until he yelped, then let him pull away. “What the fuck?!”
“I warned you not to get handsy,” I said simply, heading the way he’d tried to pull me.
“Pulled a feisty one buddy,” Ryan called out as Gabe caught up.
“What’s your problem?” Gabe asked, voice low. “I thought we were cool.”
“What gave you that impression?” I replied. “Dude I broke someone’s nose because he called me a dyke, and you opened tonight by saying I looked like a ‘butch’. Maybe be glad you’re not bleeding.”
“I didn’t mean it like you were a fuckin’ carpet muncher,” he mumbled, making my eye twitch. I forced a smile.
“Good,” I said, barely keeping my voice level. “Then yeah, we’re cool, but keep your hands off unless I say otherwise or I’ll break them.”
He didn’t complain and we came around the back of the building where a short line of people led to an open door with pulsing music streaming through. More gangsters, and I could see a guy at the front playing bouncer with a barely hidden wolfsangel tattoo on his arm. Here and in force, definitely had to be careful.
“Hey Mike,” Gabe greeted the bouncer when we got there. Well that settled whether he was a Nazi or not. “Let us in?” Mike blinked.
“Who’re you?” he asked, voice surprisingly high for his wide frame.
“What? Come on, I’m Ryan’s buddy,” Gabe replied nervously. “Remember at the thing last week, he introduced me.”
“Oh, the probie,” Mike said, nodding. “This your plus one? Scrawny.” I could break you in two with one fucking hand, asshole.
“Yeah try surviving on your own in the fucking apocalypse of the bay,” I spat, getting a chuckle.
“Fighter though, get along with Mel probably,” Mike said, pointing at my bag. “Weapons?”
“Duh,” I said.
“Keep them in there or we talk,” he said gravely. “And I don’t like talking.”
“Cross my heart, boss,” I said with a shrug. “I’m here for a party.”
“Then go ahead.”
As soon as I stepped through the door, I regretted not bringing earplugs. God that bass was fucking awful, drowned out everything else. Why were they playing techno anyway? I was pretty sure metal was the Nazi thing. I followed Gabe into the warehouse, taking the time to look around as we entered the main room. It was mostly wide open, with only a couple partitions dividing the space; and it was crowded.
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I’d never been to a party like this, was never the kind of person to get invited. Even if I wasn’t here to probably be taught a lesson about picking on the master race, I didn’t think it was my thing. Way too many people for one, and christ alive the heat. It had gotten ten degrees warmer the second we walked inside.
I pushed my discomfort aside and weaved through the crowd after Gabe. Had to feel this place out before I did anything. One benefit of being tiny like me was slipping under the radar, so once I ditched Gabe in a few minutes I could scout unnoticed. It also made it a lot easier to squeeze through places even a lanky guy like Gabe couldn’t.
“Wait here,” he said, stopping us in a relatively quiet corner of the room. “Someone I want you to meet, a really good friend.” Wow, okay, thanks for the warning.
“Cool,” I replied, watching his back as he threaded through the crowd.
And like that, I took off. Since he’d been kind enough to telegraph his ambush, the least I could do was do something about the party. Near the back there was a bar serving stuff I really didn’t need when I was planning on fighting. I considered making trouble, but discarded it. Too close to the door, and not enough people to have enough effect. I wouldn’t kill anyone, but I’d make enough of a problem that they had to shut down.
Or better, maybe hunt down someone I recognized. I’d gone over the identities of the outed Empire members, made sure I could recognize them masked or not. Whether they recognized me well...Hookwolf and Victor knew, that probably meant the others did too. I really needed to change my look properly, maybe ask Amy to…
No, wouldn’t bring her into this at all. Besides, she didn’t do cosmetic stuff anyway so it was a non-starter. Well, would have been smarter to figure out a disguise before I was here, but alas. I briefly surveyed the crowd before diving back in, an idea slowly forming about how to shut this show down.
