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    Young Sage
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Chicago Wildlife - 18. What Are We, Some Kind Of...(Part 5)

When you see a "#", it means the POV has shifted.

Mega Chapter 14: What Are We, Some Kind Of... (Part 5)

Cid sat rigidly in the rightmost back seat as Fred drove them to Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Preferentially, he would opt for the left seat, directly behind Fred, but You had already claimed it before instructing them to enter the vehicle. This was undoubtedly a calculated move on You’s part, perhaps a favored fear tactic? The closer to strike at the vulnerable backside of Fred’s head, the better? Cid could only bank on his and You’s unfamiliarity with each other and play ignorant for now, allowing You to take the advantageous position in the car without resistance.

As they drew nearer to their destination, Cid’s anxiety only deepened. How long before their new acquaintance decided that the two of them were no longer useful and struck them down? Indubitably, either Cid or Fred could use their powers to murder You, but neither of them would be quick enough to stop You’s first kill, and neither of them were invulnerable to blades, even when powered up. Cid focused on not glancing at You every few seconds. It proved difficult.

“Knock knock knock, Cid? Knock knock knock, Cid? Knock knock knock, Cid?”

Cid’s eyes widened. He scanned to and fro, looking for Persephone. It was definitely her voice. Was the car bugged with a microphone?

“Now I know what chu’re thinkin’, but no. It’s much worse dan dat. Dose nanomachines I shoved into your cranium? Yeah, dey also allow me to broadcast myself to you like I was your own personal schizophrenic voice inside yo head. So sit tight as I regale you wit some warm words of comfort. Dat man sitting next to chu? He’s absolutely out to kill you. Now I wouldn’t set him ablaze just yet, honey. If he dies, chu all die! Just a little insurance policy I put in place to make sure you get da job done.”

‘But previously you stated that you didn’t care if all of us killed each other before the mission was accomplished,’ Cid thought to her. She summarily ignored him.

“And dat’s not all, flamer. I know you’re the big brain in dis group. You’ve probably got a profile on each of dese fine, upstandin’ gentlemen in yo head. Do any of dem sound like da type of he-man chu’d trust yo child to? I didn’t think so. Dey just want da cash reward.”

‘Cash reward?’ Cid thought.

“Oh, did I forget to mention dat? Some of dem needed a little extra incentive to participate, so I decided to drop five million buckaroos, to be split amongst all y’all, fo’ stopping Ditto Perfect. Of course, you get more of da pot da less people are alive. Even da retards in da group know dat. So in summation, everybody’s out to kill you, and you need to be ready to give dem all a fever dey ain’t ever gonna forget!”

Cid waited for further chatter, but found none. He was left to ponder to himself, though even that was disconcerting, given the new revelation that his mind was no longer a private area exclusive to himself. As threatening as Persephone was as a person, You’s actions at the docks proved that at least one of them was willing to kill the rest for the smallest of reasons. However, were they all like that, or was Persephone simply taking advantage of a golden opportunity? Either way, no one was capable of outsmarting Cid.

Cid continued to make glances at You. Some, however, were capable of outperforming him.

“Hey, I can see the hospital from here!” Fred exclaimed. “Alright, almost free!”

Did Fred even suspect? Cid doubted it. Though he knew better than anyone the surprising amount of intelligence Fred held, even Fred had limits when it came to detecting subterfuge.

“The climax draws near,” said You, not moving an inch.

#

Pierre kept an eye out for anything demonic and life-threatening as Robin sped towards Ann & Robert’s. No one disliked surprises more than he. He wished Robin would announce his sharp turns more quickly, however. Every moment Pierre’s sniping eye wasn’t firmly attached to the scope of his rifle was a moment where they were all blind, dumb, and defenseless. As the jittery driver mercifully called out another quick turn, Pierre hopelessly braced himself against the concept of gravity. Jacques, on the other hand, seemed surprised each and every time he was flung from one side of the car to the other. Pierre not having his seatbelt on made sense. He needed freedom of movement so that he could fire from any direction. Since all Jacques had was an empty gun in his hand, Pierre was bewildered that Jacques still hadn’t figured out how to put a seatbelt on. Persephone wanted someone like this on her kill squad?

