Red stained the sink as several used gauze pads lay scattered around. First aid wasn’t Carmen’s specialty, but she had to make do with what she had.
Turning the faucet on, Carmen allowed the sound of rushing water to calm her mind as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She needed to make sure she didn’t put any weight on her wounded leg for the next few days, not after that fucking kid had managed to land the luckiest shot of his life.
“Tricky little shit,” she thought miserably. Not only had the kid managed to escape from her twice now, but he managed to hurt her this time. To add salt to the wound, his impromptu girlfriend had knocked her out.
Sat on the edge of the toilet, Carmen gently prepared to change her bandages, smearing a layer of biogel on it to help speed up the healing process. It had only been a day, and the wound was already showing signs of improvement. It was still fresh, and she would need to change the bandage a few more times. Risking a trip to the hospital where she’d face questioning on the injury wasn’t worth it.
She just needed to get through the week.
Carmen hissed as she applied the bandage and began to wrap it up again. Once finished, she would need to clean up, then it was back to the living room to ice the damn thing until she could forget about the pain. That, or pass blissfully into a deep sleep.
“Fucking kid,” she muttered under her breath. “What the hell do we need him for anyway? It’s not like he could have done anything useful.”
Bonesmith had been the one to give the order. She had been working as a store clerk at a clothing shop. When the call came, she wasn’t allowed much time to prepare. Finding her manager was frustrating enough, but explaining that she needed to take an extended impromptu break required some verbal gymnastics. It was supposed to be a quick snatch-and-grab. The kid was alone. How hard could it have been?
Evidently, pretty fucking hard.
For her efforts, she had received a debilitating wound to the leg and had to flee the mall entirely. When her boss called her an hour later to ask where she was, her only excuse was that she suddenly felt violently ill and had to go home. It was a miracle she hadn’t been fired on the spot. Thankfully, her next shift was three days away, and she should be well enough to conceal the wound. By then, Carmen’s boss wouldn’t be so angry.
With the bandage tightly wrapped, Carmen stood, using the side of the bathroom sink as a crutch. She slowly cleaned everything up, disposing of the bloodied materials before limping toward the kitchen. All she wanted to do was put ice on the damn thing and let her brain rot while watching some crappy TV.
As she limped toward the kitchen, her ears picked up the lounge television with what sounded like a sports replay. Carmen’s eyes narrowed. The only other person in the house was her grandmother, who was upstairs fast asleep.
With a slow, controlled breath, Carmen allowed the atmospheric shift to swallow her. The world around her blended like wet ink smudged by a cloth, colors spiraling and dripping. With every movement she made, she left streaks in the air. The world around her turned into wet paint, and her passage mixed it. She didn’t walk when she used her power. Instead, she glided through reality like she was ice-skating across the ground. Initially, controlling her movement had been difficult. Controlling what she wanted and did not want to pass through had been grueling, but she had grasped it with practice. Nowadays, any movement was as easy as walking.
Retrieving a knife from the kitchen, she drifted into the lounge and saw a man sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream. He was smiling at the television, shoveling spoonfuls of the delicious treat into his mouth. Carmen identified him immediately, but before she could act, a sharp pain stabbed at her head. Her world spun, and she would have fallen if she had not caught herself on the table after releasing the control she had over her powers.
The world solidified, and the house’s stale scent assaulted her senses.
“Sneaking up on me, hm? Now what did I do to deserve such treatment?” The condescending voice asked. “Am I not a guest in your home, chica? You should show more respect.”
Carmen seethed as she steadied herself on the table. Mirage’s power gave her crippling headaches if she was still using her power. Carmen was uncertain as to why it worked that way, but the pain was preferable to the fucked up mind prisons he was able to trap people in. The kind of damage that could do to a person she’d seen first-hand.
“What are you doing here, Mirage?” Carmen grounded out impatiently. “You know you’re not supposed to be here. What if my Grandmother saw you? How the fuck am I supposed to explain that?” She then gestured to the TV. “And turn that shit off, it’s three in the morning! You’re going to wake her up!”