The main room where Gabe had led me was roughly divided in three, at least the crowd was. The bar at the back was, ironically, the quietest part despite the alcohol I could smell on everyone’s breath. The crowd thickened the closer to the driving music I pushed, beyond it I could see a raised platform with a blonde, heavily tattooed guy head-banging while he worked a large synth in front of him.
Closer to the music, I could see things got a bit nastier. Instead of just a crush of bodies dancing and moving, I could see fists flying and kicks being thrown around. A mosh pit, I vaguely recalled Kid Win mentioning them as a reason he didn’t go to punk shows in town. It would be the perfect place to start trouble, but still wasn’t where I wanted to. No, I had to shut this down properly.
Sticking to the edges, I got through the worst of the moshing without much hassle beyond a couple stray punches striking me. No damage of course, but I had to pause each time to hit back; wasn’t going to take it lying down. When I caught sight of the DJ platform, I grinned. It was what I’d hoped for, a mesh of crisscrossing metal tubes only half hidden under a drape. Strong enough when it was set up right, but if some of those tubes suddenly gave way?
I moved back and searched along the wall until I found a door. It was locked but, after making sure no one was watching, I crushed the latch and slipped inside. It was pitch back in here, and reaching out I hit a wall almost right away. Some kind of utility closet maybe? It didn’t matter. I slipped my bag off my back and leaned against the door to make sure no one followed me through.
Despite the dark, changing was relatively easy and before long I was in my turtleneck and tac pants, with my balaclava folded up like a beanie on my head. I ran my hands over my chest, making sure the crappy stitches I’d fixed my shirt with hadn’t come undone. Satisfied, I transferred my knife and knuckle to my pants, then stuffed everything in my bag and put it on before going back out and vanishing into the crowd.
Like before, no one paid attention to me unless they happened to lash out and strike. The flashing, multi-coloured lights would hopefully do enough to disguise my face that people wouldn’t be able to recognize me as the cape who’d be crashing their party. I approached the stage and, when there was a gap in the crowd in just the right place, dove underneath and out of sight.
Well...here I was. I blanked for a moment on what exactly to do, surely it wasn’t as easy as just crushing the legs and dropping it. I pursed my lips as I pulled my balaclava down, carefully looking over what little I could see in the dim light. I didn’t want it to fall down on top of me, and I wanted the maximum effect on the crowd. Dumping it towards them made the most sense then, and I could see two pairs of crossed tubes at the front that would probably make the stage collapse the right way.
With a deep breath, I waddled up to the front and grabbed the first pair of tubes and wrapped my hand around both of them where they crossed over. The other was just out of reach, so I’d have to move fast. I practiced the motion of jumping from one to the other pair a few times, then took a deep breath to settle my nerves. Time to go.
With a sharp shriek of metal I could hear even over the driving music, I crushed the tubes to scrap then leaped over and did it again half a second later. I scrambled back as the stage slowly tipped forward and collapsed, accompanied by the screaming of the crowd as the music suddenly shut down. There was a tremendous crash and a roar, and the screaming redoubled. The fuck?
A low ‘boom’ echoed over even the screams of the partiers, and as I got out of the pile of scrap I’d created I saw why. A monstrous, demonic looking dog had torn through the wall and a thick cloud of pitch black was rolling across the floor. I could see Grue ducking in and out of it, punching up the few Nazis stupid enough to think they could take him.
In the center of the room stood a man. His only distinct features, not covered by a smooth mask decorated with all kind of Nazi symbols, were his tremendous frame and striking, platinum blonde hair. He fit the descriptions of Hannibal I’d read about and I felt my pulse spike. That rat fuck had nearly killed Bailey. Time to collect on his behalf.
While I was still getting out of the scrap pile, Hannibal rushed into the cloud of darkness after Grue. One of them was a high-rated Brute, and the other could blind people; I didn’t like Grue’s odds, but he had one advantage that Hannibal didn’t know about. Granted he didn’t know either, but it was less important that Grue know I was coming to help and more important that Hannibal didn’t.
I charged towards the cloud of darkness, stopping as soon as it reached my calves. I could see flashes of flying fists and elbows occasionally stick out of the thicker cloud ahead and waited. It wasn’t long before my patience was rewarded, with Hannibal ducking out of the cloud and backpedaling straight towards me.
