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GENERATION X vs. THE BLACK PACK Part Three: "...And War." written by Multi-Facets and Z 0xxxx)>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>j>
Z sez: This story is dedicated to the good fickers, and those who want to be good fickers! ;-)
M-F sez: Dedicated to Lady Saint-Croix, Brawl, Bizzy, Little Horn, Z, and everyone else for being such good sports about this whole thing.
Paige screamed for all she was worth.
It was a scream so intense, so wrought with utter frustration and total hopelessness that Jono could not help but identify with it instantly. He burst through the half-open door, his lower face and chest bubbling over with a virtual corona of psychic energy. Part of him expected to find Paige's near-lifeless body doubled over on the carpet, a melancholy silhouette against the picturesque bay window, the casualty of a bullet from the gun of a still lurking Black Pack member. Most of him, however, knew better. What he did find was only slightly less shocking. In a huddled mass of limbs against the far corner was Jubilee and Monet, seemingly petting and cooing to a hysterical Husk. These three together under ideal circumstances was peculiar, at best, but to see the self-absorbed Valley Girl and the somewhat heartless Ice Princess holding and comforting the humble country girl was unsettling.
A part of Chamber wished he were the one comforting Paige. *Wha' happened?* he questioned no one in particular.
"Th- they- they-" Paige blubbered.
"They smashed her family picture.… You know, the one taken before her dad died," Jubilee explained in a whispery voice.
Jono knew that photograph well. During better times, times when he and Paige had been at the very least on speaking terms, she had counted it as her most valued possession. In the dim light of the moon he could see it clutched in her hands. Shards of glass and broken frame lay scattered on the floor before her. Chamber crept closer. He could see a sizable gash down the picture's center, just to the left of the place where Sam and Paige stood. A rift, it seemed, had been torn between those two and the rest of their substantial family. The face of her father was smeared with what Jono knew must be fresh blood, from the slivers of glass still biting at Paige's fingers, no doubt. He started forward, hands extended in a kind gesture, but chickened out when Husk's eyes rose to meet his.
Abruptly, Angelo and Everett rushed through the door. Skin huffed and puffed, bending over to brace his hands on his thighs. "We rushed all the way.… over from the other side of the quad," Synch said breathlessly, copying his friend. "We heard somebody scream.… What happened?"
"Our interlopers damaged Paige's prized photograph," M began. "Most likely it was nudged off the nightstand while they were ransacking the room."
Angelo gave her an awkward look. His eyes grew to caricatured proportions at the sight of Monet demonstrating any hint of human compassion. As if on cue, she removed her arms from Paige's shoulders and stood up smoothly.
There was a thud from behind as the door drifted open for a third time. They all turned at the sound to see Emma supporting a staggering Sean. One of his arms was draped around her neck and his legs stepped wildly and without purpose.
"I'm sorry to hear of your loss, Paige, but you are not the only one suffered." Emma spoke deliberately, but not without concern. "The bulk of my jewelry, as well as a significant portion of the schools' assorted decorative sundries, are missing."
"They got into me-" Sean coughed, rubbing his neck. "Got into my personal quarters, cracked the lock on the fire-box.…"
"Save your voice, teach," Jubilee advised, still stroking Paige's hair.
"Yes, Sean," Emma agreed. "You can give us your verbal account after we've had you examined."
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"… and the way you capped that old guy, DAMN that was sweet!" Gloria exclaimed, waving her hands madly.
"It was, wasn't it?" Tawny teased.
The warehouse hideout of the Black Pack was alive despite the late hour. The members were still basking in the afterglow of a greatly successful heist. Music blared from the stereo and its echo ran like an angry poltergeist through the cavernous halls. Sphinx stood with Sureshot and Hotwire, listening intently to the goings-on on their side of the robbery, while Jumper and Flame gathered from the kitchen cabinets the makings of the world's largest bowl of popcorn. Thunder leaned smugly against the wall, his chest out and his hands folded neatly. He literally swelled with pride over the fact he hadn't fouled up on this mission. Surely that would earn him some respect.
The only noticeable absence from the festivities was Wraith. Though he had closer friends on the "team" (Leon, for example, and Tawny.… if you could call what they had friendship), it was Hotwire who first counted him absent. As Sphinx recounted the high-jinks during his leg of the raid, Gloria tried to place her missing colleague. He had come through Jumper's portal with them, that was certain, and he had emptied the contents of his backpack into the great pile of booty that still lay amassed in the floor of the central room. He had, she thought, even perched himself on the great windowsill located beside the bases main entrance, as he was apt to do during these unofficial powwows. She excused herself and approached that darkened window. On the sill she found one of Zed's many ashtrays and an open beer bottle. The ashtray was empty, making it an oddity seeing as how Wraith seldom emptied them, and the beer bottle was full, but still cold. Surely it hadn't been discarded by some Pack member at an earlier date: No one else drank that brand of booze. Gloria's curiosity took over.
As she clanged up the metal stairway, she couldn't help but notice the unreal feeling that crept over her. From the fading voices of her newfound friends in the midst of a victory party, to the eerie shadows cast through the dirty skylights.… that night had a very dreamy quality about it that made her both blissful and uneasy.
By the time she had topped the stairs, the echoes of her companions had all but disappeared. They were replaced by a grainy, hollow sound, accompanied by the strum of a guitar. The girl followed the sound down the corridor to the entrance to Zed's room. She knocked on the door.
"C'min," a tired voice spoke from the other side.
The door creaked open and Gloria peeked in. Zed sat Indian-style on the carpet in a pair of torn-up work pants and an aged white tank top. Another ashtray rested on the floor between his knees. A banged-up acoustic guitar was propped against his chest. Behind him, in the dimly lit room, a turntable spat out melancholy verses. In a thieves' den of untold riches, he was the very picture of poverty.
"We missed ya downstairs," Gloria chirped.
"Didja now?" Zed questioned. His voice was strained, as if he was trying his very best to project his normal, cheery demeanor, and failing in spite of himself.
"Well.… uh," Gloria fumbled, "of course. You're part of the team, you know.…" She searched for the properly convincing words, found them (even though they were lame and she knew it) and added, "and the family that plays together stays together!"
"Yup, just part of the team."
"So, whatcha listenin' to, old-timer? Velvet Underground?"
"So close," Zed said with a slight grin, "yet so far away. Johnny Thunders, actually."
Hotwire regarded him with a vacant stare.
"Of the New York Dolls…"
Another blank stare.
"Influential proto-punk gods of the NY club scene…"
Sill another clueless stare.
"Rocked like men, dressed like women.…"
"Doesn't sound like a cross-dresser to me."
"He's not a.… Ah, screw it."
The two regarded each other blankly across the expanse of the room. The wind whistled outside the window as the voice from the record player explained that you can't put your arms around a memory. After an immeasurable time, the thick silence erupted into a jumble of frantic laughter.
Zed sat his guitar down, rose to his feet and approached Gloria.
"For God's sake, Glor, come in here," he said between giggles, "yer makin' me paranoid hangin' 'round my door!"
