Home, page 24
part #38 of Out of the Box Series Series
“You know what happens when you assume,” O'Rourke muttered beneath her breath, drawing a daggered look from Mann.
“Do we have any idea where she's gone?” Shipley asked, finally tearing her eyes off the explosion, which was playing on a loop. “Who took this video, anyway?” It was pretty far away and had the graininess of being greatly zoomed.
“Our officers on the scene,” Mann said.
“How did she spot them from this far off?” Shipley peered at the screen. The video seemed like it was from a mile down the road or so.
“She may have just been covering her tracks preemptively,” Mann said, finally pulling the tablet away and tucking it, almost defensively, under her arm. “Either way, she's not there anymore.”
“I suppose,” Shipley said, frowning. “Where's Mr. Hampton and his team?”
“Still on his way there,” Mann said. “You want us to call him back?”
Shipley hesitated. This was the danger around Sienna Nealon; she was so mercurial, unpredictable...
Dangerous.
Who knew what she'd get up to next?
Chapter One Hundred Nine
Sienna
“I give up,” I said once Hermes and I were safely beached upon the far western edge of Lake Wayzata. I'd drained the water out of our clothes, leaving us nice and dry if still a bit chilled. Now we sat on a stretch of snowy beach, staring into the cold and forbidding black water of the lake.
“Like the Athenian generals after Arginusae,” Hermes said, the mist rising from between his lips with each exhale, “no good deed goes unpunished.”
I grunted, dragging the water out of my ragged clothing. “Dude. It's been 2,000 years. You need to pick up some modern references.”
“Fair,” Hermes said. “Anyway...yeah. Don't blame you a bit on giving up. Seems the sensible course to me.”
“Maybe I already saved the day?” I asked. “I mean, downtown is still there. The capitol is still standing, right? The airport is...well...”
“It's not obliterated,” Hermes said helpfully. “Might need a little remodel, but ya know...they probably got off light.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I've given up my nice, comfortable life for these people.” I saw my breath mist now. “That's enough, isn't it?”
“You know...you could go back and change things again,” Hermes said. “Maybe hide your involvement in all this?”
I could feel the pull of tiredness, the desire for sleep. I'd slept for six hours or so in those moments when Akiyama had allowed me to while he'd held the march of time off, allowing me to get the suppressant out of my system, but the sting of the bullet wounds in my shoulder and side were still there, though hardly as powerful as they had been before. I lifted my shirt and checked the one in my flank and found a pinprick of blood there; the wound was the size of a pencil tip, the skin around it pink and new.
All that healing came with a cost. So did the drinking, and the six hours of sleep in the last thirty-six or so.
I was tired.
But not just in the body.
I was tired in my soul.
“I don't think I could get my guy to do that,” I said, looking into the sky, half expecting a drone strike to be incoming any second. “And I don't really have it in me to try and engineer that sort of cover up.”
“Yeah, I mean it's only your life on the line,” Hermes said with a half-smile, “why worry, right?”
I chuckled. The only humor I had today was black humor. “I think the damage is done. I'm just going to have to live with my decisions...like always. Because this toothpaste is not going back in the tube.”
“Well,” Hermes said, and lifted his wrist. A very shiny gold Rolex was on it, and I did not want to ask where he'd gotten it, because I suspected I already knew. Whatever; it would have been blown up with the house anyway, I suppose. “Think I better head on out of town.” He showed me the face; it was just after one o'clock.
“Yeah,” I said, and felt the decision made. “I better get my guy and get out, too.” I got to my feet, and the snow flaked off where it had crusted on my pants with a wave of my hand. “Just in case.”
“You can't save 'em all, you know?” Hermes said. “It's like when someone's drowning. If you're not careful, they'll pull you down with them.”
I nodded slowly. “Well...I don't want to drown anymore. Not for Minnesota.”
“Sensible,” he said. “See you down the road. Maybe we'll get drinks again in a hundred years or so.” And with a little wave, he was gone.
I turned to the east. The sky had grown cloudy and gray once more, and I sighed. I could have laid down and gone to sleep right here in the snow.
But I couldn't.
I lifted off the ground and steadied myself. I'd make a speed run into downtown Minneapolis at supersonic velocity and snag Akiyama. From there, we'd head south, or north, or any direction at all really – probably east – to get the hell out of town. Grab a night of sleep somewhere in Wisconsin, under the cover of trees and night.
And tomorrow, my life on the run would begin anew.
...Yay.
Chapter One Hundred Ten
Oberheuser
He'd hit traffic just down the street from the barbershop, and had been stuck in it ever since. Now Klaus Oberheuser found himself on Interstate 94, moving barely at all, and listening to the honk of horns through his windows, breath misting in the stolen car, listening to the radio explain why everyone was trying to get out of town just now.
“...and it's a parking lot on 94 east and westbound, 494 and 694,” the DJ said with a little too much pep for Oberheuser's taste. “People are taking this Sienna Nealon thing very seriously and running for the border – of Wisconsin! That's right, 94 eastbound into Hudson is a parking lot. I guess people are wanting to get good and clear of whatever's going on in the Cities today.”
