Web of the Weaver: Chapter 29

We were zipping down the street when the radio squawked.

“All units, all units. Be on the lookout for Aisha Laborn, last seen at her residence at 438 Wilkin Street, Michelson Apartments unit 115. All off-duty officers are to proceed to command post set up at Lincoln and Main for further orders.” Above us, a helicopter zipped overhead.

Where would Aisha go. She wouldn’t be hiding. She’d just been out for a walk. Had she taken her phone with her…

“Turn right.”

“Ain’t nowhere near her apartment.”

“There are enough police there to find her. She would be heading for the Boardwalk.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s a teenager and I expect she was angry at her mother. The other directions take her into ABB or Empire territory and Ms. Laborn isn’t an idiot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

I pulled out my phone. “Bulwark.”

Moments later, he answered. “Yeah?”

“Head for the waterfront, just beyond the Boardwalk.”

“I—SHIT!” there was a honking sound. “Um, okay, I’ll get back to you. I’m not so good at driving.” Then he hung up on me.

I stared at the phone for a moment, then looked at the detective.

“Take us down the same way.” I could send my bugs out. Controlling them as they entered my area to see what I could see. My radius seemed to be a little bigger than normal.

“Why the waterfront?”

“Piers. Easier to dispose of a body.”

I hoped I was right. This was the first time I was making a hunch that I hadn’t set up before to make me look smart. But… Aisha was closer to the water than the trainyards or other regions where you would dispose of a body.

“All units, all units. African-American female was reported being forced into a white van by suspected E-88 members at North and 14th Street. Believed to be Aisha Laborn. Mulitple suspects, presumed armed and dangerous. We—“There was a sudden stop. “All units, all units, Be advised that PRT units will be cooperating in the operation. PRT troopers en route, Armsmaster, Assault, and Velocity will be coordinating.”

“The fuck? She’s…” Suddenly, Harding glanced at me. “She’s a cape, or related to one. Holy shit. This is a hit.”

“Yes. Let us hurry.”

I glanced down at my phone and nodded. The ping routine I’d written for Bulwark was showing his vehicle moving up, just behind the waterfront. We were beyond the busy part of the Boardwalk and this was mostly little covered piers extending out over the water, where fishing boats had once delivered their bounty.

The Boat Graveyard had ended much of that, not directly, but by contaminating the waters of the bay with various toxic chemicals. For the first several months commercial fishing operations had been impossible, not because the fish were contaminated, since they were caught outside of the bay, but the risk of contamination as they were brought in. By the time that ended, the fishing operations had relocated.

Now they were largely deserted save for local fishermen who came to sit at the end of the pier and dream of better days. But I wasn’t looking for them…

And then—I felt it. A group of people in the front of a pier. A vehicle. Engine warm when I sent my bugs.

“Turn here!”

Harding didn’t pause, whipping the car around. I sent the message to Bulwark. “Let’s go!”

We zipped into the cul de sac, the open chain-link fence leading to the pier behind a white van.

And men, raising their guns.

“SHIT!” Harding turned the car to the side, but suddenly the men were flailing as I slammed their ear drums with bugs, hammering on the sensitive membrane. Shots went while, and Harding and I bailed out of the car.

“All units, all units, have located suspects!” Harding was shouting into his mic. “Shots fired, Officer needs assistance!”

I rolled to the right, a fly on the end of a gun letting me know where the bullets were going to go before they were fired.

“STOP!!!” I roared through my bugs. “Stay here,” I told Harding. “Bulwark is only a few moments out.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Remind some individuals of their place in the world.”

I had to take the risk. This would attract the PRT’s full attention, and I couldn’t depend on Armsmaster being stupid.

That would be very stupid. I would have to set the stage while working—and in any case, my bugs couldn’t do everything, especially If Aisha was injured.

If Aisha was dead? Then her assailants would join her, and let the consequences be what they may.

I snapped out my batons and moved through the men. I could see where they were, feel where they were moving, where they could only hear the tripper hammer sound of my bugs. One raised his gun to fire at Harding, and my hand snapped out the baton, shattering the bones in his wrist. Another was raising a double-barreled shotgun at me. I ducked under it, knowing where it would go, smashed it out of his hands, then shattered his jaw.

I was not feeling merciful. Then I was past them, some were turning, but they were distracted as I felt a large form smash through one of the old buildings.