Gloria strolled in to the room and slumped down on a crumpled beanbag chair, still exploding into cackling laughter at irregular intervals.
A familiar smile spread out across Wraith's face; it made Hotwire feel much more comfortable. "So what really brings ya up here, kiddo?" Zed asked.
"I guess I was just wonderin' what was up with you," Gloria said thoughtfully. "Here we are downstairs rockin' the house, and you're up here listenin' to.… I don't know what kinda music you call that."
"Thinkin' music. It's thinkin' music, Glor," Zed chuckled as he reclaimed his place on the floor.
"Sounds more like drinkin' music to me, old man."
"Same thing, I s'pose."
"So you're just up here thinkin', hmmm?"
Zed nodded as he slid a cigarette into his lips. He offered the pack to Gloria, who waved her hands to decline. "Yup. Just up here thinkin' and bangin' away on the ol' guitar."
Gloria raised an eyebrow. "That reminds me: Didn't Tawny get you a shiny new axe after the job at that museum?"
Zed ran his fingers through his dark hair. "She did, she did indeed."
"I thought so," Hotwire said smugly. "She told me she had a special present for ya. Of course, I thought she meant the little peep show she gave ya in the showers the other day!"
"Ouch! Gloria, you're one heartless little girl," Zed said with a pain in his face that was both genuine and comical, and quickly became surprised. "Waitjusta-dangminute…. she told you about _that_?"
"Girls talk, y'know," Gloria replied pointedly.
"I s'pose they do."
"And I am the only one here remotely close to Tawny's age, so it made talking easier."
Zed exhaled with a ring of smoke. It drifted toward the ceiling and dissipated. "So.… how pissed was she about that?"
"Not very, surprisingly. More weirded out, I think."
"Weirded out?"
"Weirded out."
Again silence descended. The stylus of the record player whirred through its last few rotations of the album before stopping with an audible click. "Why the hell don't you get a CD player like everyone else in the world?" Hotwire inquired, hoping a well-placed insult would again lighten the mood.
"Don't like 'em. You're not really hearin' music, y'know? It's all zeros and ones," Zed retorted.
"A little afraid of change, are we?"
"A little."
Gloria snorted a laugh. "All you're hearing is vinyl when you listen to records."
"Point," Zed laughed, then hoisted himself up and offered a hand to his friend. Gloria took it and forced herself from the beanbag chair's unearthly grasp. "Is that why you're not playin' your new guitar? Not ready to give up old reliable?" Hotwire inquired, dusting beanbag peanuts from her pants.
Zed cracked his back and twisted his neck from side to side. "You could say that."
Gloria squinted her eyes, questioning him without uttering a word.
Zed nodded towards his unmade bed. In an instant, Gloria saw something she had missed the entire time she and Wraith had been conversing. Atop the mass of sheets and pillows sat Tawny's present. It was, even to a layman like her, impeccably crafted. A bottle of lemon oil polish sat next to it wrapped in a towel rag. Zed had obviously spent more time cleaning than playing it. Even in the darkened room, the instrument shone like a new-minted penny.
"Ya see, sweets, sometimes things just don't fit," Wraith explained. "And no matter how bad ya want 'em to, no matter how bad you need 'em to, you just can't make 'em fit."
"So what d'ya do then?
"Beats the hell outta me, Glor," Zed laughed. "Let's go downstairs and grab a bite. I'm starvin'."
-----------------------
"Altogether, we lost over five-million dollars' worth of things, including jewelry, electronics, and objects d'art," Emma said in disgust, throwing down her pencil and rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"Oh, man," Jubilee moaned. "It's official: This sucks!"
*It more than sucks, Lee. I would say what it really is, but I'm in mixed company,* Jono said sullenly.
"When did that ever stop you?" Paige muttered.
"Children," Emma barked warningly.
"We should call the police," Everett suggested, trying to divert Emma, Paige and Jono from a fight.
"We can't," Sean told him. "It might bring up too many suspicions, and we cannae have that, especially now."
"Then what do we do?" Jubilee pestered.
"We upgrade the security, for one thing," Emma firmly informed them. "And then we prepare ourselves for another such attack. I'm certain the Pack will try to get more riches from us."
"As in returning to the scene of the crime?" Jubilee snorted. "Frost, only amateurs and actors do that."
Emma glared at the girl. "It is simple logic, Jubilation: We are rich. The Pack is greedy. Therefore, they will return," she bit out.
Angelo shrugged. "It makes sense to me," he said.
Sean nodded in agreement and stood. "Skin, ye and me will work on the security," he declared. "The rest of ye can clean up, and we'll join ye once we're done."
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Meanwhile, at the warehouse….
Gloria and Zed had reached the downstairs just in time to see Tawny and Leon dancing to Toni Braxton's "You're Making Me High". The boxer was behind the markswoman, swaying and running his hands up and down the thighs of Sureshot's sleek leather pants, while Tawny reached up to caress Sphinx's neck as she swayed too. Haley, Sandra and Greg were hooting and making cat-calls. Gloria whooped at the dancers' possible flirting, and checked Zed's reaction: His face was a bland mask, but Hotwire guessed he didn't approve.
Leon caught a glimpse of Wraith out of the corner of an eye. He craned his head slightly in the direction of the stairway and raised an eyebrow, casting a questioning and somewhat guilty look at his friend. Zed felt a heart-punch that he tried his best to ignore. He made his way past the spectacle and again took a seat on his windowsill perch. She ain't got my name on her, bro, he projected to Sphinx. Sphinx nodded and continued to shimmy.
The song ended and Tawny turned around, slapping Leon on the shoulder in thanks before striding over to the radio and turning it off. "Hey, I was listening to that!" Sandra complained.
"Sorry," Tawny said not-so apologetically. "Listen Pack, I've been doing some thinking."
"Don't hurt yourself," Gloria teased.
Tawny ignored that. "I think we all need s'more action soon," she stated thoughtfully. "Not to mention the bucks aren't gonna come rolling in by themselves."
"So whadda you saying?" Zed asked.
Tawny waited until everyone was near to share her thoughts. "I vote we go back to the private school," she announced. "We got a lot of great stuff last time; imagine what we could find this time?"
"And people say I'm nuts," Flame said flatly.
"What?!" Tawny yelled, raking the woman with a furious glare.
"We shouldn't go, Boss," Sandra told her firmly.
Tawny laughed derisively. "Oh yea, like I'm supposed to listen to the crazy bitch with the fire fetish."
"Tawny -er, Boss- we were almost caught last time," Thunder protested, coming to Sandra's defense. "Going back to the school is completely insane!"
"For once, I gotta agree with Greg," Wraith stated.
"Has Hell just frozen over?" Hotwire wondered, shooting a glance at the Southern man.
"Shaddup, wire-worker," Zed snapped.
"That's BEYOND the point!" Haley yelled, trying to set things back on track.
"What is the point?" Tawny snarled.
"The point is, going back to that school is crazy and we aren't gonna do it," Leon answered curtly.