Mirage chuckled.
“Relax, relax! I was just catching the end of the game, we’re playing well tonight!” he picked up the remote and muted it. “There. No sound, no wakey-wakey, and I still get to see the end. We all win.”
“No, we don’t all win. What are you doing here?” Carmen all but hissed. “You were meant to guard the supplies and if Grim finds out you’re flaking on him, we’re all fucking dead. Go back there and do your fucking job!”
“Ah… caramba, you are cranky tonight,” Mirage rolled his eyes. “There was a bit of an incident and it got a bit too hot,” he said, his smile widening. “Want to guess who came knocking? I want to give you three guesses but I think you’re smart enough to only need one.”
She didn’t need three guesses.
“That fucking kid and his friend?”
Mirage’s smile widened. “Ding ding ding! Just like I told you eh? They always come back.”
“Yeah-yeah, they always come back and you just let them walk away,” Carmen seethed. “You had them dead to rights, didn’t you? I know how your fucking power works. You could have had them screaming and clawing their eyes out. I can only assume you let them ransack the place as well since you’re here and not there. So what did you let them take for your oh-so-grand master plan?”
Mirage kicked back on the couch, leaning into the cushions and crossing a leg over his other knee.
“Some high-grade stuff that the boss man wanted. Masquerade's people have been working with their moles inside the ECU to get their hands on some of the good stuff,” Mirage shrugged. “I tried to take a peek inside but it’s locked up too tight. I know how to break people, not boxes.”
Carmen suppressed the urge to shudder while the man casually continued to eat.
“You just let those kids take the stuff?”
“I did,” Mirage said, looking proud of himself. “Que emocion! It’ll be a grand show. You see, once Grim hears that the local cult went and stole his precious tech, he might actually do something for once. With Nemesis licking his wounds, it should be enough to get him to act. Never thought I’d see the day, The Reaper coming out of retirement.”
“You’re going to implicate Pandora?” Carmen’s anger began to subside as the pieces clicked together in her head. “This isn’t going to end well. Grim’s already on edge with all this Masquerade shit. If he does something drastic, things are going to end badly.”
“Badly?” Mirage pursed his lips as if the word had left a sour taste in his mouth. “It’s a matter of perspective, little ghost. Conflict is universal and peace is only temporary. All I’m doing is giving a little push to help things along.”
Carmen narrowed her eyes. “What do you get out of this, exactly?”
“Entertainment, for one,” Mirage said simply. “But it’s all part of nature. We thrive off fights. It brings change and innovación. People like us can’t afford to be the spearhead, we’re not strong enough – not powerful enough. Ah—!” He stopped her before she could open her mouth to cut him off. “—But smart enough? Hm, that’s the real test isn’t it?”
“Jesus Christ, speak like a normal person you psycho,” Carmen growled. “You tryna start a war here? I joined The Cains because I wanted some fucking freedom and safety in numbers. Grim’s the biggest, baddest, piece of shit in town and nobody was supposed to mess with him. I wanted that guy on my side and now you’ve dragged me into your suicidal coup.”
Mirage laughed. “Grim’s on nobody's side, chica. He’s a bomb, tick tick tick. Might as well set the fuse and get it over with, at least then you know when he’s going to blow.”
“By pitting him against Pandora. Yeah, fantastic idea,” Carmen rubbed her head, exhaustion from the day wearing her down. “What do you think they’ll even be able to do against him? Liberation has been trying to boot him out of the city since he arrived and everyone’s seen how well that worked. Grim’s not going anywhere.”
Mirage's smile curved, and a glint in his eye told Carmen he knew something she didn’t.
“Pandora won’t be able to do anything except buzz around like flies,” he admitted. “But tell me, why would I fight my own battles when I can get other people to do it for me? Much more convenient, no? Besides, like I said, timebomb,” the smile never left his face. “Last I checked, bombs don’t discriminate.”
