The Web of the Weaver: Interlude: Glory and Terror

Everyone was screaming and yelling, and Madison looked around frantically. Rosita was making terrible moaning sounds and BLOOD was all over the place. Nobody could help her, everyone was running....

A memory came to her, flashing like a strobe, disjointed memories. She'd been in Sixth grade and fallen on the jungle Gym and they'd driven her to the hospital.

Hospitals. Doctors. Help.

She scooped Rosita up in one arm, the bigger girl weighing nothing and tucking her in, ran to the wall. She didn't know how, but she could go through it. Steel and brick exploded as she hit it, taking a leap into the parking lot. Hospital. The Hospital would fix everything. That single thought in her head, Madison ran into the city, claws gouging deep furrows into the ground.

*****

Vicky liked flying, especially during school—well between Arcadia and college, since she was not just taking night courses, but a single day course, with approval, since Dr. Baxter’s “Parahuman Science 310” was only offered in the day time.

So she was taking a roundabout path back. If she saw someone shop—

And that was when the wall of a building just exploded, a shape charging through the dust.

Vicky dove down. Mom would have a cow if she engaged Lung or Hookwolf, but what—Then it came looming out of the dust and for a short moment, she wondered if Crawler had come to town.

It was… bigger than human, not immense, but oily skin and plates merged into clawed arms and legs and a head that was…

Vicky swallowed. It was human, sort of, with a human face, a broad muzzle framing a mouth full of fangs, thick dreadlock style “hair” flowing back with a stain in the hair that looked like painted on hair clips…

Her stomach turned. Something about the entire form was just… ugly.

Case 53?  Some of the pictures had been bad. But… then she saw the moaning girl, held by one arm, held… protectively, but she was bleeding…

Right. Vicky landed in front of it. Case 53s didn’t know who they were, and the books agreed, that they could strike out, especially if you stressed them.

“Hi—I need you to put the girl down.”

“No! Hospital—“

“Right, we’ll take it—but put her down!” She didn’t mean to, but even the voice was grating, and combined with everything else her aura flared in threat—and then the Case 53 screamed and charged her, faster than it should have been able.

Fuck. Vicky moved to grab it, subdue it—

And it smacked her. Harder than she’d ever been hit before. She went flying, the street blurring around her, her field down, and then moments later, it came up—just in time for Vicky to slam into a brick wall, through  the brick wall, and embed her in the concrete rear wall, cracks running through it.

Holy shit. Nobody in the Bay hits that hard. But Vicky flew back, hands clenched into fists—to see an empty street, gouges in it, people screaming… and vanishing into the distance, the Case 53… heading for Downtown.

Heading for the Hospital.

But looking at an empty car that the Case 53 had torn through like paper mache, it wasn’t paying much attention to people around it, and Vicky knew from experience— not paying attention as a Brute was a good way to get someone killed. Sometimes she got…

She shook her head. This wasn’t about her. Vicky shot forward, faster than the Case 53, which still had the girl tucked under its body and was doing at least 40, but it was, sort of, trying to dodge the people who were panicking when they saw what was coming down the street.

What the fuck—right.  She shot past it. Last thing they needed was a brawl against something too panicked or pissed to pull its punches in the middle of a crowd.

Mom is gonna fucking kill me…

Vicky flew down, grabbed a bus bench, pulled  it up and threw it into the side street, did the same with another, blocking both sides.

“CAPE!” she shouted as loud as she could, her aura turned up to max. “GET OUT OF THE STREET. GET OUT OF THE STREET”  Some people moved, others stopped and fucking took pictures, as she flew down and knocked over a light pole, blocking other streets.

God, I do not want to know how much this is going to cost as she flew just ahead of the Case 53, tossing shit into streets, keeping anyone from crossing just in time to die by Brute. Then she mentally kicked herself and pulled her phone, hitting the emergency button.

“PRT, what is the emergency?” Capes got direct numbers.

“Case 53 heading for Brockton General with an injured girl, no idea if she’s a hostage or it’s trying to help her. The Case 53 is a Brute 8 at least, heading down 7th avenue, I’m blocking side streets, but repeat, it’s a Brute 8 at least.”   Better they overestimate than underestimate. And whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t below a Brute 7.

Then she saw that the street in front of them was crowded with cars, the usual Bay traffic clog becoming far more dangerous. She slammed down. “GET OUT OF YOUR CARS, CAPE COMING!”  People just stared at her. Then, when it was too late, half of them turned to see what was bearing down on them and started getting out, when it would have been safer to stay in their cars…

Fuck, it’s going to go right through them it’s…  The Case 53 just took an immense leap, flying into the air, clearing a block and a half and landing in a clear spot before taking off. Okay—“This is Glory Girl,” she said. “The Case 53 appears to be trying to avoid hurting civilians, I think they’re freaked, not hostile.”

“Glory Girl, this is Armsmaster, I am on the way. Information indicates that this may be a new trigger, not a Case 53. Use caution. Adding extreme physical changes to normal trigger trauma… Assault is on his way, will arrive first, focus on isolating them, and evacuating civilians.”

Shit, “Okay.”

And then it was landing in the hospital parking lot, demolishing someone’s very expensive car. Vicky shot down, just as it went into the ER—literally, the bullet proof glass and parahuman-rated frame didn’t even slow it down. People were screaming, as she shot down and if it got violent, she’d have to fight—

“Please!” the burbling voice sounded somehow disgusting and young at the same time. “Help her! She’s been knifed!”

It held out a girl and Vicky could see the way her intestines were bulging through her belly. “Oh God…” the Latina moaned. “I—“

“It’ll be okay, Rosita—HELP!”

Two nurses and a paramedic shook off their paralysis. Ran forward, taking the moaning girl and putting her on a gurney, running her back into the ER, as more hooting alarms sounded.

“What the fuck is that thing?” A teen with a broken arm shouted.

“Jesus Christ!” another voice said. Younger children were screaming and security was trying to get everyone out, including people in wheelchairs.

In the middle of it the parahuman was hunching over, shooting frantic, trapped, looks at everyone.

“No, I—“ It reached out and a middle-aged lady screamed and wet herself.

“Hey—it’s okay,” Vicky said. “She’s just a parahuman!” she called out louder. She was trying to calm people down, there were limits to what her aura could do.

“Fuck that, she looks like Crawler!”

“No—“

“She’s not Crawler!” Vicky shouted, but the damage had been done.

“I’m—I—“

And then there was a popping sound as a half dozen bullets hit the parahuman’s skin… and just fell off. The girl looked over at the businessman who had a gun he’d pulled, and then, with a steam kettle shriek, charged out the way she’d come, before reaching down and ripping a manhole cover off the ground and vanishing through it.

Vicky stared. There was no way she could catch her down there—or worse, she might corner her and as freaked…

She had one person to take it out on and she zipped over to sure-shot and ripped the gun from his hand, crushing it in hers. “What was that about!”

“You heard it, she was like Crawler, a monster!”

Vicky lost her temper and hoisted him up by his shirt. “So you thought she was like Crawler and you were going to shoot her in a hospital! You—“

“Glory Girl, Stop!”   Assault. Not sounding like a joker.

And then she noticed the cameras from those who had been too stupid to run, taking pictures of her hoisting a businessman in one hand, and looking like she was about to punch him with the other.

She was definitely going to get yelled at. Vicky just hoped that was the worst that happened.