"Fine," Tawny growled. "I'll go by myself."
"Now I know you're crazy," Sandra sighed. "And I know I'm crazy too, 'cause there's no way you're going alone."
"Someone's got to cover your butts and get you there," Haley added.
"And shut down the security again," Gloria put in.
Tawny grinned. "All right! Girls' night out," she said.
"Now hold it, sweets," Zed protested. "You can't be serious!"
"I'm dead serious, _sweets_" Tawny flung back, putting a very sarcastic spin on the last word.
"Wait, wait, wait," Greg groaned. "That place is too big for the four of you to handle. I'm coming too."
Sphinx sighed. "I'll go, to make sure Thunder doesn't mess anything up."
"Hey!" the former gang member was quick to protest, and just as quick to shut up when Leon gave him a glare.
Tawny grinned again, pleased her ploy had worked so well. But there was one more nut to crack. "Well, Wraith? You gonna miss out?" she challenged.
Zed didn't answer. Tawny inhaled, nailing him with a steely glare, but knowing he wouldn't be meeting her eyes. A tense moment passed and Wraith finally caved. "All right, all right," he moaned. "Someone's gotta watch your backs."
Tawny let out her breath and smiled evilly. "Good. We strike tomorrow afternoon."
---------------------
Sean huffed as he hoisted the heavy floodlight above his head. Angelo steadied the ladder with one hand and extended the skin of the other up to provide the Banshee with some much-needed assistance. Sean unholstered the electric screwdriver from his toolbelt and began securing the light into place.
"So how did you get this stuff rewired so fast, teach? Are you some kinda closet home security enthusiast or sumthin'?" Angelo quipped, trying to lighten the mood.
"Actually, these are just peripherals for our existing system. They're 'plug and play', ye might say. Yet another benefit o' bein' in cahoots with the great Hank McCoy." Sean tightened the last screw and made his descent. "That was the last of 'em. Let's make our way back to the control room and see if all these new toys were worth the time it took to get 'em all in place."
With the flick of a switch, the security system hummed to life. Sean pecked in his access password on the keyboard to his left, and the surveillance screens encircling the room flickered on. Angelo noted the image of the one directly in front of him. He could see Jono and Everett outside their dormitory, sweeping up broken window glass. Suckers, he thought. In another screen he saw Monet and Jubilee stuffing trashbags overflowing with debris into a green Dumpster. In the background he could see Paige, moping along behind the others, dragging a solitary bag.
Sean saw the same sad sight and attempted to distract himself with some idle chatter. "So, Angelo, what d'ye think?"
"That depends. Am I gonna hafta be the guy watchin' all these damn screens 24/7?"
Sean grinned slyly. "Oh, boyo, you underestimate our system!" He typed in another command and the board in front of them lit up like a Christmas tree. "No one has to watch anythin'! These new cameras work in tandem with motion sensors and those dandy security lights we just wired up to create a massive defense network! Any unexpected visitors try tae sneak into this campus and Emma an' I'll be wise to it before they can drag their back halves over the fence!"
Angelo gave his teacher a amused look. "You really dig this stuff, doncha?"
"Ye bet yuir boots I do," Sean replied with a laugh.
----------------------
A long time of cleaning up had given way to a restless night. Though Jonothon really did need to sleep (despite speculation), he knew he would be awake all night. He pulled on his leather jacket and he shuffled toward the door. It creaked weakly on from its hinges as it opened into the night air. He started to cut across the lawn and make a beeline to the atrium, but he hesitated. With all the new security measures in place he was apt to trip an alarm. That would surely wake the entire campus, and things were tense enough without another sleepless night. He walked slowly, silently, deliberately. His boots lowly scratched against the paved walkway he dared not leave. It had been quite some time since his last late night walk, but the darkened path was still familiar.
He made his way from the boys' dorm all the way across to the main administration building. There he cut across the narrow, snaking path to the gym facility. From there he passed the girls' dorm and began the homeward leg of his journey.
It was at about this time that Jonothon became keenly aware he was not alone. Under normal circumstances he would have thought it nothing more than another insomniac out for a bit of fresh air, but in light of recent events, Jono assumed the worst. He slowed his medium-paced trot to little more than a crawl. He could hear the plop-plop of the approaching figure's footsteps heavy in his head. He could hear the swaying of cloth and the breathing of his unseen follower. Chamber tugged at the loose bandages that covered the vacant spot where the lower portion of his face used to be. Ghostly light poured from the crevasse, illuminating the surrounding area in a violently brilliant crimson and yellow light.
Paige stopped, startled at the sight of a now-crouching Jono before her. Her eyes met his and the air grew thin. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them, and Jonothon re-covered his deformity. *Sorry gel,* he said, trying to apologize. *I guess I'm a bit jumpy.... with all that's gone down lately.*
"It's okay, Jono," Paige replied quietly. "I couldn't sleep either."
Jono cast about his mind for something to say. *Would you like to walk with me?* he asked finally. *I wouldn't mind the company.*
Paige gave a faint half smile. "Sure," she said, and fell into step with him.
*I'm sorry about the picture,* Jonothon sent a few minutes later. *I know it meant a lot to you.*
"I can get a copy from Momma and a new frame. It's no big deal," Paige replied a little stiffly, wondering if Jono was patronizing her again.
They walked on, falling into silence. *How're your hands?* Jono asked, still trying to make conversation.
"They're okay," Paige answered, crossing her arms and tucking her hands under her elbows. "They're not even worth the trouble of husking them healed."
Jonothon wasn't fooled. An incident with a few broken mirrors some time ago had taught him getting glass embedded in your hands could be extremely painful. With sudden quickness, he grabbed Paige's arms and pulled them forward, his grip ending at her wrists as he turned her palms upward. Myriad cuts criss-crossed on Paige's fingers, red and tender. It had to hurt.
Suddenly Jono noticed something about his own hands: They were glowing. Not very visibly, but enough to shock him. Quickly he let Paige go and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets so she wouldn't see.
"You're patronizing me again," Paige growled.
*Uh…. S-Sorry,* Jonothon stated, trying to put his mind straight.
Paige gave him the "God-but-you-are-a-scumball" look, and stalked away. Jono mentally kicked himself, then pulled his hands from his pockets and stared at them. They were…. fine. There was no glowing, just calluses from hours of playing guitar.
Jono stuck his hands back in his pockets and wondered if the stress of the recent events were just making him see things.
----------------------
Tawny had always been a night owl, and tonight was no different. She was one of the few who seemed to be able to function on very little sleep (Not exactly a mutant ability, she'd thought more than once, but it'll do.). Long after most of the other Black Pack members had returned to their quarters for a night of peaceful slumber, she often amused herself by watching late night programming on the enormous television that dominated the great room downstairs. This she did tonight with a feeling of great peace. And why not? Her little team had become quite the lucrative endeavor. They'd made a massive profit from their high-profile heists, and would no doubt make much more. Plus, channel 68 was showing a "Dark Shadows" marathon. All was right with the world.
Mostly.
