Volume 8: Telophase

Issue 3: A New Theater

Jannette Adrian Churchwell

By Nova

Cold, early morning air danced through my hair as the helicopter cut low between two forested hillsides. The pale light of dawn almost seemed to bleach the green pines below us, or was that just the smoke that hung in the air? No matter the cause, the pines appeared too close for comfort—our pilot had taken us way too low in my opinion. Was he afraid of getting shot down or something? It’s not like the First Way had anti-air missiles or anything…

Though—as we passed through the wooded valley—the bisected husk of a burned helicopter passed beneath us. A grim reminder that I couldn’t afford to underestimate the First Way’s capabilities anymore…

Beside me, Ripple stared at her right hand, tapping her fingers to her thumb in an irregular rhythm. She had just barely managed to squeeze a headset over her helmet, its glossy sheen spoiled by scratches from yesterday’s battle. “How are you liking the new arm?” I asked.

“It’s good,” she said, her voice crackling over the headset. She glazed my direction and smiled. “A little soft though.”

I shrugged. “Sorry. The skin’s brand new. It hasn’t gotten a chance to build up any calluses yet.”

Ripple chuckled. “Everything else seems about right. You even rebuilt my muscles exactly as I remember.”

“I just used your left arm as reference,” I said.

“Well, I’m just glad I don’t have to start my workout from scratch.”

I looked back out over the hills as the helicopter rose up over another ridge. Below us, I could now see what looked like the remains of an absolutely tiny town. Little houses below us belched smoke, while small piles of what looked like bodies lay in front of what might have once been a gas station. A handful of humvees stood parked around the town, and I could make out soldiers walking around, dragging bodies out of the piles… probably so that they could be identified.

I’d heard that the First Way had ravaged towns all around the Extinction Refuge, and—when we drove them out of Redding last night—plenty of these tiny mountain communities had turned into bloody massacres. The military was still discovering them as they slowly worked their way through Northern California’s rugged terrain. But what they had found was the stuff of nightmares: entire communities destroyed, families forced into firing lines, or twisted by some unknown power…

And worst of all, no one had any idea why the First Way was doing it. Maybe it’s cause they’d lost at Redding and knew they were fucked no matter what. Maybe they were lashing out. Maybe Red Queen herself did it after retreating last night…

“You get any sleep last night?” Ripple asked, shaking me from my thoughts just as the little town disappeared behind the hills, wilderness entirely supplanting it.

“An hour or two,” I lied. After Red Queen retreated, the rest of the First Way followed suit, vanishing into the wilderness north of the Extinction Refuge. Asteria went after her, and Seraph… I actually didn’t know where she was. Probably closer than I’d like… But, by the time Starlight and the military left to secure the Refuge itself, I was neck deep in healing Redding’s wounded. I had a chance for a break around three in the morning… But every time I closed my eyes all I could think about was Holly trapped by some dinosaurs or choking on sarin gas. I’m not sure I had any real rest by the time they told me I’d be on the next helicopter to the Refuge.

Ripple gave no indication whether or not she saw through my lie. “Thanks to you,” she said, “I got the best rest I’ve had in ages.”

I just nodded. A weird feeling had sunk into my stomach, like eagerness mixed with dread. We were mere minutes away from the Extinction Refuge, mere minutes from Holly, but… What if it wasn’t enough? What if I were too late? I tried telling myself again and again that I had done everything I could… But had I?

Maybe… if I told her how I felt, I could have convinced her to stay in San Francisco with me instead of going on that stupid field trip.

The helicopter turned past one final mountain. A wide valley spread before us. Paths and roads blanketed the ground below, cutting between what looked like delicately maintained gardens, geodesic domes, miniature towns, and—I swear—I even saw a pirate ship. But it was clear nothing down there was right. One of the domes had shattered, a few of the towns had burnt down to nothing but metal frames and blackened soot, and the gardens looked like they had been trampled down.

