Issue #66 – City by the Lake

This entry is part 6 of 16 in the series The Descendants Vol 6: Returns and Departures

 
Part 4
 
Facsimile ground her teeth as she reached a decent cruising height for their search. Zero, who didn’t have to do anything to fly but will it, was already out ahead of them, thought not out of shouting distance. And meanwhile, Shade’s Apprentice, who apparently had to trill a short tune on her flute was rising up smoothly beside Facsimile.
 
And she was sitting, sidesaddle for some unfathomable reason, upon an eight-foot-long, black feather. No; the golden heroine had to correct herself, taking note of the sharpened tip and the rings of languid, opaque smoke issuing from it; it was a quill pen.
 
“Can you… Is there any way you can try and not be a cartoon version of a goth chick while we’re being seen together?” Facsimile finally asked. “The clothes, the piercings, the flute… the tribute to Edgar Alan Poe that even I can figure out; it’s laying it on really, really thick.”
 
“Theatricality and exaggeration are the key to a good, easy to maintain secret identity.” said Shade’s Apprentice said, “And dark colors, combined with familiar concepts that the target doesn’t fully understand increases the intimidation factor. People associate the goth subculture with morbidity and vague occult elements. Their ignorance works in my favor.”
 
“So are you a goth in real life?”
 
“Not unless I go clubbing. I’m more of a sexy librarian type.” the other heroine grinned.
 
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” Facsimile growled, still bitter about the interrupted fight in the museum. “And a pale chick showing her boobs and riding a feather is not intimidating. It’s just attention grabbing.”
 
“Because a naked golden angel isn’t?” Shade’s Apprentice shot back.
 
“Hey, I just…” She started, petered out, then tried again. “See, the first time we… Shut up.”
 
Shade’s Apprentice laughed throatily. “Sorry, it was just too easy. Truce?” Facsimile growled instead of agreeing, but the other woman seemed to take it as a ‘yes’.
 
“So can I ask you a question?” Another growl. “What’s Ephemeral like?”
 
Facsimile narrowed her eyes. “Does he have some sort of girl magnet? Granted, our cup of super-dudes isn’t really overflowing in Mayfield, but with three guys on the team, I would have figured a more even spread. But no, Ephemeral is the guy all the bad girls want. Which is weird, since he’s actually a sweet guy who you would think would be with like, well… her.” She gestured at Zero.
 
For her part, Zero glanced back. “… We’re supposed to be looking for trucks and things the Outliers could have taken, right?” Beneath her half-mask, she was blushing furiously with embarrassment.
 
“It’s the costume.” said Shade’s Apprentice with a shrug. “Alloy’s in that armor, Chaos has the cape in the way, but Ephemeral? It’s all tight spandex all over the place. Mmm.”
 
“Ballistic cloth, actually, Facsimile said, envisioning exactly what the other woman was. “It’s better, because it doesn’t fold and bunch up like spandex can.”
 
“Box truck!” Zero squeaked in a panic. “You know, down there. We should investigate.”
 
Shade’s Apprentice looked at Facsimile. “Why’s she so jumpy?”
 
“Don’t mind her.” Facsimile waved it off. “She’s got a boyfriend and she’s kind of skittish looking at other guys. It’s kind of adorable, like she thinks it’s cheating.”
 
Zero swooped lower, then looked up at them. “Can we please investigate the box truck?”
 
“You’re right; she is adorable.” Shade’s Apprentice shook her head at Zero. “That highway leads out of town. Since they didn’t get the people they were after, they’re probably not skipping town yet.”
 
As Zero’s shoulders sunk, Shade’s Apprentice’s palmtop rang. She checked the icon, saw that it was Umbrage calling and answered, “Go, Boss.”
 
“Something came over the scanner. There’s been an emergency response call in on the Gold Coast. A man was attacked in his back yard—by something with claws. Codex thinks that something was one of the group our bounty hunters are after.” His tone was grave and cautious. Immediately, she knew that if he would have to go after that attack er too, regardless of what Codex thought.
 
It was in his nature. Not many in the department knew just how horribly he’d been tortured; how the men who kidnapped him took all their frustrations and fears about cops out on him; burning and cutting and scarring him however they could while keeping him alive and conscious.
 
Little did they know that their actions created the stalker of murderers, abusers and other violent, dangerous thugs known alternately as The Shade, and Umbrage. Mob hitmen, sadistic killers, sexual predators—all of them became his prey.
 
Just from hearing him talk, Shade’s Apprentice knew that he suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. And is way of dealing with it, unhealthy as it might be, was sharing it. With people he felt deserved it more. While she wanted to be a prelate to make a difference, he was one because it was a compulsion.
 
“Got it boss.” She said carefully, knowing full well that she had little chance at keeping him from going too far beyond resolving the situation first, “Just text me the address and we’ll get there ahead of you.”
 
***
After leaving the museum, Tillie had seen Anura and Geiger coming, grabbed Rain’s hand, and ran until she couldn’t anymore. That was why they were currently leaning beside an L train power shed in a part of town they’d never been in before.
 
She was gasping for breath, while Rain borrowed her palmtop and was using the GPS to figure out where they were.
 