"Barnabas Collins! What a ornery undead bastard!" a uniquely Southern (and uniquely slurred) voice spoke from behind her. "Trying to come to grips with the fact that he's a monster from the past. Sorry state, a sorry state indeed."
Tawny almost started at the sound. She hadn't heard Zed come in. In fact, she hadn't even noticed him leaving earlier. She started to beat herself up over the error, but refrained when she remembered that Wraith was just that: a ghost, a silent assassin by trade, therefore gifted with the ability to slink around undetected. "So where're you coming back from at this late hour, cowpoke?" Tawny said, trying not to let on she'd been taken by surprise.
"Ah, here an' there. M'stly there. There's tons o' fun to be had o'er there," Zed responded.
"And lots of booze to be had as well, apparently," Tawny retorted. Not that she could really disapprove: She liked a good drink now and then, even if she was underage. "I thought you'd given up the sauce."
"Yup, well, sometimes you fall offa th' wagon. This time I jus' 'appened to fall offa the wagon and hit my head on the bar," Zed answered dryly.
If only he were joking. Sureshot noticed a puffy gash below Zed's right eye. In her mind's eye she saw their first meeting. He'd been drinking that night too, probably for the same reason he had this time. He had intrigued her so; she could only imagine all the challenging things he'd done, all the exciting things he'd seen. He was old beyond his years, as was she. That might explain the chemistry between them, the force, the attraction.
Tawny pushed all concern from her mind and voice as she spoke. "This was a helluva time to fall off the wagon. If you botch our job tomorrow because of a hangover, I swear I'll kill you!" she snarled.
"I don't get hangovers, miss oh-so-strong-and-worldly! One of the perks of bein' an alcoholic, I s'pose!" Wraith snapped.
The two stared at each other intensely, angrily. Their eyes locked together as if by magic and magnetism. Tawny wanted desperately to touch his face, to let him know that he truly meant something to her, something beyond being her psychological strongman, but she could not. Zed, meanwhile, only wanted to kiss her pouty lips. He would have tried, if only his breath hadn't reeked of bourbon and menthols.
Zed finally broke the steely gaze. "I'm goin'a bed," he muttered as he turned toward the stairwell.
"Good," Sureshot said, trying to recapture her anger. "You need a nap, just like any disobedient child!"
"Look who's talkin'!" Zed barked back.
Tawny let out a frustrated, almost-snarled "Oooooo!" and turned her attention back to the television. The TV scene had shifted from Collinwood to the local tavern. She tried to remember the name of the fictional pub, struggling to get her mind off the events that had just transpired.
"The Blue Whale," a voice remarked loudly from the top of the stairs.
"Excuse me?" she reflexively replied.
"The bar is called the Blue Whale," Zed called back.
There was a moment of shock as Sureshot realized what he'd just said; what he'd just done. A puzzled look crawled across her face. There was obviously much more to this man than she had initially anticipated.
Tawny quietly -but potently- cursed her stupidity. She'd underestimated Wraith. In the end, that could either endanger the Pack or finish everything.
---------------------
The air was tense with anticipation as the Black Pack got ready to roll. Everyone was suiting up, testing equipment, priming power. They were looking forward to this job, all thinking of what they would get from it. Jumper's head was spinning from the digits and dollar signs dancing around her brain, and Hotwire was hoping to pirate some technology and use it to upgrade her laptop. Thunder saw the job as a chance to build up the team's respect for him; Sphinx thought of it as a way to make a profit for his little brother. Sureshot was already craving the action and riches the robbery would bring, and Flame was hoping she would find some pretties to call her own. As for Wraith…. Well, who knew what he was thinking.
"Fall in, Pack!" Tawny called, striding into the center of the rec room. "Is everything ready?
"All systems are go, boss-lady," Hotwire chirped, folding her laptop quickly and tucking it into its case.
"And the gang's all here," Thunder added, trying his best to feel a part of the group.
"Wait a minute, we're aren't all here," Sphinx boomed. "Where's Zed?"
Sureshot, noticeably shaken by the realization her point man was absent, tried to laugh off the idea. "Country boy not here, huh? Probably nursing a hangov-"
"Present," Zed's voice snapped from behind the group. His eyes were bright and his hair was wet and plastered to his head from a recent shower. All the effects from his staggering intoxication merely hours ago had apparently been washed down the drain.
Tawny abruptly noted Zed's attire: Typical loungewear, with ratty jeans and boots, topped with a ribbed tanktop that showed his tattoos and battle wounds. The red bandanna that he used to cover his lower face was tucked into his left back pocket. The cut under his eye had been carefully swabbed with ointment.
Flame eyed his exposed flesh and then compared it to her own armor- covered form. (Well, as armored as one could be with mid-thigh boots, a mini-dress, a mask and ruby-studded gold gauntlets.) "You can't go out in that," she cackled, "you'll catch your death!"
"Yes, Wraith," Tawny began, silently proud she had recaptured her heartless attitude, "care to get dressed and join us, or are you planning for an early retirement?"
Wraith ran his hands through his damp locks, shaking them frantically and showering the immediate area with second-hand bath water. Thunder and Hotwire scooted away from the impromptu downpour. "I'm all ready to go, sister, ya'll just say the word," Zed stated, obviously ignoring Sureshot, who sniffed in irritation.
"Look at my boy," Leon chuckled, "goin' out there gansta style!"
Zed slapped his friend on the shoulder, "Redneck style, m'man," he quipped with a wink. He strapped on his shoulder holsters and pulled a Hawaiian-print shirt over it to conceal the piece. With the addition of his trusty shades, Zed looked more like a tourist or sleazy PI than a supervillain.
Sureshot was tempted to argue, but that would have been pushing her luck. "Well then, kids," she called, her rapier wit again intact, "if we're all ready to go, let's do this."
Jumper made her way to the center of the room and motioned toward the portal that sprang to life in a single grand gesture. "Right this way, ladies and gents," she crowed excitedly.
A smirking Tawny was the first one through. This is gonna be good….
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Generation X had, for back of a better phrase, "phoned it in" today. They had all attended their classes, ate lunch in their designated place in the quad, and participated in a particularly rigorous training session, but none of them had done it with anywhere near their usual measure of heart and dedication. They had all simply gone through the motions, and now, in that place between late day and early evening, they lounged uncomfortably around on the large granite steps of the Academy's central building.
The silence was thick and uneasy, but its brittle grasp was shattered by the utterance of seven simple words:
"What the Hell is wrong with us?" Angelo thought aloud, drawing the distended skin taut around the thin bone-work of his face.
The usually high-strung Jubilee answered somberly, without ever lifting her gaze from the small yellow yo-yo she was attempting fruitlessly to master. "We got are butts handed to us, Ange," she started, "we got beat on live television, and then we got ripped off in our own home."
"But that kinda stuff's never stopped us before," Everett piped up. "We've gotten spanked by supervillians dozen of times, but we've always come back for more."
"But these were not supervillians, Everett," Monet interrupted, "they were uncouth young adults!"
"So that just means we got an even better chance than usual!" Skin exclaimed.