But we weren’t landing there. Beyond the delicate lattice of paths lay a row of tiny, artificial mountains. And, from beyond those,unfolded gentle rolling hills of brown grass and pine forests… As well as a network of tents, landing pads for helicopters, shipping crates, trucks driving down tight roads… All spreading radially from what looked…

“W-what is that?” I asked. In front of the camp below was something that looked a bit like a massive crater. It stretched to the other side of the valley, at least a few miles away, and the terrain inside looked… bizarre. Rolling hills were covered in what appeared to be pine trees, but not ones I recognized—too lush to be anything native to California. Between the hills, I saw fields of deep green, mixed with expanses of muddy swamps. And, on these fields and swamps… massive creatures loomed over the landscape. All of it slightly obscured by a shimmering field of blue that arced up and around the crater, forming a dome above it.

“That must be ‘Hell Creek,’” Ripple responded, leaning out the helicopter beside me to get a closer look. “The dinosaur zoo we’d heard so much about.”

I gulped. Holly was in there, I just knew it. The second we landed, I’d make a beeline for the entrance. Get in, find her, get her out. There’d be a lot of ground to cover, but with Ripple’s help… it would work out.

It had to work out.

The helicopter lurched downwards and in a moment we were on the ground, scrambling from our seats as soldiers barked orders at us. “Let’s clear the pad!” Ripple shouted at me.

We moved onto what was once a wide gravel trail, now muddy from the tires of God knows how many trucks which had used it as a road. Around us, hundreds of people rushed to and fro, carrying boxes of supplies or guiding trucks through the crowd. Behind us, our helicopter had taken off again—rising into the sky with shocking speed. It was just as quickly replaced by a massive, double-bladed helicopter, which lowered a shipping container onto the ground.

“Let’s get to the dino-” I started, but was cut off by a shout.

“Delta one-two?”

I turned to look where the shout had come from, and saw a tall, broad-shouldered soldier standing at attention. He had dark brown skin, wore a deep green camo, and had an impeccably cleaned rifle slung over his shoulder. “Stitch and Ripple, I presume,” he continued. “Where’s your third?”

“Mr. Mystery?” Ripple asked. “Back in Redding. He’s helping the local PD sweep the city for stragglers.”

The soldier nodded, then outstretched a gloved hand. “Sergeant Rhodes, Army,” he said.

Ripple shook his hand, “Nice to meet you,” she said. I did the same. “Happen to know where the entrance to the dinosaur jungle is?” she asked.

Rhodes shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but the shield dome’s on lockdown.”

“L-lockdown?” I asked. “You mean, you won’t let us in?”

“If we could let you in, we would. Hell, we’d already be in. No, the First Way did something when they took over the zoo’s systems. Don’t ask me what, I’m not one of the geeks working on it.”

“Then what can you tell us,” Ripple asked dryly.

“Dome’s locked down, no one’s getting in or out until we figure out how to break through it. Can’t tunnel either since the whole zoo’s fuckin’... hermetically sealed or something. So we’re sitting here playing the waiting game. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

“Then what can we do?” Ripple asked.

Rhodes pointed to her. “You can start sweeping our perimeter. We’re pretty sure we cleared out the last of the militia from the Refuge, but we need to be ready for a counter-attack from the Firsties. Report to Thunderbolt; he’s the one managing the supers for that op.”

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His finger then jerked to me. “You though… I’ve been told they’re expecting you down at field hospital. Follow me.” Without waiting for a response from me, he turned on his heel and began marching down the road.

I turned to Ripple. “I-I guess I’m going…” I muttered.

She nodded. “Stay safe. I’ll try to find you once I’ve finished my sweep.” Smiling gently, she squeezed my hand before—after a moment to charge up—she leapt high into the sky.

I scurried after Rhodes, who seemed to know a pattern within the chaotic mess of tents around us. Soon, we came to an area laid out with more order than the rest of the camp. Row after row of tents stretched before me, with more being set up in the far distance. Hundreds of medics between them, carrying supplies, tools, or carrying people on stretchers over the dirt ground. It was chaos, pure and simple, and a mounting sense of horror overtook me as I realized there had to be thousands of casualties.

And thousands more if I didn’t get to work fast.

Sergeant Rhodes led me to a short doctor in a dusty lab coat. He had cropped black hair and warm, copper skin. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days and was entirely consumed with swiping through the tablet in his hands. “Dr. Guterres,” Rhodes said to him, “I’ve brought you some relief.”

