21.6

Worm, Chapter 21.6 Summary:

The aftermath of the Leviathan attack lingered, the city flooded, the air thick with evaporated water. Rain lashed down, a relentless barrage, the wind turning it horizontal. Taylor, accompanied by the Undersiders, stood in the street, facing a squat building. Regent, ever the joker, was ready to trip up any sudden enemy movements. Rachel, with her monstrous dogs, hung back, a force held in reserve.

The Ambassadors, loaned by Accord, were present, their colorful powers muted by the rain. Citrine, Othello, Jacklight, Ligeia, Lizardtail, and Codex stood ready, sheltered by Citrine’s color-draining field. Their temporary costumes, simple and unadorned, reflected the urgency of their deployment.

Their target: the Teeth, holed up inside the building, recovering from recent skirmishes. Twenty unpowered troops, six or so capes, all nursing injuries, eating, joking, oblivious to the impending storm. Butcher, the leader, sat apart, cleaning her gun, a chilling detachment in her posture.

Taylor had spent time studying them, analyzing their movements, noting their habits, all through the discreet eyes of her bugs. The wait was tense, the minutes stretching into an eternity. Regent’s commentary, a mix of humor and impatience, filled the silence.

Finally, the signal came. Bugs surged into the building, not from the direction of the waiting capes, but from the opposite, a wave of chitin and stingers. They disrupted the Teeth’s meal, scattered their money, dragged away unattended weapons. Spree, handcuffed to a towel rack in the bathroom, struggled to join the fray.

The first of the Teeth to exit the building was caught in a tripwire of spider silk. Others trampled over him, firing blindly into the darkness. The powered members, however, gathered around Butcher, their movements silent and purposeful.

Butcher, immune to pain and armed with the powers of thirteen fallen capes, led the charge. Spree generated a tide of duplicates, a living wave of bodies, each dumber than the last. They were a distraction, a force to occupy the Undersiders while the true threats advanced.

Codex, a blaster-thinker hybrid, attacked the duplicates, causing brain damage and memory loss. Jacklight launched orbs of light that warped space and redirected the clones. Ligeia conjured geysers of water, driving the duplicates back, sucking some into an unknown void.

Rachel released her dogs, monstrous beasts that tore through the tide of duplicates. Vex, with her countless, sharp forcefields, slowed their advance. Animos, a shapeshifter, engaged one of the dogs, his power-stripping scream nullified by Citrine’s aura.

Butcher teleported past the defenses, a muted explosion marking her arrival. She fired her gatling gun at one of the dogs, the weapon jamming after ten shots. A danger sense, inherited from a previous Butcher, allowed her to evade the dog’s retaliatory attack.

She reappeared, swinging her gun like a club, knocking Bentley off his feet. Super strength, accumulated from multiple Butchers, made her blows devastating.

Othello, invisible and immaterial, attacked Hemorrhagia, his presence only revealed by the shallow cuts that appeared on her skin. Imp appeared, electrocuting Spree, ending the stream of duplicates.

Butcher inflicted a wave of pain, momentarily incapacitating Bentley. Regent, off-balance, was caught as Bentley struck her. She teleported between Regent and Taylor, a wave of flame washing over them. A rage-inducing aura, another stolen power, filled their minds, turning them against her mindlessly.

Taylor stabbed at Butcher, finding a vulnerable spot, but was elbowed aside, tumbling amidst the Spree clones. Lizardtail’s healing power, suppressed by Butcher’s wound-aggravating ability, slowly mended her injuries.

Butcher threw Regent into Biter, potentially fatally injuring them both. She teleported to Rachel, and Taylor, anticipating a confrontation, had lines of silk prepared. Butcher, however, teleported free, the flames destroying the silk.

Codex was helped onto Bentley, and they charged, Butcher their target. Butcher unfolded a compound bow, a weapon once used by Quarrel, a previous Butcher. She reformed the rooftop into arrows, aiming at the group.

Codex struck Taylor, nearly unseating her, as an arrow pierced the new villain’s neck. Butcher aimed again, her shots unerringly accurate. Rachel and Taylor, realizing they were outmatched, fled, Butcher in pursuit.

They reached the edge of the city, Butcher still closing in. Taylor created nets of silk, but Butcher teleported through them, the flames consuming the strands. With one net left, they lured Butcher to a rooftop, ensnaring her as she prepared to fire.

She fell, teleporting to the ground, injured but alive. Rachel’s dogs snatched her up, and they fled, knowing they had little time. They reached a designated spot, a line of stones in the wet sand. Rat-dog shook Butcher, then dropped her on command.

Butcher roused, attacking the dogs, but hesitated, stepping back from the line. She inflicted pain, a desperate attack, but fell to her knees, conversing with the voices in her head. She formed a spike of sand, teleported above it, and impaled herself.

The fight was over. They left Butcher, her powers neutralized, and returned to the others. The only casualty was Codex.

Later, at Rachel’s shelter, a semblance of normalcy returned. Rachel’s followers, a collection of damaged souls, tended to the dogs, a sense of routine in their actions. Taylor suggested a new role for Rachel, a guardian of the portal world, a tracker of fugitives. Rachel, ever practical, worried about feeding her dogs.

They ate, a meal prepared by a blue-eyed girl, one of Rachel’s followers. The food was mediocre, but the girl’s pride was evident. As night fell, they tended to the dogs, a calming ritual for Rachel.

Taylor, exhausted, woke on a couch, a blanket over her. Rachel, too, was resting, the blue-eyed girl beside her. A makeshift family, bound by damage and a shared need for connection.

Taylor departed, leaving Rachel to her dogs and her found family. She had delayed long enough. The Teeth were weakened, but not destroyed. Hemorrhagia and Reaver had escaped, and there were still rank-and-file members to deal with. But the immediate threat was lessened.

Tomorrow, she would face Tagg and the PRT. The inevitable confrontation, the one she had been dreading, could no longer be postponed. The future, uncertain and fraught with danger, awaited.