"How so?" Monet asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean, hell, people, remember how many times Emplate smashed us before we finally got the better o' him? It's like, the worse we get wasted, the better our victory when we finally do get it!"
"Oh my," said Monet, slightly surprised, "that almost borders on profound, Angelo."
Even the others were beginning to feel their spirits lift. Jono and Page (who had avoided each other even more than usual if such a thing was possible) turned their attention the heartfelt oration of their comrades.
"We're Generation X, and we thrive in the face of adversity!" Synch added.
"You may have a point," Jubilee said with a nod.
*Like a phoenix rising from the ashes,* Jono composed.
"Like a willow tree, bending but not breaking at the force of a gale.…" Paige chimed in.
Angelo, too, felt the spirit. "Like that last little bit o' ketchup in the bottle, and you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze but it just don't seem to wanna come out, but then, like, you bang is against the table a couple times and then you hold it upside down until it kinda sliiiiiiiiiiiides.… What? What!?!? You all know what I'm talkin' about, right?"
Even the mute Penance looked puzzled at that one.
"I think what the brain-child was trying to say is that we shall overcome adversity," Monet stated, reinvigorating the group.
"Just let that Black Pack show their faces around here again," Synch exclaimed, driving his left fist into his right palm.
It was at this point that the door behind them flung open.
"Children," Banshee began, "we've had a breach in sector seven, inside the perimeter fence on the far side of the woods. Get yuir gear on and let's check it out!"
-----------------------
The Black Pack shuffled through the familiar surroundings. Sureshot lead the others in a tight triangle formation behind her. She couldn't help but feel like the leader of a pack of wolves on a hunt; it was that feeling that invigorated her.
"All right guys and gals, split up and let's see what mischief we can make! Thunder, you take Flame and patrol the far side of the forest; if there's any costumed kiddies around, you take care of 'em in any fashion you wish. Jumper, take Hotwire around the back of the Admin building. Crack that egg open and see what we missed last time. Sphinx, you and I'll go right down the middle, give 'em a direct frontal assault. Wraith, you hang back in case there's trouble. Any questions?"
"Yeah," said Wraith with a grin, "can I have a little kiss for luck?"
"Sure, " Tawny smirked. "Go for it, Sphinx."
Sphinx puckered his lips and made a smooching sound at Wraith. The team laughed heartily at the spectacle. Zed waved his hands in protest. " I like you, bro, just not in that way."
"You know," Leon said to Flame and Jumper, "he only want me for my body."
Tawny irritably grabbed him by the ear and led him along behind her like a child, and the others followed suit. Zed looked around for a moment, and, once he was sure he was alone, pulled his makeshift mask down and deposited a cigarette between his lips.
Thunder had taken no more than a half-dozen steps before he ran headlong into something unbelievably hard and sharp, something with quills and claws that bit straight through his armor to the skin underneath. He yelped in pain and threw the red-skinned creature away from him with all his might. Penance struck the ground hard and split the earth open upon impact.
"I see that you've met my sisters, oaf!" Monet called, willing her body closer to ground-level. "They weren't present at our previous engagement, but I'm sure you'll find them to be quite fascinating."
"I think this broad's crazier than you, Flame," Thunder bellowed.
"Yeah, she's.…" A flash of realization took Flame off guard, and she looked up at her partner, slightly hurt.
Penance, who apparently felt this was the perfect time to re-introduce herself, tunneled up from beneath the duo, knocking them off balance and leaving them lying in a small fissure.
Monet looked down at her fallen adversaries, "Care to surrender now, or should we play another round?"
Flame answered by forcing a wide and intense spout of fire from her narrow fingers. The flames cracked into Monet chest, but when the smoked cleared she still stood unhurt and unshaken.
"Is that the best you can do?"
"Look out! Here comes the Calvary!" Jubilee's voice called from behind her. A moment later a hail of bullets pounded M's back. While the projectiles did only minimal damage to the girl's dense flesh, they did knock her off balance enough to send her tumbling down on top of Thunder and Flame. "Sorry M," Jubilee muttered as she leapt over the crack.
A moment later, Sureshot followed. "Hotwire! I thought you shut off the security!" she squalled. In a flash she dropped the empty clip from her pistol and replaced it with a fully loaded cartridge.
"I did!" Hotwire yelled back. "Guess someone spotted us."
>"When I catch you," Tawny screamed, "I'm gonna fill you so full o' holes your own mamma-"
A shiny fist struck Sureshot's jaw before she could finish the thought. The strength of the blow nearly forced the bones from its sockets, but thankfully Tawny was made of tougher stuff. Still, pain so intense caused her to fall to her knees and release her marksman's grip on her gun. It would prove to be but a minor setback.
"Hi there," a glistening silver Husk taunted. "Remember me?" Before Tawny could answer, she nailed her with a kick to the ribs. Paige was a kind and compassionate soul, but her compassion for the Black Pack had long since disappeared.
"Nice shot, school girl," Sureshot spat through gritted teeth. "Too bad you won't get another!"
In a flash Tawny grabbed her gun and released a shot into Husk's sleek torso at point-blank range. To her dismay, the girl showed only the smallest amount of damage; a dent in her gleaming frame. Sureshot cursed.
Jubilee was, however, not out of the woods yet. She found herself standing face-to-chest with a mountain of man. His steely eyes peered down at her from beneath a scattering of dreadlocks. She turned to run the other way, only to run into him again.
"Can I help you, little girl?" He questioned sarcastically.
"No," Jubes quipped, "I just wanted to give you this!"
A shower of sparks shot into Sphinx's face. He stumbled about blindly, angered at his carelessness. Flame noticed and leaped in front of the pyrotechnic. "You are so going to pay for blinding my Sphinxie!" she yelled, and flung a cone of fire at the girl, who dodged.
While this was going on, Skin and Synch swung down from atop a high tree by distended skin. They landed with a light thud behind two very angry looking young ladies. Everett drew his synchronistic aura in close around him, sloughing off Angelo's powers.
"Good evenin', ladies," Skin quipped, "care to dance?"
"But of course," Hotwire responded with a resounding punch to his grey-skinned chin.
"Well," Skin said, rubbing his jaw, "somebody's off my Christmas card list!"
"I don't wanna hurt you," Everett said, reaching toward Jumper.
"Silly boy," the usually silent villainess replied with a sneer, "you have to catch me first!"
In a flash, Jumper disappeared beneath a pillar of light. A disoriented Synch found himself grasping at thin air. A moment later, Ev felt a knee to the small of his back.
As he fell hard to the ground, Everett absently noticed the absence of a teammate. Jono, where are you? he couldn't help but wonder.
Chamber had finally gotten the drop on one of the other villains. He approached the man as quietly as possible. Even with the lack of body armor and the addition of the rag around his hair (Angelo would've called it a "doo-rag"), he could tell that this was the one called Wraith. Though still unsure of the exact nature of his powers, youthful self-assurance told Chamber that he had the upper hand. According to Paige's account, Wraith was able to enter the body of a person by some form of rudimentary phasing. Once he was inside, he could browse through the conscious and unconscious memories of that person and pick through their mind as he pleased. But what a surprise he'll get if he tries to jump in my shell, thought Chamber maliciously as he crept closer.