It wasn’t just Pandora he was trying to pit against Grim. It was everyone. If everyone dog-piled him, then maybe they would have a chance. She hadn’t the slightest clue how he could pull that off, and she doubted Mirage would indulge her curiosity. It was already unusual how much he had shared tonight.
Mirage finished his ice cream, leaving the bowl on the table as he stood up. He cracked his neck and shook his arms as if to loosen up.
“Gracias. The ice cream was good. I never took you for a vanilla kind of girl.”
Carmen swallowed, the casual tone unsettling her. “Why did you come here?”
“To talk. Which we have,” Mirage said, walking over toward the dining table. He reached to the side, grabbing a briefcase off the floor before laying it flat on the table. “I see you kept it. Chica mala… you said you were going to hand it off?”
Carmen felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. “Why would I give it to Grim’s allies when we’re supposed to be working against them? I might as well keep it. It’s just some stupid little chip but it has to be worth something. It’s Mechatech.”
Mirage chuckled lightly but didn’t say more on the topic. Instead, he turned, giving her a knowing smile.
“That’s why I like you.”
Carmen shuddered.
Mirage continued. “You don’t have to worry about our boney friend. I plan to get him out soon. He might not be our biggest fan but he can see the tide changing.”
“The ECU already have him,” Carmen countered. “They’ve got him locked up in their Citadel. How are you going to get him out?”
Mirage just grinned.
“I’ll walk up, knock, and ask very nicely.”
----------------------------------------
Banshee was in far too deep to back out now.
She could run, sure, escape the city with clever uses of her power and be long gone within a couple of hours. However, there was a glaring issue. Her grandmother wouldn’t do well traveling so quickly, and she couldn’t just leave her behind. Banshee had too many attachments to Bayside to consider escape as an option.
The ECU wasn’t an option either. Her criminal record stretched back to when she was a teenager. Banshee couldn’t count how many times she had been in and out of police custody before she awakened and got her powers.
It hadn’t been an easy life growing up.
“That was a mistake. All we achieved was making a fool of ourselves.”
The words had come from Bonesmith, but Banshee shared the sentiment. The meeting that Gaea put together was a waste of time. To make matters worse, those kids had been sitting at the table. They called themselves ‘Madhouse’. Ridiculous name aside, they had recruited two more supers to their corner since their last encounter with her and Bonesmith.
It frustrated her to no end. Why were they even allowed a seat at the table? They were kids, and this was adult business.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Despite the potential problems, Mirage wasn’t concerned at all. He found the whole situation far too amusing. He had split after the meeting, leaving her and Bonesmith to sort out the few young independents he had recruited. Banshee didn’t want to know how Mirage managed to accomplish that. Half of them didn’t want to stick around after hearing what was at stake.
A war against Grim? Everyone had lost their fucking minds.
“Mirage has some screws loose,” Banshee muttered, peeking out through the curtains of one of their safe houses. This little splinter cell they had going on was scarce on resources and manpower. If Banshee was honest, she wasn’t sure if the people on their side were actually loyal or if Mirage had twisted their minds to make them think they were. “This isn’t going to end well for us.”
“No,” Bonesmith admitted bitterly. “They usually do not when he is involved.”
Banshee figured there was some history between them. They never seemed to get along, but Bonesmith always kept his distance and – begrudgingly – respected Mirage.
“What are we supposed to do then? Because I’m all out of ideas,” Banshee looked toward the man who had been the one to bring her into The Cains. He had been the one to recruit her – the one that preached about the Brotherhood. Right now, they seemed like two different people. “Come on, fuckin’ say something.”
Bonesmith growled.
“What do you want me to say? I can lie and say I have a way out if that’s what you want. Grim’s mind has been twisted by false promises and I have every reason to believe that Mirage had a hand in it. He would have never been so careless before… I warned him about The Iron Maiden and her subordinates. Did he heed my advice? No!”