“That's right, Todd,” the other host said. “I just texted with my parents and they are heading for their cabin up north. Sure, they shut it down for winter, but turning the water and power back on beats the hell out of being stuck here for God knows what if Sienna Nealon is in town.”
“I hear that,” Todd said. Oberheuser frowned at the radio as another cavalcade of honks sounded outside his window. “Whether she's beating those prison escapees or just causing trouble herself, I just have a bad feeling about today, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean. I've had a sick feeling in my stomach since this morning.”
Oberheuser's frown increased, the wrinkles plucking at the corners of his eyes. Had he not had that feeling as well? Churning in the pit of his stomach, prickling at his skin, making stand at attention the hairs on the back of his neck?
“Whoa!” Todd cut into his thoughts. “We just got a report from cameras in downtown Minneapolis that Sienna Nealon rocketed through heading east.”
Oberheuser perked up at that; he heard the rattle in his car windows, and turned his head to look to downtown, which was ahead–
And there she was.
Cutting through the sky at high speed, she seemed to drift to a stop, a dozen helicopters buzzing across the skyline behind her, trying to angle in her direction. But she cut out of her speed run like a ship dropping out of warp on Star Trek, sliding up to that curious tower with the pointed roof just a few hundred meters out his passenger window. She disappeared into the archways that circled its crown, slipping into the darkness and out of sight.
Oberheuser felt a tingle as a smile cracked across his face, and with a honk of his horn, he cranked the wheel and maneuvered his car onto the shoulder, keeping one eye on that tower.
An exit was only a hundred feet ahead, and he felt himself grow excited. This was the closest he'd been to her all day. He honked his horn again, knowing that he would have to hurry if he was going to beat the helicopters to her.
Chapter One Hundred Eleven
Sienna
“Time to go,” I announced the moment I popped into the Witch's Tower. It was cold in here, the bitter winds coming through in great gusts.
Akiyama was sitting as still as death in the center of the tower's stone floor, and until I was only a few feet away, I wasn't even sure he was alive. But he stirred as I came close, and opened his eyes, his face drawn tight and eyes like those of a man who was fighting sleep with everything he had and losing. “Hm?”
“We're leaving,” I said, motioning him to stand. The whip of chopper blades behind me suggested that all manner of trouble was headed this way. I'd blasted past downtown at a high clip, but even so I'd seen the military helicopters circling, ready to spring if they saw me.
Well...now they were preparing to spring.
He looked up at me. “You have finished?”
I hesitated. “I'm finished, all right,” I said.
He angled his head. “Then you have stopped the destruction?”
I wanted to check my watch or my phone for the time, but I didn't have either. “I think so, yeah. We need to get out of here, though.” Turning my head, I could see a bevy of helicopters heading for us. Did they know exactly where I was? Maybe not, but they'd swarm the area and make it harder for us to get out. “Like, now.”
Akiyama put a hand down and tried to push himself upright. He failed, and collapsed back into a sitting position. It was a pitiful effort, and so slow, it reminded me of a senior citizen trying to get up without a cane. Once he fell back, he sat there for a moment, dazed, as though he had no idea what had happened and no recollection of how he'd gotten there.
I was torn between letting him as a grown-ass man help himself up and wanting to get the hell out of town. So I stood back, bit my tongue, crossed my arms in front of me and let him try again, even though it was like watching a dog try and hump a leg, but fall off every attempt.
Chapter One Hundred Twelve
Oberheuser
The tower was at Prospect Park, Oberheuser had found out by following the roads, his eye ever upon the conical tower on the horizon. He skidded his vehicle to a stop in the parking lot and leapt out, running hard under snow-covered trees, feet crunching with every step until he reached the base of it.
He circled the base at a run until he found the door. Pushing in, Oberheuser sprinted up every step, his metahuman strength and speed carrying him closer and closer with every step to a confrontation he'd been dreaming about ever since she'd killed Sovereign – and all Oberheuser's dreams of a better world with him.
Chapter One Hundred Thirteen
Sienna
“Come on, Shin'ichi,” I muttered as he caught himself after another spill. Now he'd at least progressed to being on one knee, kneeling as I waited for him to get upright so we could get moving.
The steady whip of the choppers were drawing closer, and finally, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. With a couple of sweeping steps, I made it over to him, seized him by the wrist, taking care to ensure that his sleeve protected him from my touch, and hauled him to his feet. “We've got to go,” I said, when he looked at me with umbrage mingled with fatigue. “Sorry, we just can't wait any l–”
Spiking pain in my side and shoulder caused me to scream and fall as a sudden, brutal chill rushed in across my flesh. I hit the ground hard, Akiyama dragged down with me, as something seemed to be screaming in the air all around me.
A face swam into view in my peripheral vision, bald, oddly misshapen, looking around him as the world seemed to shriek.
The sun died and darkness rose, all light fading from my view as I realized at last what was happening.
Otto Klaus Oberheuser – the leech type metahuman – had somehow followed me back here to Akiyama.