“Any idea who they were?” The younger girl asked, tapping away at the phone’s screen. “And what they wanted?”
 
“No idea.” Tillie huffed. She was doubled over, hands on her knees, flush with the effort of carrying Rain across and through a big chunk of Chicago.“But you hear all the time on the news about another descendant kid going missing. There’s plenty of people who want us, for reasons you never hear about, so I’m not going to take a chance at them snatching you.”
 
Rain frowned. “But my power is useless, and if they wanted to catch you, a big slow guy and a giant snake? Plus, it seems odd they’d do it in public.”
 
“Are you willing to take that risk?”
 
“I guess not.” She agreed. Finally, the screen she was looking for came up. “Hey, we’re only six blocks from your work. Do we have enough money for a cab?”
 
Tillie nodded. “Good thinking. Mrs. Rimbu might be there, and she can call the DRW headquarters in Mayfield. They’ll know how to get in touch with Codex, and she’ll know what to do about this.” She straightened up, tried to take a deep breath, then leaned against the shed. The hum coming through the concrete from the generator helped relax her.
 
“In the meantime, call Kevin and let him know what happened and tell him to be extra careful. With any luck, he’s found Noah.”
 
“I hope.” Raid said, and placed the call.
 
After two rings, the phone was answered in a rush. “Thank god!” Kevin Quaid’s voice on the other end was loud enough that Tillie could hear it from several yards away. “I’ve been trying to call, but underground, the reception was terrible. Please tell me you’ve been following local news.”
 
“Why were you underground?” Rain asked.
 
“The news.” Kevin ignored the question. “Did you hear it?”
 
Rain shook her head and gave Tillie a questioning look. “No, we were at the museum and…” she stopped herself from telling him what happened just yet so she could hear what he was so flustered over, “What news? Is it about Noah?”
 
“I’m not sure.” Kevin admitted, “But it doesn’t sound good. Remember how me and Noah were looking into what happened on Streeterville? We split up around Gold Coast, following a trial when I last saw him.”
 
“You’ve already told us that much.” said Rain.
 
Kevin swallowed and tried to catch his breath. “I got a news alert while I was down there; I guess I walked through an area where I could actually get reception or something—anyway, someone’s been attacked up at Gold Coast.”
 
“You think…” Rain started.
 
“The only other answer is worse.”
 
Tillie pushed off the shed and spoke loudly enough for the receiver to pick her up. “We’re not even going to talk about that. Kevin, we’re going to Mrs. Rimbu’s campaign Headquarters. Can you meet us there?”
 
“I really think I should get over to Gold Coast. Noah…”
 
“Things are worse than you think.” Tillie cut him off. “when we went to meet Codex today, there were people waiting for us: descendants like us, only I’m pretty sue they were like the Academy’s Enforcers. They tried to take Rain, Kevin.”
 
There was a sputtering on the other end of the line. “What? Then we need to find Noah even more. He thought we could stay here until the campaign was over, but Tillie, we have to leave. Now. And we’re not leaving Noah behind.”
 
“You don’t think I know that?” Tillie shot back. “You know how I… we feel about Noah. We’re not leaving him behind, but we can’t deal with everything that’s coming at us. Codex and at least Facsimile are here, but since Noah’s the only one that has her number on his palmtop, I’m trying another way.”
 
She took a long, steadying breath. “Trust me, okay? We’re all in this together. Noah says it all the time: We’re kin and we have to rely on each other. This time you guys rely on me.”
 
After a moment of silence, Kevin spoke again. “Okay, Tillie. I’ll see you at Rimbu HQ. Both of you keep safe.”
 
Tillie sorely wished she could promise him they would.
 
***
Even without the address, the house where the attack happened was easy to pick out from the air thanks to the three squad cars and the CSI van out front.
 
“You know, I don’t even think this many cops showed up when we were fighting a triceratops in the middle of a public street.” said Facsimile. “Who was this guy?”
 
Shade’s Apprentice sighed. “That’s just how coverage goes on tall across the Near North Side, a lot of the rich neighborhoods. I’m not saying it’s a good thing; it’d be nice if they did the same when someone in Riverdale or really anywhere on the South Side got attacked.”
 
“Ugh. Well let’s just get down there and do our superhero thing.” said Facsimile.
 
“Fine by me, but let me do that talking.” Shade’s Apprentice banked her quill toward the house; a three story mansion with a circular drive, but surprisingly narrow side lawns. Ten feet above the ground, the quill dissolved into black smoke that looked and acted more like ink dropped in water than smoke, and she drifted slowly to the ground, playing a haunting tune on the flute.
 
Still in the air, Facsimile turned to Zero. “Can you believe her?”
 
The other heroine shrugged. “You do things to scare people all the time. She just tries to creep them out. I don’t see much difference.”
 
Facsimile rolled her eyes and lunged to the ground after their temporary partner. She hit the drive in the three-point stance, one fist firmly planted on the pavement. Zero decided not to comment on that and flew down more carefully.
 
By the them that all three were on the ground, two uniformed CPD officers were approaching at a casual pace. One passed a bill to the other. “I thought sure Shade would be the one to show up first.” He said, possibly a bit louder than he intended.
 
