Through the post-midnight streets, a gray sedan, entirely unremarkable, made its way past building after building. The shops were all closed at this hour, their lights off and blinds tightly shut. Beyond the car itself, there were no signs of life here. Not even the occasional slumbering homeless person in a doorway, or stray animals sniffing around for any edible treats. This part of Detroit was completely dead at this time of night. Which was a bit odd, but the car's occupants weren’t going to complain.
“So uhh, help me out here, would you?” The question came from Ryder Towling, or Eits given he was in costume, as he sat in the driver’s seat. He wasn't actually touching the steering wheel or the gas, allowing his mites to do that work for him so the car could continue on at its leisurely, non-attention-getting pace. Instead, his gaze was focused on the other occupant of the car. She was a slim, attractive figure in a dark blue, almost black bodysuit. Across most of the front torso was a silver star-like compass rose symbol. A similarly silver arrow ran down the back of both arms, with the tip of each arrow across the back of her dark gloves. Over the sleek bodysuit, she wore an unzipped silver jacket. A matching dark blue mask covered her entire head, with a pair of silver-tinted lenses across the eyes. She wore a pistol on one hip, and was adjusting the sawed-off shotgun in her lap.
When Eits spoke up, Amber turned from the gun she had been examining. It held heavy bean bag rounds, while the pistol on her hip was full of tranquilizers. She wasn't in this whole thing to kill people. Quite the opposite. She wanted to stop a murderer.
“I thought I was already helping by coming along on this job, right?” She was teasing him, of course. Eits was a pretty cool guy overall, but still definitely fun to tease. He had this way of blushing that was just adorable, even if it was mostly hidden by the diagonal black and gold bands that crossed his face in an X-shape while leaving his mouth uncovered.
“You’re helping Blackjack and the team,” he reminded her. “What I want right now is more about answering a question. Your power, it gives you different, uhh… powers depending on which direction you’re facing, right? East, west, north, south?”
Shifting the shotgun out of the way, Amber gave a slow, curious nod. “Yeah, that’s right. Invulnerability, superspeed, teleportation, or intangibility for each of those. Why?”
With a shrug, Eits replied, “I was just wondering, how exactly do you end up with a name like Streets? That's what everyone's been calling you, Streets. I mean, I guess it's sort of vaguely map-like. But not really a gambling thing, and we’re all supposed to have gambling-like names, right? How do you take ‘gambling name that has something to do with your powers’ and end up with Streets?”
A very slight smirk crossed Amber’s face, not that he could see it under her own mask. “It’s actually Fourth Street. It’s the term for the fourth card dealt out in various types of poker games. You know, four different powers, and street adds the whole map feel like you said. On paper, my La Casa name is Fourth Street. But everyone just calls me Streets. That’s what stuck. I guess because it's easier. Plus, I come from a pretty decent family and go to a private school, so calling me Streets is ironic. You know how people are. Always think they're hilarious.”
Snorting softly at that, Eits gave a low murmur of agreement before asking, “So, wait. If you're from a rich family and go to private school and everything, why are you doing this stuff? Just for the thrill of it? I know it’s not cuz you like hurting people. You wouldn’t’ve joined this gang if that was it. Plus, I’ve seen the way you operate. You’re not a psychopath.”
“Gee, thanks,” she retorted before clearing her throat. “Yeah, I'm not a psychopath. This is the best way I’ve got to find…” Trailing off, Amber--or Streets, took a deep breath. Then she quietly explained about how her father had been killed by a hit-and-run driver who had stolen the car responsible. “The cops came up empty, and really didn’t seem to care that much. Blackjack’s gonna help me find the guy who did it. He’s already been working on it. We tracked down a few leads, even if they haven't gone anywhere important yet. But I trust him a hell of a lot more than the cops. He's been helping me. Actually, he said he--”
“The hit-and-run,” Eits interrupted with sudden realization. “Right, right. He had me digging through the authority’s files on that, trying to find out if they missed anything. But if you're that guy’s daughter, that makes you--”
“Hi.” Reaching up, Streets tugged off the mask and shook her dark hair out. “Amber O’Connell. Good to officially meet you. I think Blackjack expected this to happen. Seems like he doesn’t really force identity reveals, but you know. He prefers when we can all get along.”