His appearance had instantly sapped our powers – Akiyama's and mine – causing my meta hardiness to be drained away, allowing my wounds to scream across every nerve in my body–
And Akiyama's–
The sun was gone, because it had gone down, his hold on time ripped away by Oberheuser's arrival.
And night reigned outside, broken only by the strange, orange glow of what I imagined were fires, out of control burning–
Because the day of December 22nd was over.
And I'd failed.
And Minneapolis and St. Paul...
...had died again.
Chapter One Hundred Fourteen
Oberheuser
Prospect Park Water Tower
December 23rd
1:06 A.M.
His look of satisfaction had been complete when he'd watched Sienna Nealon keel over on the ground next to an Asian man. Here he had brought her low once more, and she clutched her side, rolling back and forth in obvious pain, her wounds laid bare by his power to drain the metahuman ability as surely as suppressant.
But then, the world had gone mad outside the arches and windows of the tower, the sun disappearing from the sky in a swift movement, as though dragged beyond the western horizon by a hook. And before it left, before even a moment had passed, a wailing shriek had risen up from below, from all around, and Oberheuser had blanched from the sound–
Then it was gone, as was the sun, and in the darkness that remained fires burned in every direction, their orange glow upon the horizon like the glow of city lights all in one uniform color.
He took a stumbling step forward in the sudden darkness, all the light of day leached away and orange glow all he had to go by. “What...what is this?” he asked in German.
The city of Minneapolis burned, towers aflame and the only light the glow from the fires.
Oberheuser stared out at the post-apocalyptic spectacle, horrified.
Until his leg was swept from beneath him, and he screamed, falling to the ground hard.
Chapter One Hundred Fifteen
Sienna
I was crying when I took Oberheuser's leg out from beneath him.
In my defense...I had good reason.
Crawling over to the edge of the tower archway, I saw the great sweep of Minneapolis laid bare before me, and it...
Was.
Burning.
Not the simple light of an out-of-control structure fire gone awry in Uptown. Not a garbage can aflame down on Nicollet Mall, either.
The entirety of the IDS tower was on fire from the tenth floor up, just burning wildly, with no sign of fire crews on sight, and additional dotted fires out of control all over the horizon, sweeping through neighborhoods and consuming them whole. The smell of toxic smoke was on the night air, and I knew it was one in the morning, the time that Akiyama and I had left to come back and redo the day.
And no...I hadn't won, hadn't driven off Scout and Drusilla, hadn't saved everything. All my cheap and easy denials were laid bare by the utter silence of anything but the fires. There was no light in the city but that of orange flames crackling hither and yon as the great unattended wasteland of Minneapolis and St. Paul burned, powerless and without a soul alive in its bounds.
Oberheuser cried out as he fell to the ground at the edge of the water tower's archway railing. I'd hit him in the back of the knee with all the human strength I had, magnified by my killing rage, and it had dropped him. Down on his knees, I plowed a fist into the base of his skull and he slumped.
I broke three knuckles and felt them scream at me, hurting more than the gunshot in my shoulder and side.
I didn't care. I punched him in the back of the head again and felt him go down, plowing face first into the stone as his arms gave up his weight.
My hand was broken and screaming from the bone against contact, and I fell over, crying and clutching it tight to my chest.
“Sienna,” Akiyama said, barely a whisper. He was slumped against the ground, his eyes fluttering, a tone of accusation infusing his words.
I didn't dare look him in the eye.
Instead I watched the city burn until the tears blurred all the fires into spots of orange light, and somewhere in my vigil the fatigue caught up to me and I fell asleep crying.
Chapter One Hundred Sixteen
Sienna
December 23rd
8:32 A.M.
I woke to the dull light of day streaming through black clouds clotting the horizon in all directions, fed by the smoke rising from all the fires.
When I lifted my head, I could smell the death. It wasn't just fire on the wind, it was the smell of early rot, of millions of corpses reaching that first stage of decomposition.
A monument in five senses to all my failures.
Looking to my side, I saw Oberheuser lying there, slumped where I'd left him. A trickle of blood ran down his neck, and as I lifted my head, I could feel my weakness. I squeezed my uninjured hand into a fist and I wondered if I'd even have the strength to choke a man, let alone crush his larynx.
It was time to find out.
Threading my arm around Oberheuser's neck, I positioned myself on his back, taking care not to tighten my death grip until I was ready. I wrapped my left hand around my right wrist, grimacing because the bones of my right hand were still shattered. Bracing myself, I slowly lowered myself onto Oberheuser's back and locked in the choke hold, my wrist against his throat.
He reared to life, lifting off the ground and taking me with him like a panicked horse. It wasn't as though he didn't feel my weight on his back, more like he was so crazed he ignored it as he thrashed to his feet.
This son of a bitch had ruined everything. Had dragged me back to this post-apocalyptic future, rubbed my nose in my failure.
Akiyama stirred a few feet away. Still pale and wan, I caught sight of him looking at us, perplexed, as Oberheuser spun around, trying desperately to buck me off.