Robin announced the appearance of the hospital on the horizon. They were getting close. It was only then, at the most inopportune of moments, that Pierre realized that he had no idea what Ditto Perfect really looked like. He had heard the name before, sure. But like with seemingly everyone else in this group, Ditto Perfect seemed to treasure his privacy. Pierre never recalled seeing Ditto Perfect’s mug in the papers, and since Pierre worked alone, he’d never met the guy in person either. So how was he expected to take down someone he knew nothing about? Perhaps one of the others knew.

He turned around to Jacques. If there’s one thing Ditto Perfect is known for, it’s saying his own name as a response to just about anything, often accompanying with a snap. So, Pierre moved his fingers to imitate a snap, while putting on an extremely derpy face. Jacques took it to mean that Pierre had an idea. Pierre knew he, again, had his work cut out for him. A quick glance at Robin showed that Robin was now paying attention as well.

Okay, what was Ditto Perfect’s power? Copying, right? Pierre first did the nametag gesture again. Jacques groaned his displeasure at doing involuntary charades again, but Pierre marched through. Robin at least had the good sense to respond with what Pierre was looking for: a name. Pierre then grabbed his crotch, hoping either one of them will guess that he was referring to men. As in, a man’s name. Jacques just derivatively asked if Pierre was demanding some fellatio right then and there. It didn’t look like Robin got the hint either. No doubt curling his hands into a Mars symbol wouldn’t do the trick as well. Pierre sighed in frustration. He tried signing Ditto Perfect’s name, but Robin quickly cut him off, saying that there wasn’t any use in trying to do that. Neither one of them knew the language.

Frustration was growing inside him when someone decided to chime in to add to his misery. It was the distinctly commanding voice of Persephone, and judging by how she addressed him by a derogatory moniker for French people, she wasn’t there to deliver good news. He instinctively scanned the tops of buildings as they drove by for signs of her, but she was quick to point out how stupid she would be to just give away her location to an armed assassin she currently had a leash on.

She explained curtly how the injection she gave him also acted as a one-way radio. She felt it necessary to include the fact that, even if the transmission worked both ways, it wasn’t like he was going to respond back to her. Persephone then proceeded to mockingly inform him that, out of “respect” for his “vow of silence,” she was going to keep her chat short. The bombshell revelation she dropped next wasn’t really a surprise to him: none of his new cohorts were saints. In fact, they were all just as likely to kill each other as they would any police officer or wet-behind-the-ears superhero. Persephone reminded him that he wasn’t exactly exempt from this list himself. Quite honestly, he was okay with that. But then she offered to make a deal with him…

…my God, they have Francesca! Were Jessica and August okay? How did she know about them? How did she know where they lived? Pierre had no time to think things through, as Persephone continued on with her threats. “Reassuring” as it was that Francesca was currently unharmed, her continued safety was, of course, entirely in the hands of Pierre, and his “willing” compliance with Persephone’s orders. After an empty compliment to his prior credentials as a hidden assassin, Persephone explained how her people wanted him to use those skills and take out not only Ditto Perfect and whoever was puppeteering him, but also every member of his newfound squad. Her justification was as childish as the tone it was spoken to him: they bad, they hidden, and her people need a scapegoat to kill them and take the fall, since arresting them would only result in them breaking out again. A simple black and white narrative, spoken by someone who watched too much Super Friends as a kid.

It was a lot to ask from one man. Seven different targets, all of whom he knew very little about, some of whom he had no idea what their powers were, all spread throughout the city, and his window of opportunity was rapidly drawing to a close. All he had was a gun and the power of silence.

Persephone echoed his concerns, reading his thoughts. She then made it quite clear that she held no sympathy for him, a killer. If he was as elite as his reputation built him up as, then this should be no problem. And if he didn’t? She wasn’t going to lose sleep over there being one less rogue assassin out there. Pierre had a feeling that reinforcements weren’t coming for him. She ordered him to hop to it, leaving one more threat to Francesca’s good health, and then she was as silent as he was.