The man was leaning over in his chair, hands pressed together. Banshee could hear the bones cracking and shifting beneath his skin, which should have caused severe pain, yet the man did not flinch. He stared at the floor through the eyeholes of his smooth white mask.
Banshee moved away from the blinds and began to pace about the room. She needed a safe way out of this, one that didn’t involve getting put away for life by the ECU. She had nightmares about what place they’d throw her into. Would it be the facility at the bottom of the Mariana Trench? What about the isolation facility at the South Pole that Deadlocked helped create? Worse still, there was always the prison Ajax claimed to have, tucked away on his orbiting space station. There were some horrible places to end up when you were a Super.
“You were in that meeting as well. Shit’s going to hit the fan and I don’t want to be around when it happens,” Banshee said, giving her senior super a flat look. “From the looks of it, you don’t want to either. Whatever’s left of The Cains will be cleaned up and we’ll be easy pickings, just like the little bitch said.”
“I’ve been left with nothing before,” Bonesmith’s voice rumbled. His fingertips dug into the leather of the chair, and Banshee could hear it beginning to rip. “I will endure.”
“Well, good to know you’ve got things figured out on your end,” she muttered quietly. “I wish I knew what that bastard wants. He’s got to know that everything will just burn and he’ll be left with nothing.”
“Mirage is the type of man to burn a city just to feel its warmth,” Bonesmith’s voice took on a regretful tone. “He is twisted, broken beyond all repair. If death was unavoidable, he would drag everyone around him down with him, and he’d laugh doing it.”
That didn’t surprise her in the slightest. Mirage had been one of the strangest supers she had ever met. His eccentricities were too outrageous to ignore, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.
“Then we just find a way to kill him. If we get rid of him then all this goes away.”
“As enticing as that sounds, it is not that simple. Much like Grim, he does not allow himself to be vulnerable,” Bonesmith explained. “When he rescued me from ECU captivity, he was able to evade their security with ease. He is crafty and creative. His power isn’t just illusions. There’s a deeper element to it… something that taps deep into the subconscious.”
“You’ve tried before – to kill him that is,” Banshee said, noting how easily Bonesmith explained it. He had clearly thought about this many times – and judging from his tone, he had tried. “Given that he’s still alive, I doubt you were very successful.”
“Some men are too difficult to kill,” Bonesmith grunted. “Others are just not worth the effort. If you want my opinion, I think it would be best to move on.”
Banshee's eyes narrowed.
“You think we should leave while we still can?”
Bonesmith sighed and looked up at her.
“There is no ‘we’.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Banshee demanded. “You’re just going to leave me drifting all on my own? Fuck that! What’s your plan? You’re the one with all the strategies—”
“I have nothing!” Bonesmith’s arms cracked and shifted into blades before he unleashed his anger, ripping apart the chair until it looked like shredded ribbons. Once finished, he allowed his arms to change back to normal, his chest heaving with every breath. Banshee noted his calmness return, but there was a tenseness to his body. “When I came to this city, I planned to follow Grim. I figured I could learn from him and better myself. He was an admirable man. Now…” his head hung with despair. “Now I do not know where to look.”
“Well, you could start by looking at me,” Banshee snapped. “Because staring at the floor and moping around isn’t fuckin’ helping anyone,” she shifted her tone, giving the ex-pirate a flat stare. “Look, the way I see it, we’re getting railed from both ends. If either of us doesn’t figure something out soon, that nutjob is going to drag us into hell. You said it yourself; he’ll destroy everything just for a laugh.”
Bonesmith’s gaze hardened.
“You believe this to be my problem?” He scoffed. “I have no attachments to this city. I will leave, the moment Mirage’s guard is down.”
“And go where, exactly?” Banshee hissed.
“That is for me to know,” Bonesmith replied.
Her knuckles turned white.
“If that’s how things are going to be, then that's fine by me.”
----------------------------------------
Carmen knew the fighting began the moment sirens blared across Bayside.