“Uh, Ryder,” Eits replied. “So you're trying to find out who killed your dad, huh? That… that sucks. I mean, no, the reasoning doesn’t suck. The fact that--I mean that is--”
Despite herself, and despite the ache of pain at her own loss that sat heavily in her stomach, Amber still snickered just a little. There was that blush again. “I get it, don’t worry,” she assured him. “And yeah, not having my dad around does suck. It’s--” Swallowing the thick lump in her throat, she exhaled. “It’s fucking awful, believe me. But knowing that I'm gonna track that piece of shit down, that kinda helps a bit. Plus, I don’t mind the rest of this. Cops already proved they don’t give a shit about my dad, or about the rest of the people out there. So fuck ‘em. Blackjack and La Casa take care of their territory and the people in it a lot more than the cops do.”
Eits considered that for a moment before giving a slight nod. “Sure, I get that. Can't say I blame you for not trusting the authorities. I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I did.” He offered her a tiny smile then, just as the sedan pulled into the lot of a closed restaurant. “Uh, guess we’re here. Or as close as we can get this way.”
Amber’s attention was focused on the warehouse down the street. “Yeah,” she murmured, “don’t wanna drive right up to the place. Guards might be dumb, but they’re not that dumb.” That said, she opened her door and nodded toward the roof of the nearby restaurant.
“So come on, we’ll take the fun way in.”
*******
“Scales, Carousel, Whamline, report in. How’s it going out there?”
Rolling her eyes as the question came through the communicators in their ears, Dani Kalvers touched the button on her wrist that would connect her back to the Minority’s homebase. “Trust me, Syn, everything’s fine. We do know how to run a patrol without you hovering over our shoulders, you know. You can only do so much, even if there are four of you.”
The newest member of the Detroit Minority wore a dark green jumpsuit with brown boots, gloves, and cloak. The cloak’s hood was up over her hair, and she had a green mask over the lower half of her face that tucked into the collar of the matching jumpsuit. Her eyes were protected by a pair of dark goggle-like sunglasses. The strap wrapped around at the back of her head to hold them on and it was hidden by the hood of the cloak.
Syndicate, or whichever one of him was talking to them over the comm, replied flatly, “We do trust you guys. But it's still a good idea to check in. It may be quiet out there right now, but you never know when something will pop up. Trouble has a way of just… coming out of nowhere. Especially lately for some reason. With just the three of you out there today--”
“Ahem,” the girl known as Scales interrupted, “I think you mean seven of us. You didn’t forget my friends, did you?” Even while saying that, she was glancing around to take in each of her quartet of lizard companions. Riddles the bearded dragon-turned-eagle was flying high overhead, keeping a close eye on the dark streets below. Twinkletoes, born a chameleon and currently transformed into a gorilla-like shape, was crouched on the roof of the building just above them. When Dani looked that way, he shifted out of his invisible form and waved down at her with that goofy, endearing gorilla-lizard smile. The gecko known as Tuesday, meanwhile, was in his Capuchin monkey form, scouting ahead of the group. Though in this case, scouting was less about watching for bad guys and more about digging through trash cans just in case someone had left a tasty treat behind for him. But it was the thought that counted.
Those were the three lizards that Dani had brought with her when she joined the Minority. Finally, the fourth was one that the authorities had provided. Her name was Bumbershoot, the slang term for an umbrella. She was also the only member of Scales’ pack who was not transformed at the moment. Mostly because even in her original form, Bumbershoot was already rather enormous and intimidating, a nearly eight foot long, one hundred and fifty pound Komodo dragon. She was bringing up the rear, though despite her size, the large lizard was capable of moving quite quickly if need be. Given reason, she could reach a sprint of about twelve miles per hour. Which didn’t sound like much until it was a hundred and fifty pound angry lizard coming straight at you faster than the average human could run. And when she was transformed… well, that was a whole other story.
“You mustn’t forget each and every lizard,” Carousel piped up while waving toward Twinkletoes. “Or we’ll all ensure their ire is heard. Such great and useful friends. Be quick to make amends.”
“Yeah, dude,” Whamline put in, “I'm pretty sure the big one back there might eat you if you don’t play nice. And she doesn’t even have to use her power on it.”