After Pierre was sure that Persephone was done with her power trip, he mulled over his new situation. Everyone in this car now had a new side to them. Was Jacques really the fool he made himself out to be? Surely someone as well connected as the infamous Jacques Hein must have an incredibly powerful ability in order to keep all his contacts from killing him in order to keep his mouth shut. Was he indestructible? Is that why he was constantly placed in mortal danger tonight, yet didn’t display any obvious powers like super strength, super speed, or super intelligence? As Pierre kept looking at the fat buffoon, he kept wondering just how powerful this man was.

And then there was Robin. He, too, had (now) noticeably neglected to inform the rest of the group as to what his powers were. His diamond-patterned suit did nothing to narrow the list of possibilities down. Was he smarter or dumber for not acting incompetent in front of everyone? Layers upon layers of doubt kept overlapping in Pierre’s mind as the car sped towards the hospital.

#

Suddenly, a loud explosion came a mile off the highway! Fred whipped his head to see what caused it. Smoke was still forming a beautiful mushroom cloud. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell what caused it.

“Accelerate towards the source of that noise,” Cid said. “I believe Ditto Perfect just found his first power.”

“Yeah! That’s what I like to hear!”

The next exit was immediately upon them, so Fred jerked the wheel hard to the right, swerving the car across four lanes, regardless of any cars that were in those lanes. The boys were greeted with a chorus of horns. Fred loved all of it. He’d wave to all his adoring fans if he could, but he really needed both hands on the wheel.

He tore through the streets, and honestly, he probably shouldn’t even be bothering with staying on the streets. Who cares if he was using the sidewalks as shortcuts? They were on a tight schedule!

“The primary point of corralling those law enforcement officers to the pier was to secure a cloak of obscurity for future endeavors,” Cid pointed out.

“We’re not supposed to be drawing attention to ourselves?” Fred said. “See how quick and easy that was to say? Not like your garbled nonsense.”

“It is his brand,” You interjected.

“Who asked you?” Fred returned.

Fred didn’t know exactly the quickest and most legal route to get to the explosion, but he sure knew that, scientifically, driving in a straight line was the fastest way to get to somewhere!

“I reiterate my previous declaration. Boldly blazing through parks and parking lots is, factually, in the detriment of concealment.”

“Why is everyone trying to bring me down today?!” yelled Fred, soaring through another red light.

They were rapidly getting close to their destination. Closer…closer…

Suddenly, the space directly in front of them was engulfed in flames as a rocket launcher almost landed a direct hit.

#

I’m pretty sure that when I told myself that this night couldn’t get any worse, what with the whole having to stop a supped up Lenny, dealing with a bunch of super villains who could probably beat me in a straight fight, having a bomb stuck inside my head, and now driving towards an explosion, that of course it was going to get a whole lot worse. Armed thugs are now shooting at us, and Pierre already used up most of his ammo against Morgasmon’s spawns.

“Can’t you drive any faster?!” screams Jacques.

“What do you want me to do, hit warp drive?” I yell back.

A stray bullet completely rips off the left view mirror.

“Well there goes the warranty.”

“How are you making jokes at a time like this?!” he says.

“Call it a defense mechanism. I seem to recall blondes being yours.”

Another bullet shatters the rear window. Screw this. I swerve the car into the nearest alleyway and park it.

“Okay, time for Plan B,” I say, unbuckling myself. “Hope you boys brought your Air Jordans, because we’re hoofing it the rest of the way.”

“We’re what?! You mean to tell me that we’re taking the slower path to Ditto Perfect, with an army of trained snipers right behind our tails?!”

Pierre steps out of the car with his gear slung over his shoulder. He looks about as happy as the rest of us. He gestures wildly in every direction. I can only take a stab at what he’s trying to say.

“Where? Oh, that’s when things get much more pleasant. See, I’m finally dumping you two and getting some peace and quiet. The cherry on top of this lovely day. The way I see it, you and I work best alone, and Jacques here doesn’t work at all.”

“Hey!”

“So instead of trying to work as a group and trying not to step on each other’s toes and moving at the speed of molasses, I say we each go off in different directions and do what we do best. It’s harder for those meatheads to hit. We still have to meet up at the site of the explosion, though. I don’t know about you, but I like to think of my head as my best asset, and I’d hate for it to get blown off by a mini-bomb because I didn’t do my homework on time.”

Pierre taps on his wrist.

