Just A Minute‚ Are We Sure Going In There Was Her Sole Choice?

Building Connections 16-02 (Summus Proelium)

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By the time I caught up with the Easy Eight trucks, they had reached what was apparently their destination. It was an outdoor shopping center, where one of the trucks had already plowed its way through a statue in front of the fountain. All of the vehicles were spread out along the road and sidewalk in front of the shopping center, clearly being used as barricades to help stop the people within from easily escaping. They couldn’t block off everything, but they did their best. 

Landing on the roof of one of the buildings, I took a second to process what I was seeing. Down below, a bunch of the Easy Eight troops were busy rounding up customers and employees alike. They were moving them to a specific area in the middle of the open walkway between shops. Some of the civilians were struggling more than others, but it didn’t do them any good. Easy or hard, all of them were taken to join that crowd, tied with what looked like ordinary zip-cuffs, and made to sit on the ground. Just how rough the thugs were with their respective prisoners seemed to vary a lot, though at least it looked like they were treating the elderly a bit more gently. There were a few benches nearby and anyone who genuinely looked old was being allowed to sit there with their hands zip-tied in front of them rather than behind. So at least there was that. Not that it made these Easy Eight guys heroes, but they weren’t the ‘push a helpless elderly person to the ground’ level of scum. They still had some vague level of decency. 

Beyond just waiting to see what the general scene looked like before I threw myself into it like an idiot, I was also trying to get an idea of where Juice might be. He was obviously the biggest threat. I couldn’t do anything to the other guys until I knew where he was. I had to hit him first, had to make sure he couldn’t jump me from behind or whatever, cuz between his strength (I’d seen reports of him hoisting a truck over his head) and his electricity powers, that would be bad. 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t see the guy anywhere. As I stayed low and quickly scanned the whole scene, he didn’t appear. I was pretty sure it would have been hard to miss a guy his size, wearing that helmet and gauntlets. But he wasn’t anywhere. Not out here, at least. Did that mean he was in one of the shops? There was no way he would’ve taken off already, right? 

Even as I was wondering all of that, and trying to figure out what I was going to do to track him down before this all got too out of control, there was a blast of what sounded like thunder coming from directly below me. My gaze snapped to the roof under my feet, and I managed a snapped, “Well, that doesn’t sound good,” before the air was filled with sound again. That time, it was the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass, also from below me but slightly ahead. 

A figure was hurled through the window just under me. I barely caught a glimpse of bright metal–armor of some sort? Whatever it was, the shape went flying through the window, screaming the whole way before sprawling out onto the ground before I could even think of moving. They were holding a bat and a whip, but even as my gaze took that in, I saw both weapons shift and transform to… marbles? They looked like marbles. What the hell? 

Now I had a better look at the figure. They were female, that much was clear. Not to mention young. My age maybe? Either way, she wore a gold chestplate with black highlights, while the rest of the armor across her arms and legs was the opposite, black with gold highlights. She also wore a white helmet and a purple cloak. The whole armor set, including the cloak, gleamed and shone brilliantly with what seemed like some kind of minor inner glow. They were a knight in shining armor, quite literally. 

While I was still trying to process all of that, there was a much louder crash below me. Juice. Hey, I found him. The huge man had hurled himself through the wall and landed easily a little bit away from the metal-armored figure. I heard his voice even from the roof. “Still ticking, huh?” He chuckled, sounding awful and evil as he slammed his electricity-covered fist into his other palm. “Good, let’s have some fun.” 

Right, so… I supposed it wasn’t hard to figure out which side the armored girl was on. Whether she was part of the Ninety-Niners or not, I wasn’t sure. I’d never seen or heard of her before. 

But now, all that really mattered was the fact that she was in trouble. Juice wasn’t exactly going to take it easy on her. His tone of voice, the way he smacked his palm eagerly, made that much clear. This guy was going to do some real damage to the armored girl if I let him. 

Thankfully, he was also intently focused on her. He had no idea I was even here, which would give me one free hit. I just had to make sure it counted. A single free shot while he was distracted. 

To that end, I checked the path between the front of the shopping center and where Juice was straightening up. Just a few Easy Eight thugs, watching with what appeared to be amusement. Oh, they’d be super-amused soon. Quickly, I shot a wide blotch of red paint against the hood of the nearest of their trucks. With my other hand, I hit Juice with a blotch of red on his raised arm even as he was pointing toward the frantically-protesting armored girl, who was lying there frozen from apparent terror. 