"Whatcha say there, sport?" inquired without turning. "Plannin' on blindsidin' a fella while he's havin' a smoke? That don't seem like very superhero-ish behavior."
Chamber froze in place for a moment. His muscles tensed as Wraith turned to face him. "That was a mighty admirable job ya did creepin' up on me, though." A puff of smoke escaped Zed's lips. "Unfortunately for you, all that emotional turmoil yer haulin' around has been settin' off alarms in my noggin ever since ya turned the corner."
Chamber stared in disbelief. This wasn't the supervillain who'd attacked them before, who'd left his friends' minds in temporary tatters.… this was the simple, good-natured country boy who'd shared a cig with Skin in the museum loo.
"You can relax, if y'want," Wraith drawled, "for a minute at least. I got a few good pulls left on this cancer stick. I'll go ahead and finish it now, if ya don' mind. I figure it's kinda yer duty to fight me. Looks like everyone else's already partnered up." He waved his hand in the direction of the mêlée that was now raging on between their rival teams. Closest to them, Thunder was trading punches with Monet and Penance, none of them giving an inch. Flame and Jubilee were nearby, tossing fireballs at one another; Sphinx, White Queen and Banshee were going at it while Synch and Skin double-teamed Hotwire and Jumper, and Sureshot was dealing with the frustration of having her bullets bounce off a steel-hard Husk.
"As you can tell, I ain't exactly bubblin' over with 'school spirit'. This villain gig's wearin' a tad thin on me right now," Zed finished.
Finally, convinced there was to be a brief intermission before their round of the fight, Jono spoke. *How so?* he inquired.
"Say! That was kinda neat. Talked right into m' brain, dincha? Ah, no matter." Zed took another drag from his cigarette. "To answer yer question.... well, lemme just say I gotta debt to repay, and after today, win or lose, it's even." Zed regarded the butt in his hand, tossed it to the ground and stood up. After grinding it into the dirt with his boot heel, he again looked at his opponent. "You ready to go 'round?" he asked.
*Been ready,* Chamber replied, automatically tensing. *It just wouldn't have been very gentlemanly of me not to let a doomed man have his last cigarette.*
Zed snickered. "I figured you'd be pretty pissed about what I did to yer girl a few days ago. That was just business, y'know. Y'all should really talk about yer feelings sometime. Bottled-up emotion is a helluva lot more trouble than it's worth." Wraith paused for a moment and looked up at the sky reflectively. "But I'm just sorry to tell you, y' might not get that chance!"
In one fluid movement Wraith slipped toward and then into Chamber. At the point they met, there was a luminous flash. Had the others not been so engrossed in combat, they would have compared it to the Aurora Borealis on acid.
You seem like a nice fella, Jono, a familiar voice said inside Chamber's skull, an' I really hate to do this to such a stand-up cat, but as I said before, it's only business.
Though it was merely seconds before the explosion, it felt as if time had all but stood still for the two combatants. When asked about his many battles years in the future, Jonothon would recount this as his most fierce. He would also name the man called Wraith among his most noble opponents.
To Chamber, it felt for the first time as though the rift that had formed between his nose and belly had cut a deep trench into his very heart and soul. To Wraith, it felt like he was being smothered in turpentine and old socks. Images flashed between the two, pictures so personal and rapidly changing that in the end, the men were unsure as to which ones belonged to them in the first place:
A scared little boy shrinking in a corner, cringing away from a booze-sozzled man with a belt shifted into a lonely male-child wondering when his Mummy and Daddy would spare a moment of their time to read him a beddy-bye story. A sad youngster sitting on a rickety porch watching the sun sink behind the mountains melted into an inquisitive lad staring up at the bruised and rainy sky of London. A hateful shell of a young man slaying the very townspeople who had shunned and abused him his entire life bled into the picture of a hollow creature ripping itself apart from the inside out. These images danced and swayed between the two minds as ID devoured Superego, then scattered like sand.
Pictures of young women, both fair but firm and each with her own charm, were the last to be recalled. A drunkenly fervent kiss in the girls' dormitory, a brief and thoughtless hug in a moment of true bliss: These were the thoughts that, even amid the chaos of minds burning out, had true owners; owners, it seemed, that were unable, unwilling, to give them up beneath the stress of ultimate collapse. And it was with draw of those last two cards that the game ended.
Chamber's body shuddered. He fell to his knees as the parasite shot from his torso like a rocket. Both men lay in piles upon the soft dirt and hard rubble. They stared at each other with blank and shaken eyes, each man pressing his palms to his temples in some incongruently humorous attempt to keep their brains from falling to the soil with a splat.
It was Zed who made the first advance. Jono tried to put his forearms up to defend himself, but his opponent was only able to turn himself over from the prone position. Jono raised his head. Part of him was sure Wraith was dead, but somehow he knew better. A voice again echoed inside his skull, though this time it was little more than a whisper: I know what it's like, Jonny, to burn for someone you know you don't deserve, it said, the drawl more noticeable, the voice itself more genuine. Here's hopin' yer luck turns out a damn shade better'n mine.
Chamber promptly gave Wraith the finger, seething in turmoil, growling, *How dare you-*
"CHAMBER!" White Queen suddenly hollered. "If you would so kindly get off your ass and give your team some help, it would be greatly appreciated!"
With a moan, Chamber answered the call of duty, shakily pulling himself to his feet and staggering towards the battlefield. Wraith watched him admiringly as Chamber managed to fire off a blast at Sphinx and singe his flesh, though he could tell it gave the teen one hell of a headache.
------------------------
The Black Pack was in bad shape, and Tawny knew it. Even as she slugged it out with the girl called Husk, she could see the team crumbling all around her. Thunder and Flame had been grounded almost from the get-go thanks to the dark girl and the red-skinned freak. Sphinx had fallen victim to his own macho overconfidence, while Jumper and Hotwire had lost the upper hand to the two boys. Right now her only hope was Zed, and she had a very bad feeling about that.
"Anybody wanna trade partners?" Flame squeaked suddenly, gracefully twirling away from one of Jubilee's explosions and silently thanking her ballet teacher for all the pointers on pirouettes. "This kid is starting to get on my nerves."
"KID!?" Jubilee squealed, and fired off a large ball of sparkles that slammed into Flame and sent her on a collision course with Hotwire, bringing them both down in a confused tangle of limbs. "Yeow!" "Good going, Jubes!" "Augh!" "Hey, leggo my hair!" "Thanks Jubecita!" "Get your hand outta my skirt!" was heard seconds later, distracting Thunder long enough for M to get an opening. The snob belted the greenhorn in the jaw, sending him flying over Penance, crashing against Jumper and into a tree.
"Damn it, Thunder! Can't you do anything right?" Sphinx snarled, punching White Queen in the nose as he kicked Banshee in the chest. Banshee lost his temper and sent a sonic wave at the boxer, sending him to the ground in pain.
