Project Northwoods (67 page)

Her hands felt awkward, her right weighted down and her left holding something in front of her face, her finger trembling over a small piece of it. The taste of metal flashed brighter than before and she gagged, spitting out whatever it was. The thing fell away, pulling her left hand down before she released her grip on it. She shook violently as the item clunked against the ground.

She heaved several lungsful of air, stopping only when she realized that she was on her hands and knees in blood. She looked up and nearly screamed. The bodies of three Enforcers and two uniformed but unidentifiable heroes were sprawled, nearly on top of each other. Each had a single gunshot wound to the head, the faces slack and unsurprised at their condition.

The weight in her right hand made her look down at the pistol gripped tightly in her fingers. “Shit,” she said, releasing the gun. She turned to see a fourth Enforcer sprawled on the floor, his weapon hand firmly wrapped around his gun, glassy eyes staring up at nothing in particular.

She found herself staring at the gun despite all the carnage.

The metal taste…

The gun glimmered faintly with her saliva on the floor as a new wave of nausea washed over her. The Enforcer was dead, yet he apparently managed to get the gun in her mouth. It was a ridiculous proposition, unless…

I put it there.

I put it there, and I woke myself up in order to not squeeze the trigger
.

What. The. Fuck?

It didn’t make sense… after all she had been through… nothing would make her want to kill herself… let alone make it seem like someone had done the job for her. Nothing added up.

“Get your hands in the air, now!” a woman yelled, forceful enough to make Talia stand and spin toward the sound. She instinctively brought her hands up to show she was unarmed. Her green eyes flicked from the barrel of a high-caliber revolver to the silhouette of the young woman holding it. She was tinier than someone holding such a big gun should be, tired eyes straining to keep focused. From what Talia could tell, the heroine was dressed like a riverboat captain… or maybe a cowgirl.

“I assure you…” Talia began.

“Shut up!” The shadow shifted back and forth, her eyes scanning the Enforcers. “How did you kill them all?” She cocked the gun. “Answer me!”

“I don’t know! I couldn’t have!” Talia didn’t know what to say or do. All the options pretty much led to her getting shot. “I was being interrogated in the Heroes’ Guild, then I was here. You have to believe me!”

“Believe a villain?” The younger woman stepped into the light as she started to circle Talia. The villain cautiously studied the gunwoman’s features; there was something about her that was very familiar, but Talia couldn’t place it. “After what Zombress did to my father? After the attack on the Fort?” Her face turned into a snarl, terrifying on her pretty features. “I can’t believe Arbiter was right about all of you!”

Talia didn’t really pay attention to the last part. “Your father?” she muttered. “Julia Lovelass?”

The words seemed to shock her. “How do you…”

“I’m a friend of your brother’s.” Talia remained motionless through the subsequent pause. “Arthur.” She felt stupid for clarifying, but the hero didn’t seem fazed by the mention of her sibling.

Julia blinked. “Arthur doesn’t have friends.”

Talia’s heart sunk. “You don’t care that he’s alive?”

“Of course I do!” she snapped, gesturing with the gun. “He’s not a registered villain. He’s probably trying to find someone other than Tim to leech off of.” She noticeably tensed at the mention of Tim.

Talia tried to take advantage of the opening. “Were you and Timothy close?”

“Eat me.” The words were childish, more an impulsive reaction to schoolyard bullying than anything else.

Talia shook her head. “Arthur masterminded last night.”

“What?” Julia lowered the gun slightly. “Why?”

“Why do you think?” She grinned sadistically. “Heroes clean out the villain sector, taking everything he’s ever known. And he’s one of the few left behind.” She shrugged. “Injustice doesn’t just happen to heroes.”

Julia stared at her, unmoving. “You’ve gone rogue, you know that, Talia?”

She nodded. “It would appear that way.”

“I’m supposed to shoot you on sight.”

“What’s stopping you?” The air between them was heavy. They stood, each eyeing the other with uncertainty.

Julia’s gaze suddenly flicked to the corpses. “The bodies don’t make sense. You couldn’t have done this on your own. Who helped you?”

Talia rolled her eyes. “I don’t know.” Julia brought her right hand up to her ear. This made the other woman panic. “No! I can’t be taken back!”

“Why?”

A pause as Talia collected her thoughts. “Arbiter… Archetype… they’ll try to kill me.”

“Just come in peacefully.”

“You don’t understand…”

“Relax…”

Talia took a step forward, making Julia tense up. “There’s something wrong here, don’t you see it?”

“I agree, but there needs to be…”

“An investigation will only side with the heroes!”

“Calm down!”

Talia was growing more agitated. “And think about Arthur!”

Julia almost smirked in annoyance. “What about him?”

“What do you think they’ll do to him once they know what he’s done?”

“He’s on the wrong side of the law.” Julia’s tone was slow, deliberate – probably as much to convince herself as it was to convince Talia.

“Fine!” The shout echoed loudly. “If what you’re doing is so just, pull the trigger.” Talia took a dangerous step forward, closing the gap between them. “Look in my eyes, and pull. The. Trigger.”