He looked up at me, wide-eyed. “Thank Christ,” Guterres said. “You must be, uh…” He swiped through his tablet a few times. “...Ah, yes, Stitch. Let’s get you started,” he said, skipping any formalities.

Rhodes nodded towards us. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, and vanished into the crowd of medics and patients without a word.

Guterres didn’t skip a beat. “You’ll start in tent ‘Charlie One,’” he pointed at one of the largest tents, near the center of the field hospital, striding towards it. “The patients there are in critical condition—we can delay the inevitable but without you they won’t make it.”

I stumbled after him. “W-won’t make it… What happened?” I managed to ask as the doctor stopped to take a breath.

“Sarin gas, didn’t you hear? Most of the worst cases died before we could get here, but even partial exposure can be deadly. Everyone in these tents will need to be checked for it so we don’t let anyone back into the world with permanent nerve damage.”

I nodded. I’d read a few medical journals about the long-term effects of sarin gas exposure before, such as permanent nerve damage, and Guterres was right. The doctor stopped in front of the big tent, Charlie One. “You aren’t working alone, but the other healer we have can’t fix the deeper damage like you can.”

“O-other healer?” I asked. I hadn’t heard about this.

Guterres nodded. “You’ll meet her in a second. Report to me when this tent is cleared.” Before I could say anything else, he had vanished into the crowd.

I carefully pushed the fabric over the door aside and stepped into the tent. Immediately, I was greeted with row after row of beds, each one with a patient. The tent was noisy with the sounds of shouting nurses, ventilators, and the occasional moaning patient. At the center of it all stood a black-clothed figure.

I studied her as she leaned over one of the beds, inspecting a patient. She wore long, flowy robes—snug at the waist—while a wide-brimmed hat sat atop her head. A white, ornithic mask concealed her face; it had the large, unmistakable beak of a plague doctor.

My eyes went wide as I recognized her. Miasma… Portland’s nightmare doctor.

We had never crossed paths before—she’d never even been to California before as far as I knew—but I’d heard about her powers. While it was true that she was a healer, she wasn’t Portland’s nightmare because she could heal people…

Now she stood before me: Miasma, the villain who spread decay and decomposition across Oregon.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been standing in the tent opening—staring dumbly at her—before she noticed me.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. She straightened herself up. “You’re Stitch.” Her silk-gloved hands clasped together as she strode toward me. “Wow! Big fan of your work.”

It took me a moment to process what she had just said. Fan of my work? What was that supposed to mean?

Coming from a villain, I almost believed it to be sarcastic—then, at the same time, she said it so matter-of-factly that I wasn’t entirely sure. But, even if it wasn’t a joke, how could I possibly take it as a compliment? If a villain liked “my work”... What did she mean?

My heart sunk in my chest. Was she referring to all the times my powers facilitated Seraph? Helped her torture some common criminal…

If Miasma had noticed my apprehension, she didn’t show it. Instead, she reached her hand out to me.

Without thinking, my hand moved to take hers. I stopped myself as I realized what I was doing—that, even if Miasma had been brought in to help, she was still a villain—and for an awkward moment my hand froze in the air before us. As the round eyes of her mask stared at me in anticipation, I realized that it was too late—too weird, too awkward—for me to not shake her hand. Hesitantly, I took it.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said, her voice surprisingly warm. “I’m Miasma.”

My powers flashed through her, detecting elevated dopamine levels firing off her neurons. Her breathing was quicker than it should have been, like her lungs were working overtime… But, weirdly, her respiratory system seemed healthy—except, there was an irregularity… Additional pores across the lung tissue? Feeling like I was probing into places where I shouldn’t, I reigned in my power. “Um, h-hi…” I stammered. My cheeks ran hot, and I hoped my face mask was enough to hide it.

“So glad you’re here.” Still locked in her handshake, Miasma laid her other hand to rest on top of mine. “There’s something you should see.”

Now, holding my hand in both of hers, she gently pulled at me. Stunned, I followed her deeper into the tent. She led me—as if it was the most natural thing in the world—to one of the beds, before she let go.

“Look at this little guy,” she said, pointing to man lying on a bed; a ventilator hooked over his mouth. “He’s got acute sarin exposure. Poor dude can’t even catch his own breath.”