Shade’s Apprentice took the flute from her lips and waved to them. “Afternoon, gentlemen. I hear you have another ‘strange one’ here. Is SI on it?”
 
“You’re early.” The taller of the two officers, the one who lost the bet, said. “Word hasn’t come down yet, the crime lab’s still taking evidence, and we’re stuck standing guard.” He coughed theatrically and tried not to look excited at who he saw behind her. “I didn’t expect you’d have guests either.”
 
“Oh.” Shade’s Apprentice sounded like she’d honestly forgotten. “Right; these are Facsimile and Zero. They’re here because there might be a cross-jurisdiction component of this investigation.”
 
The cops looked at one another, then the short one said, “We haven’t heard anything like that. You have information we don’t?”
 
Shade’s Apprentice looked affronted. “Do you honestly think either I, or my boss would obstruct justice?” When they vigorously shook their heads, she nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Because right now, it’s all theory and conjecture. Do you think the lab tech will let us have a look at the site of the attack?”
 
The shorter cop nodded. “Probably. They’re done in the shed and moved on to where the fight broke through the fence.”
 
“Fight?” Zero asked. “The person that was attacked was able to fight back?”
 
“And break down a fence?” added Facsimile. “I’ve been thrown through stuff a lot, and let me tell you, if he’s not dead from that, he’s got powers.”
 
The cops shared a look again, then the taller said, “Actually, the vic was found in the shed; lacerations, puncture wounds, a broken arm, maybe a concussion. We’re not sure what fought off the attacker.”
 
***
After some negotiations with the sunglasses-wearing head of the crime lab team, the three heroines were admitted into the shed with a warning not to touch anything. The wooden shed hadn’t weathered whatever happened that very well.
 
For one thing, the door was lying in the grass eight feet away from the entrance with the handle twisted like it had been in a car accident.
 
Inside was worse. There were small spattered of blood on the wall and on the floor, thankfully not enough to kill someone for the lack of it, but disconcerting all the same. The lab techs had sprayed a chemical sealant over it that encased it in a smooth, clear shell in case they needed to observe the scene again in its original state. Besides the blood, there were scratches; four and three fingered rents torn through the wood and in places, punched all the way to the outside.
 
The back wall had been completely demolished, as had the fence behind it, leading into the neighbors’ yard.
 
Facsimile paused to look at the claw marks. After a moment’s study, she shifted her hand into a huge paw, tipped with black claws, and held it up to one of them with four gouges evident. Then she moved it to one with three, frowned, and shifted her paw into a slimmer shape with only three claws. “Hmm.”
 
“What?” asked Shade’s Apprentice, who was more concerned about the hole in the wall.
 
“The claws are two different sizes. One’s like a tiger’s paw. The other’s like, well a hand with claws on: the thumb and pinky are two short to make a gouge when you swipe, see?” Facsimile slashed the air to demonstrate.
 
“Maybe the bigger ones are foot claws.” Zero suggested. She was crouching to look at the items strewn on the floor. Amid spilled grass seed, and lawn care implements, there were pieces of candy of all different kinds. Some had been half eaten, and in the case of one chocolate bar, whoever had done the eating hadn’t bothered with unwrapping it. There were also potatoes.
 
Facsimile shook her head. “No, I think one thing with claws jacked up another thing with claws in here.”
 
“Two of them now?” asked Shade’s Apprentice. “What were they fighting for? Territory? In the middle of Chicago?”
 
“None of it makes any sense.” Said Facsimile. “We thought one of these was Noah, but why would he be all the way out here, and why is there another monster?”
 
“Hey!” Came the voice of the leader of the crime lab team. “That’s tampering with evidence!”
 
Both Facsimile and Shade’s Apprentice turned to see Zero holding a potato, which she’d just cut the top off with a knife made of ice. “I’m sorry.” She said, “But I have to check.” Then she licked the cut spot.
 
“Have you lost your mind!?!” The other two heroines echoed one another.
 
Zero was in her own little world as she made a face at the taste. “I knew it was a funny looking potato—it’s a sugar beet!”
 
“And that justifies disturbing a crime scene how?” Shade’s Apprentice was livid.
 
“t proves this wasn’t Noah.” said Zero. “In his monster mode, he’s still human, just a little loopy. He wouldn’t go around eating raw sugar beets.”
 
Facsimile grinned at her. “I think I’m getting it now.” She shifted her nose to pick up scents and was instantly rewarded with the faint scent of Tillie like she’d smelled at the museum; definitely from Noah, thanks to his proximity to her. She smelled a stressed, overwhelmingly male scent that had to be Noah, and the victim, along with his fear and pain. Above it all, she smelled a cloyingly sweet, alien smell that mixed with something human. Not only that, but it was virtually marinated in expensive cigar smoke and cordite. Not only that but…
 
“Um, guys?” She said quietly. “Whoever and whatever this thing is, it didn’t go far.”

About Vaal

Landon Porter is the author of The Descendants and Rune Breaker. Follow him on Twitter @ParadoxOmni or sign up for his newsletter. You can also purchase his books from all major platforms from the bookstore
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