“Her,” Dani reminded him. “I don’t have to use my power on her.”
There was a soft cough over the communicator before Syndicate assured them, “Don't worry, I remember them. And I'm glad they're out there with you. Still, check in every half hour or so, would you? And call if anything happens. That’s why I’m sitting here to coordinate things if something pops up.”
Dani’s head shook as she glanced at the two teammates who were with her. “I promise, Dad, we’ll check in and let you know if anything happens. But don't get your hopes up. I'm pretty sure this entire night is going to be the longest and most boring in recorded his--hold up.”
“Hold up?” Syndicate echoed. “What’s going on?”
“Just some lights on at the warehouse on Gratiot,” Whamline informed him. The three of them had all looked that way and moved a bit closer to squint. “Looks like one of the upper windows is broken, and we just saw a shadow move past.”
“I’ll get patrol cars on the way,” Syndicate informed them. “Might just be a couple kids screwing around, or--”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Or it might be more,” Scales finished. “You get the cops here, we'll go in and check it out. Probably just some idiots trying to have a party. If it is, we’ll scare them off. If not--well, we’re ready for that. Right, guys?”
“Speaking for myself and not your companions of the scaled persuasion,” Carousel chimed in, “I am quite prepared to explore this veiled invasion.”
“What she said,” Whamline agreed with a gesture that way. “We can do this. Send in the backup, Syndicate. We’ll be checking the place out. This is what we’re out here for, to help people.”
“I’m not sure how many people we’re helping by breaking up a party at some old warehouse no one ever uses,” Scales pointed out idly. “But sure, let’s get in there.” She was already starting to cross the street at a jog, heading straight for the small parking lot at the base of the window that had been broken.
Her other two human companions kept pace with the girl, while her quartet of lizards spread out to watch for any problems around them. Soon, they were standing together under that clear sign of forced entry, looking up into the dark, unlit area beyond.
“Well I know we saw a shape in there before,” Whamline whispered. “But it's so dark in there now I don't know how anyone could see anything.”
“There was a light,” Carousel murmured under her breath. “Though not bright. They’ve moved their encroach. Or perhaps saw our approach.”
Dani was nodding slowly. “They either moved away from this spot, or they saw us coming and doused the lights. Either way, we need to get in there and find out what's going on. First.” She held out her arm until Riddles landed on it. Tuesday the monkey lizard crept over by her leg and peered up at her. “You guys check it out, okay? But be careful. See there’s any bad guys or idiot teenagers trying to graffiti the place.”
As Riddles flew up to the broken window and Tuesday hopped and climbed his way after her, she watched from below while shaking her head. “Tell you guys one thing, if it is kids trying to have a party or screw around, I’m not wasting any more time on it. I didn't get into this job to play Gestapo.”
“Why did you get into it?” Whamline curiously asked. “Just had that pressing urge to save the innocent and protect the rule of law?”
It was Carousel who answered. “She wants to be rich and successful. Without doing much too distressful.”
“What can I say? She’s right.” Dani offered a casual shrug, still watching the window where Riddles and Tuesday had carefully poked their way through together. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind helping out the people who really need someone in their corner. That’s fine and dandy and all. I know what it’s like to be pretty fucking down in the dumps and not have anyone. Someone gets in real trouble, I’ll help out. But I feel like I can do that better with a Porsche and a big house, you know? I’m gonna make a name for myself here in the Minority and earn my way into Ten Towers. I heard their Touched make bank. I’ll get in there and start being really successful. Then I can help people in style. That’s the plan anyway.”
She heaved a quiet, thoughtful sigh and started to whisper something else, only to be interrupted by a loud crash, accompanied by a dangerous and familiar screech of anger.
“Riddles!” Scales shouted, gaze snapping up that way once more. The glass of the window next to the broken one shattered, as Riddles came tearing out with another loud screech. She was carrying a blood-covered gun in one hand.
A separate screech, this one from Tuesday, filled the air then as the lizard-monkey followed his partner through the newly shattered window. In his own hands, he carried what looked like an actual literal human arm.