She had been home all day on account of losing her job. All the extra work Mirage had been requesting led to a brief phone call from her boss to inform her. It was a miserable job anyway, and she hated every second. Besides, she had bigger things to worry about. The city was about to implode, and she was stirring freshly brewed tea for her grandmother.
When the sirens started, Carmen had led her grandmother down into their basement. Initially, there were protests that she was too paranoid, but Carmen knew what was coming. Grim would be out in full force, and Bayside wouldn’t survive the night if nobody stopped him.
With her grandmother safe – as much as she could be – Carmen sat in the lounge, dressed in her gear. She ran a thumb over the Phantom of the Opera-style mask she used as part of her outfit. The TV was on, and she was following live coverage of the chaos. Pandora was on the warpath, and it was only a matter of time until the request for her help came through.
Carmen had no clue whether or not Grim knew of Mirage’s coup. She hadn’t spoken to or seen The Reaper in over a month, his business with Masquerade having consumed him entirely. There was every possibility that he was aware, which would explain why he hadn’t spoken with her.
Still, she kept her phone on the coffee table, waiting for the potential call. As time passed and the sun dipped, it became clear that Grim was aware that she was an enemy.
“I should have left while I had the chance.” Carmen mused. “It certainly wouldn’t be too farfetched. Like mother like daughter, I guess.”
Staring down at the mask, the desire to leave weighed on her. Without Carmen, her grandmother had no one, and she wouldn’t last very long by herself. Carmen knew what she wanted: to get out of the city and go somewhere else to start anew.
It was a selfish and disgusting desire, just like a majority of her life choices up until now.
Something needed to change.
Carmen eyed the briefcase in the corner of the living room – the one she had taken from Upgrade. It only held some kind of chip, Mechatech. All she had to do was find a way to sell it, and she’d be set for a good while, potentially for life, depending on what it was.
Unfortunately, those resources were not available to her.
Carmen sighed just as her phone buzzed. She looked over at it, eyeing the caller ID.
“After tonight, I’m done,” Carmen promised quietly.
She reached over and picked up the phone.
“Where do you need me?”
“I’m sending you the address. Would you believe that our little troublemakers have been hiding out in Groves Den?” Mirage’s voice came through. “Thought it would be best to have a little bit of a look around. Thought you'd like to come.”
“I don’t,” Carmen replied, fitting her mask to her face. “But I don’t think you’d call me just to make the offer.”
“Ah, don’t be like that chica! We have fun here. Just make sure you bring the briefcase. I have a little idea.”
Banshee suppressed the urge to hiss, her eyes locking onto the briefcase. “I don’t have it anymore.”
“Ah, there’s no need to lie. See, you’re no good at it. Just bring it.”
“I sold it,” Banshee insisted. “I needed quick cash—”
“Mentirosa! Bring the fucking case!” Mirage’s aggravation exploded without warning. “Do not think you can lie to me. I’m not stupid, you hear? Do as I say.”
The line went dead, and Banshee almost kicked the coffee table out of frustration. She was about to lose the one thing that could have let her start over.
Strolling over, she snatched up the briefcase and left the house. The moment she stepped out of the door, she activated her power and disappeared into the night. She walked for over an hour, avoiding any streets with too much activity. Even though her power concealed her from the physical world, there were powers out there that could detect her. With all the supers on the streets tonight, there was no point in taking the risk.
When she arrived at her destination, she found Mirage staring up at a decrepit apartment building that looked like it would collapse at any moment. It didn’t help that the damage to the exterior looked recent. It looked like some big animal – or a super – had tried to get in.
Mirage was standing casually at the street’s corner next to Bonesmith. It made her curious as to why the ex-pirate was still here. He insisted that any relationship or partnership was over and that skipping town was his priority. Maybe Bonesmith was attempting to try and kill Mirage when his guard was down. If that happened to be the case, then she would gladly lend him assistance.
Appearing before them, Mirage clapped his hands.
“There she is, my favorite ghost!”
She tossed the briefcase at him, the box clattering to the ground at his feet.