Now was the time to act. If she had any cards left, Tawny knew now was the time to play them. She heard movement behind her. It was those damned headmasters, no doubt. Oh, what perfect timing, she thought with disgust.
It was not until Husk's unsuccessful grappling attack (that put the girl just within Tawny's reach) that Sureshot was struck with inspiration. In a violent pirouette, Sureshot snagged a swatch of Husk's silver mane. The fiber bit hard through her gloves, but she held on despite that. Drawing her gun, she shoved the barrel into Paige's mouth in one flowing motion. She worked her other hand loose from the metallic tangles of hair and locked it around the girl's throat. "I'm bettin', little lady," she said with a sneer, "that your insides aren't as tough as your outside!"
Husk mumbled a protest from behind gun metal. From his resting-place a few yards away, Zed heard the exchange. Though the scene was obscured from his view by the surrounding grove, he knew what was happening, and was instantly horrified.
"All right! All of you, freeze!" Sureshot commanded.
The Pack and Gen X complied, each looking on in horror as Tawny dragged Husk back toward their original point of entry. Husk gagged as the gun found its way deeper into her gullet. Emma and Sean found themselves rounding the wood just in time to see the spectacle.
"You too, old folks!" Sureshot ordered loudly.
The White Queen and Banshee obeyed. "Sureshot," Emma began, reaching out to her mind, "there's no need for this. You haven't gone too far, not yet. If only you'd-"
"What?" Tawny asked, not even turning to look at her adversary. "Take etiquette lessons from the former White Queen of the infamous Hellfire Club? I don't think so!"
"There's really no need," Sean joined in, "to go any further. You're all free to go. Just give us back Husk."
"'Fraid not, Irish. This has been a long time coming, and it ends now."
"So it does, lass," he muttered, inhaling deeply, "so it does." Sean drew back his head and bowed his chest. He called upon all his years of training to draw a perfect bead on the girl's gun hand. It would no doubt destroy her bone-work, but Husk should remain unharmed. Desperate times, you see, call for desperate measures.
As Banshee opened his mouth wide to scream, Wraith sprang to life. He had heard, he had felt every word that had been said, and he knew what was about to happen. He had had premonitions before, many times. It was (he assumed) part of his gift, but never had he felt so completely removed from matters. For once in his life, Zed Saunders was sure of what he had to do. He moved without will or strength: as a man possessed.
Sureshot turned just in time to hear the piercing sound and see Wraith intercept it just as it would have hit her. He flew limply backwards, arms and legs flapping like streamers, like a cast-off doll from the hands of a fussy child. He met firmly with a great oak tree before falling bonelessly to the ground.
"WRAITH!" Sureshot shrieked. She instantly forgot Husk and flung herself beside Wraith, frantically searching for a pulse, a breath, anything! "Wraith, speak to me," she begged, not caring how cliched the phrase was.
Wraith stirred and stared up at her with a blank gaze. "You're.... okay," he whispered.
Sureshot nodded, aware of tears ambushing her eyes. "You'll be too," she promised.
Zed weakly shook his head, and with a jolt, Tawny noticed blood leaking from his ears. She lifted her head to face the stunned Gen Xers and dazed Pack members. "For God's sake, you brainless bastards, DO SOMETHING!" she bellowed, and turned her attention back to her fallen teammate. "Zed, don't you dare die! I order you," she choked. "Don't die, damn you!"
Zed sighed softly. "N' sure I.... c'n follow.... yer orders, sweets," he moaned, forcing a lopsided smile. His eyes fluttered shut and his chest shook, lungs thick with blood and phlegm.
"ZED!"
At Sureshot's wail, Jono felt something pinch the burnt-away area that once housed his heart, and heard a distant voice buzzing in his brain: I know what it's like, Jonny, to burn for someone you know you don't deserve.… A moment earlier the man had spoken those words to the youth. In that distant age of only scant seconds ago, he'd haughtily thought such a dastardly criminal as Wraith could not even comprehend the feelings that snapped at his soul when he looked upon Paige. Yet now, with that man reduced to a broken, bleeding child and the fearless leader of the Black Pack hovering above him helplessly, Chamber could see he had been dreadfully wrong. This wasn't Apocalypse, Emplate or Magneto: This was a guy named Zed, not much older than himself, who despite scars and sorrows had thrown himself in front of a metaphorical freight-train to save a girl who meant the world to him but hardly knew it. He imagined himself lying there, Husk cradling what was left of his body in her shimmering arms.
Would she cry for me? he couldn't help but think. In front of the enemy on the battlefield, would she cry for me?
Chamber shakily pulled himself to his feet, and his feet began to move. They dragged his body through the rubble to the dying man beneath the tree's canopy. He moved as a robot, as a tool of predestination, as a being that knows not what to do, only how to do it. Startled members of both teams (many still in battle stance) parted like rows of wheat beneath a cutting breeze.
Suddenly, glowing hands closed on Wraith's chest and Zed cried out, writhing as blazing lights poured from those hands into him, somehow repairing the most severe of the damage on a sub-atomic level. The lights became so intense, no one could look at them without experiencing extreme pain.
At last, the light faded. Everyone uncovered their eyes in time to see Chamber lift his hands from a shocked Wraith, and the older man slowly sit up, staring at the other mutant. "What the Hell didja do to me, kid?" Zed asked in weak bewilderment.
*I.... I don't know!* Jono exclaimed, staring at his hands in disbelief. *You were dying, and I just.... reacted!*
"Uh, I hate to break up the fiesta," Skin's voice sounded out, "but we got some company comin'!" The sound of police cars, their sirens cutting the stillness of the scene, made everyone's skin crawl, Angelo's more than most.
Sureshot set Wraith's head down on the pillow of grass beneath him, absently tracing the smile on his lips for a moment before turning to her team and adversaries. "So, Ms. Frost," she said coldly, "do we return to our corners, or stay here and take this up with the authorities?"
Emma was noticeably shaken from the battle, but the defiant tone of the young lady's voice brought her forcefully out of her haze. "Against my better judgement, Miss Black," she responded, "I will curb my wrath at this time and only strongly suggest you take your little operation elsewhere!"
"Very well. We'll consider your offer," Tawny snarled. "Jumper, front and center, now."
Jumper materialized a few feet from Sureshot in a brilliant sphere of light. "To the warehouse?" she questioned.
"Yes," Tawny began, then turned her attention back to the White Queen, "but only for minute. The mind-bitch just sent the cops there."
Emma was not surprised. Already they could hear the blare of the sirens fading, and though the girl had no powers of her own, Emma could sense an openness in the girl's mind.... as if someone had set up a psychic "satellite dish" within her.
"Thunder, help Sphinx get Wraith," Sureshot called.
"Uh, Boss?" Sphinx called back, "I think you'll wanna see this!"
Tawny grinned in spite of herself. She knew she would turn to see Zed, all better and standing on his own, smiling. He would say something witty and flirtatious and there would be the tension, that lovely tension.