“What the--” Scales started. Before she could get any further, a much larger figure dove out the window after the two transformed reptiles. It was a human. A human missing an arm. They nearly grabbed Riddles with the remaining limb, but Twinkletoes was hanging invisibly off the edge of the building and reached out to catch hold of the figure’s leg as they were in mid-lunge. Strong in his gorilla form, Twinkletoes threw the one-armed man down toward the three Minority Touched.
Scales, Whamline, and Carousel took in the sight in front of them. The man, a brown-haired figure of absolutely no unique features that would cause him to be identifiable (beyond the obvious injury), was clearly almost entirely unfazed by the fact that he was missing an arm. Quite recently missing, given the blood that was still gushing from the elbow where it had been ripped free by something. He straightened it to his feet after being tossed down by Twinkletoes, taking in the trio of Touched around him.
“Tuesday!” Scales called up while sounding completely taken aback and horrified by the whole situation, “Drop that arm!”
“Holy shit! Uhh, s-sir,” Whamline quickly put in while starting to step that way, “You should sit down. We’ll get a tourniquet or--”
His confused and uncertain attempt at medical intervention, however, was interrupted as a blurred form raced past the three of them. The dark blue-and-silver-clad figure rocketed to a stop in front of the silent man, shoved a sawed-off shotgun against his chest, and pulled the trigger before any of them could react. A loud boom filled the air as the man was blown onto his back.
Abruptly, the shotgun was torn from her grasp as Carousel extended her power that way, just before Whamline caught hold of her arms with two of his energy coils and hoisted the girl off the ground. Twinkletoes hit the ground directly in front of her, growling low.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Scales demanded, already dropping to her knees next to the maimed figure as she stared at the trapped girl.
“Streets?” That was Whamline, confused once more. “I didn’t take you for a killer.”
“They’re beanbag rounds, idiot!” Streets shot back. “And I was saving your lives!” Even if she said that, the girl vanished from his grasp, reappearing on the opposite side of the fallen man from where Scales was. “See?” She brought her foot down hard into his face once, then again. Then she reached down and tore the man’s remaining arm out from behind his back, where the group could finally see the knife that he had been pulling out. Even then, he struggled to sit up until she kicked him in the face a third time, then once more as hard as she could. It barely seemed to affect the man, given the way he rebounded off the pavement and started to shove himself up yet again.
“Fuck, stop hitting him!” Scales blurted. “Twinkletoes, take--”
Whatever order she had been about to give was interrupted as the man managed to twist himself out from under the other girl’s foot, lunging at Scales to wrap his remaining hand around her throat.
With a loud hiss of outrage, Bumbershoot was right there. The large Komodo dragon hurled herself at the man and knocked him away from her leader before landing on top of him.
“For fuck’s sake, listen to me!” Streets shook her head in annoyance, already flipping the knife around as she dropped to her knees behind the man’s head while Bumbershoot was still holding him down. “Look!” He was still violently struggling against being held down, while she drove the knife three times in rapid succession into his remaining arm and shoulder. He showed no reaction to any of it aside from continued attempts to twist and jerk his way out from under the Komodo dragon.
“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Scales was holding the man’s arm as Riddles had dropped it obediently at her feet. “Dude, are you like… are you immune to pain? Are you--I mean what--”
“He’s not gonna answer you, babe, trust me.” Streets informed her. “Look, I know this is gonna make you all freak out, but there’s not actually a quicker way to show you.”
“Show us wh--” That was as much as Carousel got out. Whatever she had planned on rhyming was completely cut off, as Streets drove that knife into the man’s head. A collective shout rose from the three Minority Touched, but faltered as the other girl shoved the knife upward, showing them the interior of the man’s head. A head devoid of any brain or blood, occupied solely by a silver orb with various wires extending down into the body.
“He’s not real,” Streets informed the stunned group while grabbing hold of the orb and ripping it out. “None of them are. Found that out the hard way up there before your other lizard buddies dropped in. This whole place is infested with these… things.”
“What the hell are they?” Whamline demanded, staring in stunned shock at the now-fallen man. He had dropped like a puppet whose strings were cut as soon as the girl tore the orb out of his head.
“Beats me,” she replied with a shrug, gripping the silver orb tightly. “Like I said, there’s a whole shitload of them in there. Like they’re guarding the place or something. We broke in cuz our boss thought there was some good stuff locked up inside. Given those guys, I’m gonna guess it’s really good stuff.” She eyed the three of them slyly. “You wanna help us liberate it from these guys? Split it fifty fifty.”
