George Martin - Busted flush

Niobe helped haul Drake up off the ground. "You okay?"

He nodded.

"This is Baxter," she said, lifting her last kid onto her shoulder. "He can, well… he's good with anything electrical." She got into the truck on the driver's side and set Baxter onto the seat. "Let's get out of here."

"Right behind you," Drake said. He piled through the open cab door into the seat.

Drake glanced back and saw the caped woman moving. He felt relief. Billy Ray ran up and helped her to her feet. They were shouting at each other when the woman with the coal-black hair and ball-bearing eyes wrapped them in her big black cape. All three of them disappeared.

"Buckle up," Niobe said. Her tail was taking up a lot of space on the seat. He wriggled his fingers under it and found the seat belt.

Drake frowned. "What about Bubbles? We'd be goners if not for her." Of course, she dropped a dime on us in the first place.

Niobe glanced down at Drake's seat belt, which he'd dutifully buckled, then looked at the rearview mirror. "I've got a plan for that. Hang on."

She put the car into reverse and backed up into Bubbles. There was a heavy jolt that Drake felt in every part of his body, even though he'd braced himself. He stuck his head out the open window and looked back. Bubbles had gotten bigger. Niobe kept her foot on the gas, spinning the tires in the dirt without moving Bubbles an inch. She continued to swell in size. "Cool," Drake said, popping his head back inside. "Smart move."

"Time to hit the road." She changed gears into drive and off they went. "Nobody will be following us, Baxter's seen to that." Baxter looked up and smiled. Sure enough, when Drake looked back, the road was empty. Every other car in Cross Plains seemed to have a dead engine.

Drake looked out the side window and watched the town roll by, which didn't take long. He'd never seen much of the world outside Pyote. If things were different, and people weren't chasing him and trying to kill him, this might be fun. But it wasn't. "How much gas do we have?"

Niobe squinted to check the gauge. "About half a tank."

Drake checked the glove compartment. In addition to the owner's manual, maps, and receipts, there was a candy bar and a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniel's. He pulled both out to show Niobe. "Want to split the candy bar?"

"Fine, but put the booze back in the glove compartment."

They were munching happily on their respective halves when he heard a heavy thump above their heads and a burning piece of metal cut through the roof of the truck. Leather-clad fingers curled under the torn metal and ripped away the roof on Drake's side. "You can't escape, sinners."

Drake could feel the heat from her sword and fiery wings stealing away his breath. "The bottle, Drake," Niobe screamed. "Hit her with the bottle."

At first, what she said didn't register, but then he snapped to it. He snatched the Jack Daniel's from the glove compartment, turned his body to face the woman above him, and cocked his arm. He threw it at her hard and straight and she reacted instinctively, fending off the bottle with a sweep of her sword.

The glass shattered on impact and its contents sprayed outward, immediately igniting and enveloping their pursuer like a fiery hand. The leather-clad woman lost her balance, bouncing off the bed of the truck and into the road behind them. "Jesus," said Drake. "I forgot about her." The wind from the hole in the cab roof whipped his dirty hair about his face. "This blows." He looked down at Baxter, who appeared to be thinking the same thing.

Niobe was silent for the next quarter mile or so. "Drake, would you really have blown up back there?"

He gave her a look like she was from Mars. "Of course not. I mean, my power is awful and I wish I didn't have it. I don't ever want to blow up again. But since I'm stuck with it I might as well use it for scaring people. Sorry if I scared you, too. You're the only friend I've got."

"You did good, Drake. Particularly when you went Mike Tyson on that policeman."

"Yeah, we're a good team." He patted Baxter's head.

Drake leaned his head to one side and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he listened to the sound of tires on asphalt. The rhythmic noise reminded him of life before the accident, and provided him just enough comfort to let his mind slip into sleep. Finally dreaming about the future, and not the past.

"Kids come out of eggs. I really shouldn't be telling you this. Carnifex will kill me when he gets back, but Jesus, she lays eggs," Stuntman is saying, and his disgust is evident in the way he almost chews the words as if looking to spit them out.

SCARE has brought in an RV to serve as a command center. Outside, the fallen Ferris wheel has lost its little cars like nuts spilling from a branch. A harsh wind is blowing, carrying dust through the door to coat the floor in grit. It carries the faint scent of corn dogs and cotton candy. The wind seems to be pursuing me across continents and time zones.

"Where is the director?" I ask blandly.

A fearsome hailstorm begins beating on the metal roof with a sound like giants banging pots together. I have to lean in to hear him. I'm back to being Noel. It feels odd and I realize I have been morphing between Lilith and Bahir for days with scarcely a stop in to visit me.

"In Paris. The attorney general is arranging for a plane to get him and Lady Black back. That creepy Committee chick teleported them to the Louvre and dropped them inside." I'm a touch offended at the appellation of creepy. That's not how men usually react to Lilith. "Since it was after hours, every alarm in the world went off and they got arrested."

I hide my pleasure at the memory. My last words as I dropped them and teleported away were, "Art is broadening, Mr. Ray. Take the opportunity to improve yourself."

Stuntman shakes his head. "And the arrests aren't going to stop there. Warrants have been issued for Bubbles and Lilith. God, I'd love it if I could catch Fat Chick before Ray gets back."

"This Genetrix…," I nudge.

"She's gotta fuck somebody to lay a clutch, so we've been trying to trace her that way."

"While I admit sex in times of stress can be a lovely release, why would she want to…" I make a gesture toward my trousers.

"She can't have the clutches without sex, and the freaks are helping them. They're like little mini-aces." His hand indicates something about two feet tall. I have to feign ignorance, but I had seen the power at work last night. "And the powers are always different. That's how she got out of BICC."

I wish him luck on the search, and tell him we'll pool information. I then step outside and proceed to backstab him. The street is awash with runoff from the abrupt thunderstorm. The air smells of ozone and dust and desert plants trying to grasp at the rare and valuable moisture. The smell of carny has finally faded.

I use my BlackBerry to log on to the VICAPP network that lists criminal activity across the fifty United States. The network tells an interesting story of two ATMs that have been mysteriously emptied of money. I'm finding it hard to read, my eyes seem filled with grit. I pop another Black Beauty and continue. The security camera on the first robbery shows only the top of a head. As if the robber is on his knees. Or a dwarf. Or perhaps… a mini-ace.

In the same vicinity as the ATMs there has been a rash of stolen cars, abandoned after they run out of gas, and a carjacking. One of the perps had been caught. A midget. He's in custody in Center, Texas.

I locate the place on Google Earth, unbutton my collar and loosen my tie, and unhook my belt, transform into Bahir, and make the jump Between. It's a relief to feel the flesh pull and shift and return to Noel. The binding in my crotch was becoming rather uncomfortable.