5.54
“Argh!” Boojum stumbled forward but didn’t drop. Deen looked surprised he wasn’t knocked down. Boojum twisted back at her. “What the fu—?”
I grabbed his right wrist.
Deen caught his other hand and pulled his arm out. “Take back what you said about Erind!” She punched his nose. It wasn’t strong enough. She might be unconsciously hesitating.
Boojum tried to pull free; we held onto him, keeping his palms facing away. He struggled in vain to touch us. I bent his hand back until his wrist broke. Deen’s hits stifled his screams.
“Erind has been through so much!” Deen shouted as Boojum’s face became flatter with each swing. Flecks of blood flew. “Don’t you dare blame her!”
I’m surprised it’s not my fault this time, I thought, trying not to giggle at Deen’s reaction.
Her Guardian Angel had probably told her to nod at me, signaling to play along Boojum’s misconception that I was the reason the Tea Party gatecrashed the Tech Fair. He wasn’t thinking right with his friend dead, and the Guardian Angel took advantage of that to make him lash out at me.
And that ticked off Deen.
At this point, it was hard to tell who was the pet between the invisible bastard and Deen.
I twisted Boojum’s right arm behind his back. Deen’s punches continued like a jackhammer. Her face was twisted in a fury; this was the angriest I had ever seen her. Boojum got heavier, and he sagged to the floor. Was he knocked out or just pretending?
Boojum’s head limply rattled around like an arcade joystick as the punches came. His head almost hit me as it snapped back after one particularly powerful blow. His neck was super fucked up.
“Deen, stop!” I pulled Boojum a step back. Her strike whiffed.
“Erind, we can’t let him live! He knows that—”
“I don’t want you to be burdened by this.”
“Burdened?”
I released Boojum’s hand. It limply swayed. He was down for the count but still breathing. I held his head like it was a basketball.
Deen’s eyes widened as she realized what I was about to do. She reached out but stopped before she touched my arms. She sharply drew her breath as I began to squeeze Boojum’s head. A curious puzzled expression flitted her face.
Hang on, why am I squeezing? I’d just get myself dirty. Dirtier.
I rotated Boojum’s head to face me. His body tried to follow, but Deen held onto his left hand. Then she grabbed his shoulders and held him in place.
Boojum’s face lost its human features; his mother wouldn’t recognize him. Deen was so messed up for doing this to him. I continued to rotate his head full three-sixty degrees. Bones cracked, skin tore, and streams of blood spurted.
He was dead, right? How about one more round? That should do it.
Add in a half-turn so Deen wouldn’t see Boojum’s face she had ruined. I’m so considerate.
Deen and I looked at each other over Boojum’s shoulder.
With no word passed between us, we let go of him at the same time.
He dropped with a thud. His head rolled away, trailing blood across the floor. I must’ve rotated it too much that his neck—skin, muscles, bone, and all that—got torn off.
Deen yelped, doing a tiny dance to avoid the head.
Best friends murder tandem, was what I wanted to say aloud. For some inexplicable reason, I was proud of Deen for helping me kill someone. Second time now, is it?
But I held my tongue, distracting myself by calculating how many degrees I turned Boojum’s head. Seven-twenty? No. One-eighty more, so nine hundred degrees in total.
Killing Boojum myself made me appear selfless, wanting to spare my friend the guilt of murdering someone. Though pretty cool and badass, it might be more fitting for a brooding character. Usually, the guy with a dark past and grey morals would do this in movies.
Anyway, I could play this up for a trauma schtick in the future.
“I…” Deen exhaled long. “At least it was quick.”
“It had to be done,” I grimly said, nudging Boojum’s headless body with my foot. He was now with Snark if there was really an afterlife, which there very well might be, considering the existence of Adumbrae.
That left Imani. And maybe Jubjub, if Imani had told her about me. If they got the word to the mysterious Professor that I wasn’t a normal human, my problem would get disastrously big. That was for future Erind to deal with—after kicking so much ass, I didn’t want to puzzle about other stuff. I have plenty on my plate right now.