Julia glared at her, silently. For a moment, it seemed like she was going to consider not calling anything in. Then, gun still trained on Talia, Julia activated her earpiece. “Gunslinger responding to shots fired at VWN Building…”

“No!” Talia shouted, sprinting toward the younger girl. She body-slammed into Julia, throwing them both on the ground. The gun skittered away while Talia quickly tried to get up. Julia snagged her leg as she ran, sending the reporter to the floor. Talia rolled onto her back, brandishing the revolver, as Julia pulled her other gun from its holster and fired.

With a loud pop, Talia felt her hands grow lax. She was dimly aware of pain… in her stomach… but she couldn’t be sure. The second she heard the gun go off, she had tensed up… maybe the bullet aged too much to hit her, her reflexes working overtime to protect her organs… but when she started to convulse, she realized some small part of shrapnel must have ripped into her. Now, she was more than dimly aware of the pain.

It was her whole world, whiting out her vision in brilliant strokes.

Julia was stunned, horrified by what had happened. Nothing made sense anymore. Things weren’t adding up. Her father, the Fort, Claymore, Arbiter, Zombress, Arthur… and to top it all off, she had just shot someone. Yes, it was kill-or-be-killed…
damn it… damn it!
No matter what her higher self may have wanted, her lizard brain – honed by training – demanded her attacker die… and that’s the one her ability chose to listen to.

She scrambled upright and half-crawled to Talia. The hole in her belly was bad, gushing, and there was nothing else to it. Julia could have done nothing. She could have watched Talia leave, or she could have fired from the holster just to startle her, or she could have shot a round off and directed it into the path of the one Talia
may
have shot at her. So many non-lethal ways to handle it.

It was an accident. A fucking accident!

A woman’s going to die because of me. Unless…

Unless what? I stroll into a neutral hospital with a gunshot wound recipient with all my armaments dangling off me?

Julia reached for Talia’s face and cupped it, making her look up. “Talia, please… don’t die.” It was a useless gesture, completely unnoticed. Her hand went to the wounded woman and tightened around the warm but slack digits. Talia’s eyes rolled backward, then flicked to her. “Please, just…” Julia shifted Talia and heard something heavy clatter to the floor, the sound making her panic as though she had heard someone’s approach. Her eyes went to the floor. A necklace, heavy with a blood red gemstone, stared up at her. It was surreal – no, beyond surreal. It was impossible. She picked it up, unable to process the sight… it was her mother’s. Her mother’s necklace that her father had said he kept in a locked box in a bank.

“This is Overseer. Gunslinger, you have not completed your call.” Julia’s throat went painfully dry.

She hit her earpiece and immediately started to strip off her vest. She was smaller than Talia, which would make it the closest she could get to a bandage at the moment. “This is Gunslinger. Multiple losses at the VWN station, pursuing suspect on foot.”

“Acknowledged.” A chime sounded. “A squad of Enforcers is now en route to location: VWN Headquarters.”

Julia worked to put the tight vest on Talia as the villain gave another shudder. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

She had no idea why she was doing it.

Maybe it was Arthur.

Maybe it was guilt.

Maybe it was just needing to know how she got the necklace.

She just knew she had to get Talia out of there.

PIECES

ARTHUR BURST INTO THE SUBWAY TUNNELS,
hefting the backpack more comfortably onto his shoulder. He couldn’t leave Mollie behind, even if it meant that he’d eventually have to tell her what happened. She liked Tim… as much as an unfeeling computer could like someone, anyway. The prospect scared him, but not as much as the people still arguing about their future chances of survival.

The others could decide what to do without him. It was readily apparent that the more he tried to help, the worse everything became. What killed him the most was that all of this would have happened anyway. Even if he had never come up with the plan to assault the Fortress of Darkness, there would still have been that monument to his ambition to mock him, stuffed with his friends awaiting… whatever the heroes had planned.

The gravel crunched under his feet as he moved. He had no idea where he was going. His sense of direction had always been awful, but it felt better to move than to wait around in some abandoned train station. In any case, the further away he was from Ariana, the better.

Did she honestly think I enjoyed being the one to tell her? Or that I don’t already blame myself? Was there anything that got through her stupid, thick head?

“Arthur!” The Irish lilt echoed off the walls, and he grunted in response. Stair’s footsteps crunched softly but urgently toward him. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” he answered.

“But… you can’t leave.” She ran in front of him and stopped, staring up at him with her green eyes. “They need you.”

“No one needs me.” Arthur moved past her, not shoving her aside but brushing past her gently. “I’m no good for anyone.”

She didn’t move. “You’re good for me,” she said softly, a tremor shaking her voice. Spinning on her heel, she turned to face his retreating form. “I need you, Arthur.”

He stopped. “Everyone’s better off without me.”

“I lost my ma.” The tremor became a plea. “I lost my home. I lost my pa tonight, you stupid man.” She inhaled with a shudder before yelling. “I can’t lose you, too!”

Arthur didn’t want to look at her, but something compelled him to turn around. She looked so small and frail in the darkness, standing with her fists clenched. He scanned her face, tears welling up in her eyes as her chin quaked. Against his better judgment, he offered his hand.