John Ridley - Those Who Walk in Darkness

And then it would all be over. Michelle could rest easy. And Vaughn would join her. He'd be sent to join her. If not by the wave after wave of cops who would hunt him down, then by the other metanormals for his breaking of their most sacred tenant: Above all else do no harm. So quaint in the face of reality. So sickening in light of the fact that their kind are forced to hide in shadows, conceal their abilities, act, think, be normal. Or die.

So if that was the choice—live in fear or die, let Michelle's murder go unpunished or die, make a stand for the hunted and murdered or die…

Strange. Powerful as he was, Vaughn found himself a little anxious about having to face down the woman: Bullet.

Eddi had her HK up and aimed, ready to fire the instant she heard a sound at the door. If she'd been a little more jumpy, a split second faster with her trigger, Soledad would've been on the receiving end of a swarm of slugs.

Soledad called through the wood: "Eddi…"

Eddi opened the door, weapon poised, eyes checking Soledad for a bloody nose.

Soledad struggled into the room, her thigh oozing steady, lugging a body on her shoulder half wrapped in burlap. She dumped it on the floor like she was dumping a sack of potatoes but with even less care.

"The metal morpher." Already Soledad was moving for Vin, checking his leg.

"What about the other one?" Eddi asked.

"Still out there. He's playing with us. Used this freak to whittle us down."

Vin stirred. His eyes opened but stayed unfocused."Sooolaaa-dahh…" was as unslurred as his speech would get.

"Soledad…" Eddi nearly echoed Vin, her voice as unsteady as his.

With the end of her T-shirt Soledad wiped down the sweat on Vin's face."Almost out of here." Soledad used her shirt to wipe her own face."One more to get. He's going to be the hard one, though."

"Gaahh buuhleet fffa frreee…"

Breaking open another morphine injector, Soledad jabbed Vin's arm with the needle.

Eddi reached a hand to her upper lip."… Soledad…"

Vin began to surf a morphine dream. Where speech had failed him before, now even sounds were beyond him. His lips moved in silence. To Soledad they looked like they were saying: I love you.

Eddi, urgent: "Bullet!"

Soledad looked up.

Eddi said: "My nose is bleeding."

The next second was both instant and elastic. Long enough for Soledad to suss that Eddi's nose was bleeding because she was about to get puppeted by the telepath. Long enough for Soledad to grab for her piece, start to draw it. But not hardly long enough for Soledad to finish the job. Eddi's foot whipped out, caught Soledad's wrist and cartwheeled the gun across the room.

As fast as Eddi had moved, Soledad matched speed. Her right foot sprang out and smacked hard against Eddi's chest, doing double duty: It sent the girl flying backward and her HK skittering over the floor into the dark. The move was instantly followed by a charge from Soledad. A charge that got aborted when Eddi pulled a knife. The knife. Daddy's knife. The one meant to be driven hilt-deep into the chest of some freak. The one the mind-controlled Eddi was now trying to plunge into Soledad.

Stillness.

Eddi hesitated, fought against her unseen master. Pleading: "Bullet…"

Then, with all the malice the freak could feed her, Eddi came at Soledad. The knife in her hand was a stainless-steel blur that whipped and whistled, twisted then whipped again with its own imposed agenda: kill.

Even as she fenced and dodged, Soledad was amazed at the swiftness the freak moved Eddi, how precisely it directed her strikes. The thing that amazed her more was her own ability to keep just beyond the blade's edge. Desperation gave her speed same as the freak's hate gave Eddi fury. Soledad's arms swirled in front of her, a couple of snakes dancing, blocking, blocking.

Her leg went hot.

Eddi throwing out kicks to Soledad's wounded thigh, striking low while the knife went high.

The tip of Eddi's blade caught Soledad above the forearm. It tore her skin, sent an arch of blood streaming and forced from her a single grunt of pain. The knife came round again. Blocking as Eddi slashed, Soledad hemmed up the girl's right arm. Eddi swung with her left and that was caught too. Soledad jerked her close, held her tight.

"Eddi… Eddi, you gotta fight it."

"I…" Tears from her eyes. Blood from her nose."I can't."

Eddi's body dipped forward, down. Her leg whipped up behind her. Soledad saw the sole of Eddi's boot racing for her face. A second after that Soledad was a good twelve feet across the floor shaking her head clear as she sprang standing.

This was gladiator entertainment. Either the freak would kill Soledad by way of Eddi or Soledad would have to kill Eddi to stop the freak. Neither was much good as far as Soledad cared. But to change the situation, first off, the knife had to go.

Moving for Eddi, Soledad left an opening. Deliberately. Not too wide, but very inviting. A space between rib and waist that casually said: Insert blade here. A few feints, then Eddi… the freak by way of Eddi—went for it. All the symbiont got for its trouble was its wrist grabbed, yanked, twisted until the knife clanked to the floor. Still moving, still pulling, Soledad wrenched Eddi into a choke hold.

Into Eddi's ear, but to the freak: "Leave her alone. You want me, come and get me!"

"Bullet…" Eddi's voice, weak and scared."Don't hurt me."

Sympathy eased Soledad's grip.

Mistake.

Eddi kicked up and across her body, nailing Soledad in the head. Again Soledad took a short flight. Again she got dumped hard on the floor. Soledad was getting sick of the ride. She wasn't sure if the telepath was giving Eddi her skills, or if it was just using Eddi's own moves with a taste of her latent dislike of Soledad baked in. But what was becoming job one in Soledad's game plan was that Eddi's high-swinging, hard-kicking legs were the next thing to get taken out of the equation.

Back up, back on her feet, back to fighting. Soledad went back at the girl. She was getting puppeted? Too bad. Soledad threw punches, threw them hard. Kicks got delivered to hurt. To the head. To the head, to the ribs. Chest. To the head.

But fast as Soledad could strike, Eddi could counter and with more added. Soledad went from throwing punches to blocking punches to taking them. She took a hit to the face, felt her eye swell. A blow to the jaw, and she felt her teeth crack, her lip split and shoot blood. It flowed in her mouth, her throat, and made her nauseous.

Change of tactic.

Soledad moved backward, took off like she was running away, running scared, running toward a wall that would trap her. Eddi followed. The freak took the bait: Smelling the kill, it moved its host close.

Soledad, foot to the wall, stepped up, swung around, kicked back, landed a shot hard to Eddi's fast-approaching head.

The girl took the shot full on, did a boozy pirouette and dropped down, her left leg spindling out in front of her.

Bull's-eye.

Taking air, Soledad spun, extended, brought her boot down on target: Eddi's knee.

The burst of the synovial sac was gunshot loud. So loud it was audible under Eddi's scream. A scream that said the leg was good as useless.

Soledad pulled back, took a breath. One breath was all she'd get in before Eddi came at her again, never mind her busted-up knee, like Soledad had done nothing worse than give her a foot massage.

Of course, she kept coming, Soledad thought as she went back to ducking punches. Eddi's knee was messed up, she was in bad pain.

So what? The freak didn't feel a thing. The freak just made Eddi keep on fighting.

Taking Eddi apart piece by piece was no good. If she didn't out and out kill the girl, Soledad knew she'd just end up crippling her. A knockout punch was the only way to go. One that would put Eddi down, keep her down.