Apparently he noticed the paint hitting him, because Juice blinked down at the red mark. “What–” 

That was all he had time to say before I activated the paint. Instantly, the truck tore itself off the ground and went tumbling end over end, crashing its way through those few thugs (who dove to either side with a collection of curses). But Juice couldn’t dodge. Even as the man started to dive away, the truck adjusted its trajectory. I heard a brief, belated curse (or maybe it was a threat) escape the Easy Eight lieutenant just before the truck slammed full-force into him. He was sent crashing to the ground within the wreckage. From the sound and look of it, the truck actually took the worst of that collision. But it still helped, because it put the guy on the ground at least for a moment. 

It was a moment that I put to good use. Namely, by extending a hand to shoot red paint at the still-motionless girl on the ground. She gave a yelp as I activated it, launching her up off the pavement and toward where I was standing. My hand caught hers and I pulled her onto the roof beside me. “I take it these guys weren’t part of the entertainment for tonight?” 

“Paintball!” the girl blurted out loud. I could see her eyes through the small, open slits in the helmet. They were wide with what looked like a mixture of confusion, shock, and fear. “Y-you saved–” She seemed to cut herself off, making a noise in the back of her throat as though unsure of what to say. Then her eyes shifted slightly to the side, and widened even more as she blurted, “Down!” 

With that, she grabbed my arm, yanking herself and me both flat against the roof even as a blast of lightning went flying over our heads. It was accompanied by a bellow of anger. Apparently Juice was up. I’d really been hoping getting hit by a truck would keep him down a few seconds longer. 

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to focus on that. Because Juice’s super-strength extended to his legs. He leapt, landing hard in the middle of the roof before pivoting to face the two of us. I could hear the snarl in his voice. “Paintball. Who’s your new friend?” 

“Uh.” I blinked that way while scrambling to my feet, hauling the girl herself up after me. “You don’t know her either, huh?” 

My words were met with a low chuckle. “Doesn’t matter. Deicide might have reasons for playing nice, but they don’t extend to me. You threw yourself into this. And me? I think you’re pretty fucking annoying.” 

Grabbing the girl beside me by the shoulder, I adopted a scandalized tone. “Dude, I think he’s trying to say he won’t join the Paintball fanclub! But we already have posters and hats and bye!” With that last word, just as Juice extended his hand to shoot a blast of lightning at us, I shoved the startled armored girl off the edge of the roof, activating the orange paint I’d put there when I grabbed her arm. At the same time, I fell backward myself and activated a bit of orange on my back. 

We landed back on the ground, while the lightning shot off into the air above us. But we weren’t exactly in great shape there, considering now we were surrounded by more Easy Eight thugs who had picked themselves up and realized just what was going on. Which meant they were about to open fire, so I quickly painted an orange shield across my chest while reaching out toward the armored girl to do the same. 

Except it turned out I didn’t need to. Because just as four different guys started shooting, the two marble-things I’d seen earlier (the ones that had been weapons before this girl dropped them) abruptly came zipping through the air, transforming into a huge pair of shields that covered the two of us from both sides. One bronze and the other silver. They were shaped like medieval kite shields or whatever. The incoming bullets just bounced off, and I heard one guy squeal as he was hit by a ricochet. 

“Dude, did you do that?!” I quickly demanded, looking over my shoulder to the girl. She stood there, looking completely flatfooted and confused. I could see her wide eyes glancing back and forth in what amounted to a panic. 

“I-I dunno!” she stammered. “There was the orb thing and the voice and–” 

Oh shit. I’d never heard of this girl because she was brand new. No wonder she didn’t seem to have any idea how her power worked. And now the bad guys were closing in, deciding to go with melee weapons. Worse, Juice announced his presence by crashing to the ground, grabbing one of the hovering marble-shields, and tossing it aside with a violent curse before lunging straight at us. 

Instantly, my hand snapped out to grab the new girl, holding tight as I painted blue under our feet and activated it. The two of us were launched upward, just barely escaping the big guy’s grasping arms as I shouted, “No free chiropracty today, thanks!” 

The momentum of being launched sent us up and backward, landing toward the rear of the shopping center and sort-of out of sight behind one of those big stands with a bunch of tee-shirts for sale all over it. Slightly beyond where we were was a railing overlooking a set of stairs leading down to a secondary parking area. Already, those guys were coming, so I turned to the girl. “You need to get down. Just find a corner and stay there, I’ll try to deal with these guys and help the prisoners.” 

“No,” the girl abruptly blurted. “I wanna help. I can help. I mean, I think I can.”

There wasn’t time to argue. Even as my mouth opened, a bolt of lightning tore through the top half of the tee-shirt stand while Juice bellowed for them to drag either us or our carcasses back over there. Between that and the running footsteps–yeah. No time. So, I just spoke as quickly as I could, all in a rushed whisper. “Stay low. I’ll get their attention, you sneak around the side and use those fun toys of yours to free the prisoners and get them out of here. Go, go!” With that, I shoved her away, sending the girl falling over the railing and to the stairs below where she would hopefully be okay and ready to follow instructions. 