“We had no choice,” I said. “We couldn’t let him tell others I’m Red Hood. I don’t think he’ll keep quiet no matter what story we tell him.”
“Yeah… But I was going to—"
“It had to be me; it was for my protection. I’m not going to pass others my responsibility.” That line sounded pretty cool.
“I hope you’re not going to do the same to me.” Vanessa walked up to us. She kicked Boojum’s head to the side as she passed it.
Despite trying to appear nonchalant, her wavering voice and pale lips, colored red by the blazing fire around us, betrayed her fear. There was hesitation in her gait, like she’d instantly bolt if we lunged at her. She massaged her right arm; she hadn’t reattached the metal bands covering it.
What was the purpose of those? A fashion thing?
“I thought this guy was with you?” Vanessa cocked her head at Boojum’s corpse.
Whoops, Vanessa saw me betraying someone. Did it bring up bad memories? If anything, I gave her a quick death. Almost death. Though I’d imagine regenerating her toasted body wasn’t a pleasant experience.
That was on her for not actually dying back then.
“They’ll become my enemies if they know I’m an Adumbrae,” I explained. “He didn’t realize it yet, but he’ll eventually figure out I’m not one of them.”
“I thought you were saving—never mind.” Vanessa gave Deen a sidelong glance.
My best friend was looking at my other friend—I did consider Vanessa a friend—with her right brow raised as high as it could go.
“We’ve fought together,” Vanessa went on, “but we haven’t had a proper introduction.”
Flames crept over the rest of the piles of crap stacked toward the back of the cavern. We weren’t in danger, but it was getting hotter, and the smoke tickled my nose. This might not be the best place for a serious chat, but I wanted this over with before moving on.
“Deen, this is Vanessa. Vanessa Minnows,” I said. Maybe Deen knew her through rich social circles. “She’s related to the mayor of La Esperanza. Like a niece or something, right?”
“The former mayor,” Vanessa clarified. “I’m his niece, yeah.”
“You’re from our city, not Vegas?” Deen asked. “Are you with the 2Ms? Not the Tea Party?”
“Too-ems? What’s that?”
“Marc and Big Marcy,” I explained. “Two M’s. You’re right, Deen. Vanessa’s an artificial Adumbrae and a customer of the 2Ms. I met her back at the Eve club the night we infiltrated the place. Um, not exactly—we met after the explosion, so Eve and the arena beneath it were already destroyed. I had returned to my human body—erm, you get what I mean—and was running lost in the tunnels when I ran into her group.”
I gave Deen a vaguely truthful summary of how I pretended to be one of the 2Ms’ clients and went with Vanessa’s group. Then we got hunted by BID drones.
“We were separated while running from the Skitters,” I said, meeting Vanessa’s eye. “I don’t know what happened to Vanessa after that. I thought she… died.”
Vanessa blinked fast. Her left cheek twitched. I was ready to interrupt her if she spoke wrong.
“We, uh, I was able to escape,” Vanessa said in a raspy voice. Her eyes were watery from the smoke or remembering her deceased friends. “Only me. The others… all the others got killed… by the BID.”
Vanessa was quick on the uptake that Deen had no idea of our barbeque session. But she wouldn’t be able to guess why I wanted to keep it a secret. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to look like a complete psycho in the habit of executing people and roasting their corpses—that was only a minor part of it.
This was mainly for Vanessa’s safety.
If Deen knew I tried to kill Vanessa, Deen would assume to the absolute max that Vanessa was back for revenge. Hell, I was also thinking of that. Deen could get pretty unpredictable when it came to protecting me—both a good and bad thing.
I brought Vanessa’s story to the present. “Vanessa and I met each other again when I got teleported here,” I said. “She helped me escape my prison. She’s on our side.” I turned to Vanessa. “Right?”