I pounced, snapping a hand out and grabbing his wrist. It was nearly large enough that my hand couldn’t get a grip, but my projection helped me dig in. Hannibal looked down and I saw pale blue eyes widen in panic behind his mask. His opposite fist flashed forward and slammed into my face, to no effect. As I began to squeeze, his flailing became more desperate. He was tough, a real Brute who was anywhere from bullet to bombproof.
He wasn’t me-proof though.
It gave all at once, the flesh and bone shearing under my hand. Hannibal’s scream was louder than the music had been, and only cut off when Grue dove out of his cloud and delivered a flurry of haymakers into his head. I let him go and he collapsed with a moan of pain, suddenly cut off as he vanished under the darkness. Grue knelt and fiddled around for a moment, then rose and stared at me.
“Who’re you?” he demanded.
“No one important,” I said quickly. “Just a dumb kid trying to play hero. Uhh, I’ll just...go.”
“Leaving the party so soon?” A chill went up my spine as Tattletale’s voice filtered through the hole in the wall. She appeared around the growling dog’s flank a moment later. “C’mon don’t be like that, you helped us out here. Least we can do is pay you back.”
“No need,” I said, shaking my head. “Job well done is enough for me.”
“A real hero,” she drawled. “Hope you’re not planning to arrest us then, are you Amaranth?” I stiffened as Grue’s head snapped towards Tattletale, then back to me.
“Amaranth?” he demanded, then scoffed. “Shit, thought your power felt familiar.”
“Out of costume, all alone, and on a school night no less,” Tattletale said, shaking her head. “Someone’s on the rocks with the PRT.”
“Fuck off,” I snapped.
“You’d better,” she retorted with a grin. “Heroes are on their way.” I swore viciously.
“Then I need to get gone before they show up,” I said, taking a step towards the hole and freezing as Grue grabbed my shoulder. I grabbed his wrist and looked up at him. “Really bad idea when you just saw what I did to Hannibal.”
“One question,” Tattletale said, stepping up and practically looming over me. “If I’m satisfied, you go, if not…”
“Fine,” I growled, sweat stinging my eyes as I let Grue go, and he took his hand away.
“What the hell did you mean by ‘Gold Morning’?”
“What?” I frowned and cocked my head. “What is that, is that this party?”
“It’s the end of the world, dumbass.”
“Oh.” I blinked, right that was a thing. “So I guess you answered your own question.”
“The fu—” Tattletale glowered at me, eyes rapidly flicking up and down as she stared. “You don’t know.”
“No shit?” I said with a shrug. “Wasn’t it Coil’s pet precog, Dinah or whatever, who predicted it?”
“You did know,” she muttered. “So why don’t you now? What happened?” I thought back for a moment.
“Scion healed me, in New Delhi,” I said. “I don’t know what was going on before, not exactly, but apparently I was saying some crazy stuff. Um, someone thought I might have had my brain scrambled when I got eaten by Echidna and that was what got fixed. Sorry if that fucked with you, I guess?” She stared silently for a moment.
“Get out of here,” Tattletale finally said. “Won’t tell the Protectorate about your night out because well, I’m just a nice girl after all.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
“Not accurate, but I appreciate it,” I said genuinely. “And…thanks for the backup tonight. I probably could have disarmed Hannibal myself but—”
“Awful.”
“But,” I ignored her bitching. “I appreciate that you guys are taking on the Nazis when the Protectorate won’t.” She stared at me for a moment.
“You’re a waste of a Ward,” Tattletale said, shaking her head. “Scat, before you get screwed over for trying to be a hero.”
I did, jogging through the hole their dog had made in the wall and into the city beyond. My heart was racing as I ran through the streets, sirens shrieking louder and louder as the heroes responded to the fight. None of them came for me though, a lucky break that I was going to take to the bank. Checking my watch I sighed, almost eleven. Had to hurry, or Amy would start worrying.
I picked up my pace as I ran through sidestreets, eager to get home.