Bulwark. He was at least ten feet tall with the trashcan helmet on his head and his form was more angular now.

Huh. He’d learned to create plates out of his material. The men were now screaming, all eight that weren’t on the ground, shooting at him. Harding was firing and then one was down and then Bulwark… kicked one into the fence held up his hands and…

They were engulfed in a thick spray of CO2, the men staggering back, covering there eyes.

Huh. He’d figured out how to do that. By himself.

But now I was heading into the building. I could see…

Then I fell flat on my face.

What the hell—oh. Oh no. I’d studied trigger events. Of course, only an idiot didn’t if she intended on getting involved in cape affairs.

Someone had triggered.

No. Aisha had triggered.

Oh, Taylor, shouldn’t you be crying, after all, it’s your mom’s birthday…

Listen to her, what’s the matter Taylor, can’t get out of the locker?

Bugs, rot, hopeless, no escape, walls closing in… nobody cares no body…

They had done that to Aisha. Snarky Aisha in my class who already had to deal with her mother.

They. Had. Done. That. To. Aisha.

“YOU DARE!!!” I gathered my insects in one mighty swarm, every thought of subtlety blown out in the hurricane of my rage.

The men looked up, seeing the sheer twisting mass of insects that I called. Coming through the wooden floor, down from the ceiling, flies wasps bees, centipedes and they screamed. But one, in his panic, kicked the bag they’d tied Aisha to, and it went into the water, pulling her after it.

I shed my hat and coat, heading for her, glancing at the tub of water, seeing what they had done.

And suddenly, my fury changed. I’d never thought I could get so angry that I wrapped right back around to calm.

But I was.

Because simple fury would see them getting off far too easily.

But while I was thinking of that, I’d dove into the water, seeing Aisha frantically struggling, the rope holding her a foot under the water, a last little bit of sadism. I pulled my knife, thanking heaven that I’d paid extra for the diamond edge.

If the rope had been a chain, she probably would have died. In the future, I’d have to be prepared for that.

But I managed to cut the cord and was pulling her limp form up to the little bit of land that thrust out under the pier building. It was wet, the stones damp from the air, an old homeless camp, long since abandoned, pushed up under the building.

*****

“Do you think to escape?” I chittered out to the band of men in the building. “Escape me? I am Orb Weaver.”

They’d seen the bugs, but I had a solution for that.

“I am not just every insect…” Driven by stingers and spiders, a tide of panicked, squeaking rats ran out, the men screaming. “…or even every vermin…” Disturbed by more insects, the birds nesting in the ceiling flew out and if they were not as… controlled as the insects, the men were not the most observant. “I am this city. Every bit, every piece. I look into the destiny of those who live here, and the spirits of those who died here speak to me…” Thousands of flies flew up and covered the broken windows, each fly linked to the insects by them, their wings not moving, looking for all the world like I’d made the windows vanish.

“Even the buildings answer to my call. Shall I entomb you?”

They started to run, but every one met a wraith of my creation, eyes staring out (really a place I’d thinned the insects so light could shine through) at them. “No… you cannot run from your sins.”

*****

Under the pier, I checked—shit, she wasn’t breathing. I rolled her down and started rescue breathing. Studying all those medical books hadn’t been a waste, especially since I knew that 90 percent of amateurs were too timid when they were doing compressions. CPR, rescue breathing, wait. Nothing. Repeat the pattern… She gasped, my bugs feeling her heart starting, hammering in her chest. I sent more bugs around her, rumbling in time, their movement heading up around her, forming a warm blanket.

For a few moments, she was still, then screamed in panic, her eyes flying open as she started flailing, seeing nothing but her attackers.

“Aisha!” I said. “It’s cool!”

“I… Taylor?”

“Heard you were in trouble,” I shrugged.

*****

The men around me weren’t talking. They’d opened their mouths to scream, and I’d sent bugs down their throats. The shouting was declining outside. Only a few minutes had passed, but…

“It’s amusing, isn’t it, watching someone die because they can’t breathe when they’re surrounded by air?” My voice was chummy. “I could watch it all day… maybe prolong it…” With that, I pulled the insects holding that little, all-important flap of skin closed away. A few wheezes and then panic as I sent them back down, cutting off the air again. “Yes, prolong it. Every moment, just a few more seconds where you can’t breathe, always wondering if this is the moment you won’t be able to… ever again.”