“I don’t really care about this or that side,” Vanessa said. “I promised to protect you. I did that when we escaped Eve, and I do it now. That’s all.”
Dammit! A simple ‘yes’ would’ve been enough. Vanessa didn’t want Deen to know about recruiting me to help Big Marcy, and I agree with that, but this protecting me talk would trigger Deen’s pesky side.
“You two haven’t met each other—” Deen pointed at me then at Vanessa “—since escaping from Eve?”
“No…” It was true, not counting Vanessa’s peeping familiars.
“And Vanessa got these eyeballs that can freely move around?”
I inclined my head at Vanessa.
She nodded. “I call them eye familiars.” As a mini-demonstration, a couple of the eyeballs lodging in her left arm revealed themselves. Deen flinched at the sight. The lids shut, and Vanessa’s skin smoothened.
“When Pino and I passed through the portal door,” Deen said, “an eyeball led us on a safe path through this base. That should be before Vanessa met you, Erind. You got teleported later.” Deen put her hands on her waist and snapped at Vanessa. “How did you know to help us? How did you know we were with Erind?”
“I was observing you through—”
“How long have you been surveilling us? Do you know where Erind’s condo is in La Esperanza? Did you lead—”
“I didn’t!” Vanessa protested. “I can never do that to Erind. I learned about Stella and her group attacking Erind’s condo long after it happened.”
“Deen, calm down,” I said. Funny that she had the same thoughts as I did about Vanessa. I could definitely count on Deen if I’d ever need to lessen my circle of friends. “If Vanessa’s our enemy, she wouldn’t have helped us during the fight.”
“I also convinced March Hare to use the Auron field device,” Vanessa said. “That box with a brain on it? It was an advantage that no one could use any ability because you, Erind, are physically the strongest among all of us. March Hare’s power could’ve collapsed this cavern, but he’s too proud to turn off the Auron field until he was already losing.”
Nice one, Vanessa. That was a big plus point for her.
“Because of it,” I said. “I managed to kill the man who makes those weird ceramic puppets. The man who baited me to go through the—Vanessa! Have you seen my mom?”
“Your mother? She—”
I held Vanessa’s upper arms and pulled her to the side so I’d be facing her, and my back was toward Deen. I widened my eyes into saucers as I glared up at Vanessa.
“Have you seen my mom?” I repeated, stressing each word. “The man with the puppets told me she’s here. Do you know what she looks like? How long have your eyeballs been following us?”
“I don’t know what she looks like,” Vanessa said. “I spotted you with my eye familiars only after the Tea Party attacked the Tech Fair. Were you with your mom at that time?”
Another good answer. But before I could continue my skit, Deen cut in.
“Erind’s mother was on stage.” Deen came closer. I kept my face turned away from her. Of course, Deen would be interested in this. She promised to save Mom and made zero progress on that front. “She’s not hard to miss in a crowd. She’s very tall, has white hair, aug-eyes—”
“I’ve seen her,” Vanessa said. She described Mom’s clothes.
“That’s her!” Deen exclaimed. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“Yes. I’ve saved her.”
“Where is she?” Deen asked again.
Vanessa looked at me.
I squeezed her arms, hoping the mouth familiars wouldn’t wake up and bite me.
Vanessa explained, “I freed a few prisoners and teleported them somewhere near the Greaves convention center in Vegas. Actually, I led them with my eye familiars, the same as I did with you, to the correct doors. Don’t worry. They’re in a different building and a bit far from the attack site. They should be safe, including Erind’s mom. I didn’t know she was—”
“Teleport with the portal door?” Deen interjected. “How? I thought that was the power of that jerk with the fake people. Why would he help you?”
“You mean Finlay? The door is not his power. It’s someone else’s. I bribed that guy to help me save some people.”
“It’s really lucky that Mom’s one of them,” I said. “Thank you for saving her, Vanessa.”