“There, have your stupid fucking briefcase.”
Mirage, unbothered by her tone, bent down to pick it up. “Your kindness is greatly appreciated.”
His false sincerity made her sick.
“This place,” she pointed to the decrepit apartment building. “This is where they’ve been operating from?”
“According to him,” Bonesmith said, eyeing the illusionist. “Not sure how he managed to figure it out.”
“Hm… how does the saying go? A magician never reveals his tricks,” Mirage replied, amusement coloring his tone. “Why don’t we go and have a little look? I’m curious to see what our little friends have been up to.”
“Be my guest,” Bonesmith said with an edge to his tone. “But I’m not setting foot inside that place. I’ve been near enough Mechakinetic workshops to know that going in one is near suicide. I don’t care how new Upgrade is to the scene. I’m not in any rush to die, but by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
Mirage laughed and jabbed the man in the shoulder. “Aha! I see Ajax took your balls as well.”
Bonesmith didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he just took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “We’re done. I’m not playing your games anymore. Everything has fallen apart and it’s all your—!”
His words stopped dead, and his breath halted. Banshee watched as the man seized up and collapsed, convulsing on the ground. Every few seconds, he twitched and released a pained wheeze. Banshee watched as Mirage casually walked over and stood above him. The man’s lips curved upward, and he slowly shook his head.
“You okay down there?” Mirage asked, lightly kicking the man. He turned and looked at Banshee, who refused to meet his eyes. “I think he might’ve forgotten to take his medication this morning. That’s a shame. Oh well, he can stay out here and keep watch.”
Mirage turned around and began strolling across the street, whistling a tune. When he realized Banshee wasn’t following, he turned and gave her a flat stare.
“You too? Is there some kind of disease going around that I’m not aware of?” Mirage asked. “Come ooooon! It’ll be fun, I promise. I’m sure there will be all sorts of things you can loot. This thing?” He lifted the briefcase and jiggled it around in front of her. “This’ll be a joke compared to what he’s got locked up in there.”
Banshee’s gaze flickered between Bonesmith’s convulsing body and Mirage.
“He…” She would have lost her nerve if she wasn’t used to seeing such cruelty growing up. “He just said that Mechakinetic workshops are dangerous. I don’t want to fucking die in there, Mirage. The kid’s already humiliated me twice.”
Mirage rolled his eyes. “Do you really think I would ask you to come with me if I didn’t know it was safe?”
Yes.
“No… no of course not.”
“Then let's go already!” His jovial attitude made her want to jump off the nearest bridge. Instead, all she could do was numbly walk forward. It wasn’t like she could escape with her power. She remembered what had happened when she tried the first time. “There you go, one foot in front of the other.”
“Don’t fucking patronize me!” Banshee snapped.
Mirage smirked.
“Aha, so testy. No need to get so upset,” he said. “You know this is how I am.”
“Unfortunately.”
She just needed to get through tonight, and when the dust settled, she could get her grandmother out of the city, her health be damned. Banshee couldn’t afford to stay in Bayside. If she did, she knew she would end up dead soon.
She needed a new identity and a way to reinvent herself.
Maybe… maybe she would have to take her chances with the ECU – but not here, not in Bayside. Caldon would be a good place. The Nine Circles ruled Ashton out entirely, and Zachery Port was dealing with a sinkhole problem. Although, she guessed The Nine Circles would be The Eight Circles now, given that the ECU terminated Lust. That left a spot open for a new Lust.
“I’d like you to do something for me, after tonight,” Mirage started. “There’s a few things I would like to set into motion but I am only one man. I would do this myself but your skillset is far more suited to the task than mine.”
Banshee’s brow rose beneath her mask as he led her into the worn-down apartment’s underground car park.
“What did you have in mind?” Her curiosity spoke for her.
Mirage waited a few moments, his features giving off a more serious look.
“Have you ever been to Ashton?” He asked, his lips curving upward. “I think you might like it up there, lots of excitement recently I hear.”
Banshee paled.