“Yeah, that’s a great way to become known as a hero,” Scales retorted while rolling her eyes behind the dark sunglasses. “Steal a bunch of stuff that doesn't belong to us from a warehouse guarded by a bunch of… weird… cyborg… things. What--wait, you said ‘we’ and ‘help us’. What do you mean by us?”
Eits cleared his throat, coming into view from the shadows while holding a clearly injured arm. “She uh, she means me.”
“Eits!” Streets blurted, “I told you to stay out of sight in case these guys tried to play hero and take me in.” She gave Scales a brief look. “Not that I’d object to handcuffs from certain people.”
“Right, about that,” Eits started before coughing. “I mean, not the flirting with the girl who wants to arrest us bit, the staying out of sight part. I’d’ve loved to, but we’ve got problems. You know how you were talking about all those guys who were guarding this place? Well, they’re not so much inside anymore.”
The others started to ask what he meant, before Carousel raised a hand to point. Dozens upon dozens, if not over a hundred figures, were walking off the grounds in every direction, on their way to the surrounding buildings.
“They’re robots, okay? Sort of, their brains are anyway,” Eits quickly put in. “I got one of my mites in one of them, and it turns out they’ve been given special orders to wipe out everyone in the area. Except that area was supposed to be ‘on the warehouse grounds’, but there was some sort of glitch and it’s been expanded a bit.”
“Expanded how much?” Scales asked, squinting that way.
“Uh…” With a grimace, the boy answered hesitantly, “By about two miles.”
Rising to her feet, Scales demanded, “Are you telling us those things are gonna kill every person within a two mile radius?”
“Because we fucked with them,” Eits confirmed. “Yeah. I--yeah. We set off some sort of alarm and the order came in to wipe out intruders. But like I said, there was a glitch and--”
“And it’s a hell of a lot bigger area they’re wiping people out in,” Whamline finished. “Call Syndicate, cuz we’re definitely gonna need that backup. The buildings around here are all businesses, but they’ll hit some living areas pretty soon if they keep going.”
“We can’t wait for the backup,” Scales insisted. “We have to get out there, we have to stop those things.”
“We’re the ones who set them off,” Streets put in, rising to her feet. “We might be thieves, but we’re not monsters. We’ll help you stop them. Right, Eits?”
“I uh, yeah, of course.” His head bobbed quickly. “I think I might be able to get into the main system and shut them down, but there’s still some of those things in there.” He gestured toward the warehouse. “Gonna need help getting through.”
“I’m on that,” Whamline immediately put in. “I’ll get the tech geek villain to the computer so he can shut these things down.”
“And we’ll do what we can out here,” Scales agreed, looking toward Carousel and Streets. “Guess it’s time for the secret weapon.” Even as she said that, they could hear shattering glass and cracking wood as the army of automatons began to break into the unoccupied businesses surrounding the warehouse.
“Secret weapon?” Streets curiously asked. “You mean better than your miniature dragon here?” She inclined her chin toward Bumbershoot.
“Oh, she is the weapon,” Scales confirmed slyly. “But as for the miniature part…” Reaching out to the lizard in question, she focused. Under her power, the Komodo dragon began to grow… and grow… rising in size. The animal that Dani had chosen to match her with was an African savanna elephant. Without any change at all, Bumbershoot was already almost eight feet long and a hundred and fifty pounds in weight. But at her full transformed half-elephant size, she stood a towering twelve feet at the shoulder, twenty feet long, and weighed over six thousand pounds. Her armored scales became even tougher, capable of standing up against full-on automatic rifle fire, and she could run a solid thirty miles per hour. Plus, on top of all that, she had the elephant’s deadly tusks matched with her own quite enlarged teeth, and the elephant’s signature trunk. Which was useful for allowing her to lash out and grab onto people who tried to run away from those aforementioned tusks and teeth.
“O-oh.” Staring up at the transformed figure, Streets gulped. “I uh... wow.”
“Yeah,” Scales confirmed. “So maybe think twice before trying to double-cross us.” She looked out to the surrounding buildings. “Now are we gonna get out there and do this or what?
“We’ve got some murderborgs to deal with.”