“If only I saved more,” Vanessa said. She shot me a puzzled look, probably wondering what was with all the secrecy and fake stories.
“By the way, did you see where Pino went?” I asked, giving Vanessa the same piercing stare. "She was with Deen when... " I trailed my words, looking expectantly at Deen. She obliged, describing Pino's appearance.
The wrinkles on Vanessa's forehead disappeared, and her eyes brightened. I could almost hear the ding of the lightbulb in her head.
“The metal woman?” Vanessa said, her eyes flicking between Deen and me. “So, her name is Pino? I don't know where she is. When I went to free you, I lost track of her during the commotion.”
Fortunately, Vanessa understood that I was pretending not to know about Mom because I was hiding from Deen that I was Pino.
“Pino can take care of herself,” Deen said. “Her body’s almost indestructible. We should worry about ourselves and how to get out of here.”
Glad that Deen had gotten off Vanessa’s back, even if begrudgingly.
“Vanessa, where is here, exactly?” I asked, releasing my grip on her arm. The red marks of my grip on her skin were fading. “Are we still in the US?”
“We’re in an abandoned mine in the Nevada desert,” she answered.
Deen and I breathed sighs of relief.
I snapped my fingers. “I knew it. Hell is under Nevada!”
That got a chuckle out of my friends.
“It does look like hell,” Deen said, looking around.
The flames grew taller, scorching the cavern walls, but weren’t spreading toward us because there was nothing flammable nearby. It reminded me of a brick oven with a fire on one side. The heat was becoming unbearable. My sweat seeped through what was left of my shirt and made my skin stick to my tarp cape.
“Let’s go,” I said, jogging to the elevator while adjusting my covering into a wraparound shawl. “Does the elevator work?”
“Black Spade fried the system during our escape,” said Vanessa, punching the keypad beside the door. It didn’t do anything. “But we can climb up here. Your not-so-friend got the right idea. Our only obstacle is the platform of this elevator which acts like the door of the shaft exit. We can bust through it.”
“Is the exit rigged with explosives?” Deen bitchily asked. It was subtle, but there was an edge to her tone. She didn’t bother to mask her narrowed eyes glaring at Vanessa.
“I’m going to climb up with you,” Vanessa indirectly answered what Deen implied. “The Tea Party guys were supposed to use the platform to carry Erind’s body if she had transformed into a giant werewolf. Or parts of her.”
“You were going to cut Erind up?”
“March Hare’s plan, not mine,” Vanessa testily told Deen. “He expected to win when we came here. This is also supposed to be an alternative escape route in case we get stranded.”
“Erind destroyed the doors you could use,” Deen noted. “I assume it has to be like a normal door for the teleportation to work?”
“That’s right. Furthermore, we weren’t sure if the old man who controls the doors was truly on our side.” Vanessa glanced at me before staring up at the metal structure. “But that’s a topic for when we get out.”
“Are there guards up there?” I wondered.
“Just normal guys with guns,” said Vanessa. “The three of us can easily handle them. We’ll steal a vehicle and maybe a map to figure out where we are in the expansive Nevadan wilderness.” She did a little bow at Deen, gesturing at the elevator shaft. “You go first. I’m just waiting for my eye familiars to return to me. I spread a few of them around the base. If you don’t trust me, we can wait for them, and I’ll climb—”
Vanessa winced. A red line appeared on her left arm. It thickened, and blood dripped down.
“Someone killed my familiars,” she hissed, looking around.
Deen and I faced out, peering into the roaring fire. Why was Deen’s Guardian Angel not warning us? Was Vanessa mistaken? Maybe her eyeball pet got squished by a random falling rock.
It turned out we might have an enemy.
A large form, about the size of a car, walked through the flames. It was hard to make out what it was, but it had legs. And was that a head? With horns, it looked like.
An amplified woman’s voice blared, “Erind Hartwell, you cheeky brat! You always gave your mother a headache when you were a kid. Do you remember me, your Auntie Dora?”