But Wraith wasn't standing behind her. The only gaze that met hers was Thunder's, and he looked even more clueless than usual. Sphinx poked through the noticeably vacant area beneath the trunk of the oak tree. Wraith's Hawaiian shirt was there, one of his revolvers (though dented and grimy) was there, as was his blood-stained bandana and one of his black boots. Zed Saunders himself, however, was not.
Tawny froze in disbelief. "Ohhhh, shiiiit," she gasped, quickly glancing between the portal and the place where Zed had fallen, and coming to a heart-wrenching decision. "Forget him. Let's get outta here!" she ordered.
Sphinx's jaw dropped. "Are you nuts? We can't leave Wraith!" he protested.
"I SAID FORGET HIM!" Tawny bellowed, slapping Sphinx across the head with her pistol. Stunned, the boxer fell, only to be scooped up by Thunder and tossed through the portal. Greg soon followed with Flame close behind. Tawny hurled herself forward, vanishing into the light; Jumper stomped in and sealed the portal behind her, leaving Generation X (sans Chamber) standing alone.
Jonothon had fallen into what could loosely be termed a state of shock. After he had some how miraculously cured Zed he had simply ignored his battle training and sauntered away. It had been easy enough: It seemed as though everyone was, at the time, more focused on the shouting match between Sureshot and the White Queen than on his activities. He couldn't blame them really, he simply assumed that they were in such a state of disbelief they had to get their minds off what had just happened. He knew he did.
Chamber suddenly heard a shuffling behind him, could feel the heat of another human moving up behind him. When that person spoke it came as no surprise that it was Zed. *Followin' me around late at night, Zed?* he tried to quip. *People'll talk.*
"Let 'em," Zed responded. "I just had to thank you. "
Jono turned to face him, shocked. *Thank me?*
"Ya saved when you coulda just let me die, like I probably deserved," Zed said quietly. "You gave me the chance to start over. I can't repay you enough, Jono."
Jonothon ducked his head, and would have blushed if he could. *It's no big deal, Wra…. Zed,* he replied quietly.
Zed cocked his head to the side, studying the teen and hearing the lone thought flittering through his consciousness: Just wish I could figure out how to make that heal-power work on me.
Zed suddenly knew how to pay off his debt to Jono. The kid had said he'd just reacted and healed him when he was in danger of dying…. It was risky, but how would Jonothon react if his own life was in danger?
The next thing Jono knew, there was a muffled pffft and he was struck by a massive headache. He gasped-yowled, falling to his knees and grabbing his head, only to find part of it missing. In an instant he knew what had happened. *ZED!* he yelled furiously. *Why-?*
"It's okay, kid," the former villain said calmly. "I'm just repaying you."
*By SHOOTING me?!* Jono screamed.
"You'll understand soon enough," Zed stated confidently.
Jonothon shakily collapsed to the floor, clutching his head and empty chest with glowing hands as the headache threatened to send him spiraling into darkness. At last he sent a screaming cry into the Psi-Plane and passed out, falling into blessed release from pain.
Zed looked over the unconscious Jono with a smile. Man, was the kid gonna be surprised when he woke up.
Thudding, rushing footsteps alerted Wraith to the coming of Gen X. I better get out of here. With a sigh, Zed jumped out of sight and dashed off. He had one last bit of business to attend to, anyway.
----------------------
The Black Pack had checked into the Plaza, the classiest hotel in all New York, all finding rooms close to each other. Tawny, however, had a suite to herself. Good thing, too: She needed privacy in luxury right now. She lay curled on a large cushy bed, fingers clenched around her pistol in anger and grief. "Damn you, Zed," she whispered. "How dare you leave like that? How could you abandon the Pack? Too many trips into little goody-goody minds poison you against us?"
Her enraged musings were interrupted by a knock knock knock. Tawny cursed and pulled herself off the bed, tossing the gun under the pillows as she stalked to the door. "What?" she barked as soon as it was open.
A bellhop stood in the hall, a covered tray balanced on his hands and a stand slung over his shoulder. "Room service," he greeted cheerily.
"I didn't order room service, you idiot," Tawny retorted, and started to close the door.
"But it's complimentary with your stay in the Plaza," the bellhop persisted.
Tawny eyed the tray, and finally succumbed. "All right," she said in exasperation. "Just don't expect me to tip you."
"Of course," the bellhop replied with a grin, and entered the suite. Quickly he set the tray on the stand, bowed and left the room, not noticing the ghostly figure slipping from his body halfway.
Tawny didn't notice either. She was lifting the cover from the tray and examining the food underneath. "I hope you like lobster," a tired voice declared.
Tawny shrugged. "It's okay, I gue-" She froze, recognizing the voice, and whirled to face the speaker. "Wraith?" she gasped.
Zed smiled sheepishly. "Hi Tawn."
Tawny strode forward and swiftly embraced him, and then just as swiftly slammed the heel of her hand into Zed's nose, nearly breaking it and sending him reeling. "You simplistic, arrogant, annoying, ten-foot-pole-up-the-crotch ignoramous! You'd better have a damn good reason for vanishing like that," Tawny snapped harshly, shoving Wraith to the floor. "Talk fast now or I'll use you as a gun target!"
"All right, all right!" Zed cried, scrambling to his feet and backing away. "I'll talk."
Tawny folded her arms across her chest. "Go on."
Zed averted his eyes. "I'm gonna go straight, Tawny," he said quietly. "It's time I paid penance for every single thing I've done. I'm not sure what I'll do, but it'll be something." He met her fiery gaze again. "You could join me, Tawn. We'd be together, at least," he offered.
Tawny tossed her head and looked away. "I like this life too much, Zed," she stated. "It's exciting, challenging, fun and rewarding. I'd die before I gave it up. As for the together thing-"
"Think about it," Zed pleaded.
"Why the unnatural attachment to me, Wraith?" Tawny growled.
The man was taken aback. "Well, I, uh.... that is-"
"Spit it out!"
"Okay!" Zed blurted, feeling a bit scared. For a teenager, Sureshot could sure be intimidating. "You saved me from a bad time, Tawn. I confess, I woulda killed myself if you hadn't found me in the bar. It's like God sent me an angel." He paused thoughtfully. "Albeit one with a bad attitude," he amended with a sigh. "I'm always gonna be grateful for that. I guess I even love you for that, sort of. This road you're takin': It'll be nothin' but disaster for you, I know it. If my angel lost her wings.... I just can't let that happen."
Tawny was silent. "I'm no angel, Zed," she said finally, still not looking at him. "I'm just a seventeen year-old adrenaline addict." She laughed and shrugged nonchalantly. "Anyway, if you leave, it's okay: I'll find someone else to watch the Pack's backs."
Zed silently took that in. "Guess this is goodbye, then," he said softly.
"Goodbye," Tawny responded shortly. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
Zed spun on his heel and left the room. Tawny didn't even watch him go. "Good riddance, you bastard," she whispered, and burst into tears.
Look for more Gen X vs. Black Pack action coming soon! C y'all then!