Either way, I didn’t have time to worry about it. Because just as I did that, one of the Easy Eight guys came lunging around the side of the half-destroyed cart thing I was hiding behind. He was already shouting, raising the shotgun he was armed with before opening fire at point-blank range. 

All those pellets tore into my chest… and through it, as I’d already painted my torso pink. The shotgun blast literally left dozens of holes in my chest, as the man gaped briefly. 

While he was still stunned, I red-yoinked his shotgun away, painting both my arms purple before lashing out to smack the man across the face with it. He went down with a cry. Then, hearing more guys coming, I pivoted and lashed out with a kick into the destroyed sales stand to send it and all the shirts hanging up over it (whatever was left of them anyway) flying out to slam into the bulk of the group. 

“Hey, Juice!” I called, even as my pink paint wore off (thankfully restoring my torso to pristine shape instead of leaving a bunch of little holes in me). “Is that Sunny-D or plain OJ? You know no one likes the purple stuff!” 

Yeah, that got his attention. As if he needed even more of a push. With a growl, the big guy reached out to grab the remains of the same truck I had hit him with, pivoting to hammer throw it right at me. Immediately, I started to launch myself upward using blue paint. But the instant my feet left the ground, I saw Juice already aiming upward. He knew what I was about to do. He was anticipating it, electricity coiling around his hand and already leaping forth toward the spot where I would be. 

So, I did the only thing I could think of. I shot red paint toward the remains of the incoming truck while both it and I were in midair, and hauled myself that way. A touch of orange shielded me from the impact as I hit the bottom of the spinning truck and stuck there, while green gave me the speed I needed to pull the next part off. The boots Wren had provided kept me firmly planted to the truck while it spun end over end, and I watched as the view in front of me kept changing through those brief seconds. Thanks to my own speed from the green paint, the spinning seemed slower than it really was. I saw Juice, then the ground, then the trashed tee-shirt cart behind, then the sky, then Juice, then the ground, then the tee-shirt cart, then the sky–as Juice came back around, I put blue paint beneath my feet and launched myself that way. 

He was still watching the sky where he expected me to be, his bolt of lightning already leaping from his hand and beginning to tear off toward that open space. From the corner of his eye, he saw me coming and tried to adjust, but I was a missile. A missile that flew right past the superstrong man even as he braced himself for a hit that never came. 

Instead, the instant I hit the ground right behind the man, my hands snapped up and around, touching his legs to turn them yellow. A quick activation left the man slowed to about half-speed. He was already pivoting, but I was gone, flinging myself sideways. Which left him time to see the red mark on the ground that I’d left where I was. 

I had to say this for him, the dude wasn’t an idiot. He knew immediately what was happening, and tried to fling himself aside as I had. But the yellow paint slowed him down just enough that the truck remains, hauled that way by the matching red mark I’d left when I was perched on it as the thing spun end over end, slammed into the big guy once again. 

Even that didn’t keep the guy down for long. As the rest of his men looked like they weren’t sure if they wanted to be the first person I threw a truck at, Juice tore the thing apart, scrambling to his feet with a furious shout. “Grab that stupid piece of shit!” 

Yeah, that motivated them. Even as intimidating as me yoinking a truck at them might’ve been, the group was more afraid of their boss being pissed off. Which, well, was fair. I threw trucks, he tanked being hit by the damn things and tore them in half. 

Still, I definitely had their attention. While Juice and his men came rushing my way, I gave the most sarcastic and condescending wave I could manage, then used red paint to yank myself clear to the far end of the shopping center. Landing in a roll, I tried to put some green paint on for a bit more speed. 

Nothing. Fuck. I was out of paint, and the bad guys were–yeah, they were coming. They were charging, weapons raised. Fortunately, they had no idea I was out of paint for the moment so they didn’t bother shooting at me. Unfortunately, they’d figure it out pretty soon. And even if they didn’t, I couldn’t exactly fight without it. 

Stall. I had to stall until the paint came back. Shoving back the sudden rush of terror, I made my body pivot and hurled myself through the open doorway of one of the shops, falling onto my side in the process. The place was a shoe store, and I quickly scrambled to my feet to rush toward the back even as Juice’s voice filled the air, bellowing for them to tear the fucking place apart and drag me out. 

Right, well… I had their attention. They were definitely focused on me, most of them anyway. I just hoped it was enough for the other girl to free those prisoners and get them out of here. 

Cuz, really, I’d hate to have all this fun for nothing.

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