I glared at Miasma. “That’s not funny,” I said.

She threw up her hands. “Who said it was? Fucking tragic if you ask me.” She paused, relaxing her arms at her sides again as she stared down at the man. “No, no, no, just letting you know that I can’t do much but delay the inevitable.”

As she stopped talking, I heard her exhale; deeply. Green smoke seeped out from the beak of her mask. It spread slowly around her, rolling over the patients around us—over me. As soon as the first particles struck me, I suddenly felt energized. I let the smoke wash over me, my powers telling me that every cell those strange molecules hit got a boost of ATP, a rush of energy that was speeding along cell division, repair, strengthening my immune system…

“Wow,” I gasped, the exhaustion from my sleepless night suddenly leaving me. I blinked, feeling like I was caffeinated for the first time since I got my powers four years ago.

“You like that, don’t you?” Miasma asked—taking a step closer to me—an edge of mirth in her voice. I couldn’t see her face under the mask, but I was pretty confident that she was smirking.

I suddenly blushed. “L-let’s get to business,” I stammered. I reminded myself that, no matter how refreshed her powers made me feel now, she could just as easily do the opposite. She was only here for her own reasons. What those were, I couldn't be sure of, but I could imagine. Villains only really helped out during crisis situations like these when it benefited them: usually in the form of a get-out-of-jail free card. “W-what did you want me to do?” I asked.

Miasma sighed as the green smoke began to dissipate. “Basically, my powers are keeping these guys alive, but that’s it. The sarin’s caused too much damage to their nerves, destroyed a bunch of their neurotransmitters. For most of them, it’s been too long for Pralidoxime to be effective, and Atropine isn’t going to do squat about tho-”

“Wait,” I said, “y-you know your stuff.”

“Is that a question or a compliment?”

“S-sorry, it’s just that I didn’t really expect-”

“Hey,” Miasma placed her hands on her hips, “I’m educated, maybe even professionally.”

“You went to med school?”

Miasma laughed. “Maybe,” was all she said.

I stammered incoherently for a few seconds, not sure what to say, before I took a deep breath. “A-alright, alright,” I said. “If we’re too late for any conventional treatments, that means the damage is permanent.”

“Right, which is why I’m only good for keeping them alive.” She leaned in close to me. “You, on the other hand, can do the impossible.”

“Regenerate their nerves, rebuild as much of their system as I need to…”

“Bingo! I’ll hold them together while you work your way down the hospital. Should only take us, uh…”

I cast my gaze around the rows of patients packed into the tent. “An hour or two… Maybe… for this tent.”

Miasma slapped me on the back. “We better get to work then, huh?” she laughed and—as a green haze began to pour from her mask—she disappeared into the cloud of smoke.

She was right. I turned to the patient and immediately set to work. I laid new lines of nerves, repairing what didn’t need to be replaced. On the first few patients, I made sure to give them a full bill of health; clearing bruises, knitting together broken bones, zapping tumors where I saw them, and even fixing cavities. But, by the time I moved on to my tenth patient, ten minutes had already passed. I looked over the tent and its rows of patients. Miasma’s green smoke hung over dozens and dozens of bodies; only the occasional low moan of agony showing any sign of life… I realized I didn’t have time to waste.

So I started cutting corners. By the time I made it to the twentieth patient, I was only repairing the nerves and bones. By the fortieth, I skipped those too. I realized that a splint could fix a broken bone. Only I could rebuild their nervous system.

It was a monotonous routine, but one punctuated with a mounting sense of dread as I realized the scale of the crisis. There was probably no more than a few hundred people in this tent and, as I worked my way to the last patient, they were only the beginning. How many thousands of potential casualties were there? I hadn’t seen any reports, didn’t have time to really…

And Holly, was she in one of these tents? Or, in a pile of body bags…

A sudden bang shook me out of my routine as the whole tent trembled.

“What the fuck was that?” Miasma shouted, emerging from the fading cloud of green smoke.

“I-I don’t know, it sounded like an-”

“Explosion!” Miasma finished. She rushed out of the tent. I was close behind her, making it outside just in time to see a dark cloud of smoke fading along the side of the shimmering blue shield dome.