Outside, I’d gotten some flies to grab little bits of sand. They flew back in, dropping the sand into a beam of sunlight, moving around, looking like some shimmering figure—a figure of a man, hands on his throat.

“Don’t mind him. I keep him with me, because he’ll never be able to breathe again. Trapped like that, between life and death, for eternity, no hope of release. Maybe he wants company?”

I let some more air in. Then I stopped it again. “But just ask me to stop. And I will. What… I’m waiting. Aren’t you going to speak? Just one word is all I need.” They were clawing at their throats, feeling the things I’d used to plug their airways. It was amazing how little force you needed to do that.

I’d have to keep that in mind.

*****

“Taylor…” Aisha said, tears falling from her eyes. “I… I fought ‘em, kicked one in the balls but…” She started breathing a little faster. “I tried, but they held me down and… I was gonna beg ‘em like some fucking druggie coward, just some black—“ Her voice was scaling up, and once again, I remembered the locker. Once again, I considered leaving my bugs to execute a richly deserved sentence.

Instead, I hugged her.

I hadn’t done this…

Huh. Since Mom had died, Mom had always been the one comforting me.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I know what it’s like. When I was in the locker, before I triggered, I’d have done anything. I could have kissed Emma’s feet, told the school she was right. That’s what happens.” Now I heard what sounded like every police car in the state coming in, and someone else… I’d best hurry things along upstairs.

*****

“Or you could have mercy…” I laughed slowly. “My mercy. Tell the PRT and the police, every crime, everything you’ve done. Not just now, but ever… and maybe I won’t come in, someday, as you sleep…. And bring you to me. Forever.” I started pulling the bugs out, the men opening their mouths and gagging, but I sent little gnats and bugs up around them, so it looked like, at least to oxygen-starved and panicked minds, that the bugs were dissolving into clouds. And now…

Now for the final bit. “Not that I have to wait that long. People like you come to me in the end… Forever.” And then I sent my bugs up, all of them roaring up and filling the room, and for a second, just a secon,d I sent my order,s and beetles turned and closed their carapaces, while other insects flew in precise formation…

To form an indistinct bat-winged figu,re great wings outspread as it laughed at the sobbing men on the ground. And then it was pouring out to the sound of my laughter, just as Velocity spun into the room.

Huh. I’d timed that really well.

“I think we got some friends up above,” I told Aisha, still hugging her. “Look, I’ll have to tell you some stuff later, but first of all, there were about 18 guys up there. They sent ‘em all to get little old you.” Probably because some of them just wanted to be along to murder a black teenager, but you don’t need to know that. “Think you were scared? I bet half of them shit their pants when they heard they were going after Aisha.”

The laugh was… not much of a laugh. But it was there. And so were… huh. Shadowy forms, looking sort of like Aisha, standing around us.

And then there was a burst of wind, and Velocity was there. I’d seen him coming in. From the direction, I expect he’d been halfway across town when Harding sent in the call.

“Aisha,” he said. “Are you—“Then he looked around at the figures. “Shit.”

“She triggered,” I told him.

He glanced at me.

“Taylor Hebert. Orb Weaver heard Aisha was in trouble and sent me. He doesn’t do so well with reassuring.”

“I saw something dissipating above…” he paused.

Above, we heard the sound of sobbing men and cops.

“On the ground! On the fucking—stop fucking hugging me!” one aggrieved voice rose. “Jesus, did you all shit yourselves?”

“Be glad you didn’t see him,” I said, shuddering. I was really going to have to move fast here, because well, the Protectorate wasn’t stupid, and there was no way Taylor Hebert wasn’t going to be a person of interest after this.

I could have left, but… Aisha was still hanging on to me. She had needed me.

“I saw him,” Aisha said, glancing at me.

Is she going to—no, she said ‘him’. What is she…

“Can’t miss him. He’s seven feet tall, green hair, has a peg leg… and a parrot.”

Velocity stared at her, then laughed. “I’ll put out an APB.”

I thought for a moment. If one of my identities was in danger… maybe create another one—

No.

After all, where would I get a parrot?

And then paramedics and police were coming down, and I was being invited to head to the PRT HQ.

Well, nobody said this job would be easy.