“What time? Oh, just get there as fast as you can. I’m not really a stickler for sticking close to a schedule.”

Pierre nods and scampers off further down the alleyway. I take out my grappling hook and shoot it at the nearby staircase on the side of the wall.

“Wait!” Jacques yells, “You’re not just gonna leave me here alone, are ya?”

I smile back at him.

“See you at rendezvous, Jacques.”

And then I lift myself up to the staircase, and proceed to flip my way up to the top.

As I press myself against a wall, I collect myself and come up with a plan. Okay, snipers behind me, an overgrown loon in front of me, and I’ve got to make it out of this alive. Whatever am I supposed to do?

I hear the telltale shot of a sniper rifle go off. Pierre doesn’t waste any time, I see.

“Ah do hope you’re enjoying your evening, my little tramp.”

Not now. I scan the area for her, but I can’t find Persephone anywhere.

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked it when someone entered you and bosses you around.”

Is she invisible? And to think, I left my heat-vision contacts at home.

“How typically ignorant of a woman,” I say. “Sees a man dressed head to toe in a skintight latex suit and thinks he’s all about the S in S&M.”

“Girl, I’m all about giving you a crash course on being my collared bitch. Best not to bark too loud, or Mama’s gonna hafta get you neutered.”

Is it just me, or do I feel a sudden headache coming on?

“Dose nanomachines I fucked into yo brain can do all kinds of dings, chu know dat? Not only do dey act as a great insurance policy, but I get to coo at all my pets whenever I want. And who knows what else dey can do? I have a bunch of buttons on dis remote here and I lost the user manual.”

I will snap this woman’s wrists if I ever find her.

“Are we done here, Mom? You can leave now. And don’t forget to shut the door behind you,” I say sweetly.

“Shut yo moneymaker and listen up! Now I know how much chu love to play wit’ others, so you probably didn’t notice, but dey’re all trained killers. Even Jacques has a good day every once in a while.”

“Gee, I never would have noticed.”

“Chu keep makin’ wisecracks. Go ahead, do it all night long for all I care. Doesn’t change da fact dat dey all know about da division of profits. Namely, dat da federal government caught wind of dis and issued a monetary reward for da neutralization of Ditto Perfect. And, quick math quiz here: which do you dink is more? A million divided by six, or a million divided by one?”

She lets that linger for a hot second.

“Dat’s right, bitch boy. And what do you dink da value of yo life is to dem?”

“I’m one-of-a-kind, priceless,” I confidently retort. I’m not giving her the satisfaction of a real answer.

“Dat’s real cute. I’ll be sure to pay a stripper to carve dat onto yo tombstone. I already gave da okay to da rest of dem to wipe each other out. And da way I see it? You’re right in dat sweet spot of ‘not weak enough to not be a threat; not so powerful dat no one can take chu on.’ Da twins can take chu on easily, and You (that’s with a capital Y)? Sheet, he could be right behind you now listenin’ in on dis.”

Shit. At the risk of proving how much control she has over me, I bolt in front of me and twist around to see the area above where I’m sitting. Empty.

“Boo! Did I scare ya?” she taunts. “Well da fright night’s not over yet. Remember, you dumped a silent assassin just a minute ago. And any one of dem are smart enough to know how to use Jacques to da best of his abilities. If I were you, I’d start callin’ in some favors.”

“Any particular reason why you’re sharing this with me?”

“Oh, I just wanted to taunt chu with how royally screwed chu are. And I’ll admit, I kinda wanted to see you curl up into a literal ball, just to see if you can.”

“Mmm, yeah, but that would leave a lot of orifices vulnerable, so I’m going to say…no.”

“It don’t matter what chu say in a few short minutes. Tata for now!”

And then she finally stops yapping. Good, now I can think for two seconds without some ignoramus pestering me with their life problems. Let’s see, turn around and face the firing squad, or go forward and see what other painful powers Ditto Perfect’s borrowed?

Another gunshot rings out behind me.

…You know, I haven’t said hello to my good friend Michael in a while. Let’s do that.

Sorry for the delay! I got sidetracked with the rewrite the genre challenge that just went up and Camp NaNoWriMo. As always, thanks for reading.
Copyright © 2019 Young Sage; All Rights Reserved.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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