Unwelcome Guests IV

in story •  7 years ago 

Guilty Party: Jason Christian
Day 4: 0900 hours
Residential-Business District 5: Midtown/Westport

Spyder Shelby:
Spyder was tall -- at 6' 1" her height alone intimidated most men. The fact that she was also a tomboy and a motorcycle mechanic with her certification in both Harley Davidson and Mitsubishi motorcycles meant that she could talk the talk and walk the walk. That is, until one of the little boys with grown-up hardware found out that she was also one of those "Career Criminals" known as a Cooper, and then she became their dirty little secret. Just like all the rest of the nomad migrant cooperatives out there.

That was okay because she was not afraid to fight dirty.

If the wrong little boy tried to get grabby, she was not afraid to break his fingers for him.

It wasn't that she was violent, no, she was simply one to not pull any punches. If it made a few little boys run home to Mommy, then that was not her problem.

Once upon a time she'd been softer, more innocent to the true nature of humanity. But that had been a lifetime ago. To think that she was only a 20something and was a battle-hardened veteran still amazed a lot of the Elder Set, but that didn't matter.

She made it a point to live in the here-n-now, not in some toxic personal history that had showed her what extremes hateful little boys would go to in order to inflict suffering on others. She wasn't a man-hater, in fact some of them were actually men of their word. Like her current meat-puppet, Defective Dude Tomlinson. He was the only real man who she'd met who did not like being called "Dude", but then who could blame him? He'd told her the story behind that one after he'd gotten past her defenses: not the least of which was a demented killer act where she would talk about "The Girls" -- her chrome plated, twin .45 caliber handguns -- as if they were her own beloved daughters. She could have gotten a pair of Desert Eagles and been just as happy, but the price on the ammo for it was gawdawful high because they were regarded as "Big Game Hunters" by the ATF, who were the non-experts in charge of all things that went boom.

Her friend Madelyn had a way of keeping that chip on Spyder's shoulder in check, inasmuch as some little boy didn't start bragging about "Rolling a Nomad Creep", or "Doing (that is, raping) a Dumpster Ho". Most Coopers lived as Down'Ers -- that being homeless people -- when in the cities, due to more than a few secret laws designed to encourage them to live in the Wilderness or the reams of bad press they got if any of their reality got broadcasted onto the Internet.

She'd consider a weapons upgrade, though, because she could handle the kick from those bad boys without flinching, and plus the size of that particular gun -- the desert eagle that is -- and the hole left by the TCH (Teflon Coated Hollow-Point) rounds had to be measured with a yard stick. And the thunderclap it made when it fired was enough to lay down the law in three neighboring counties at the same time.

She also had 2 Vampiric Steel machetes on her back in a butterfly sheath. If they cut you, your skin would take twice as long to heal, and then the blades themselves would get very thirsty -- a very not-good thing because the extra-dimensional metal fed off of hemoglobin, especially what came from thinking creatures.

Mostly this was for show, however. She only ever had to take the machetes out maybe twice, and both of these times she got her point across, and both times were out in the Wilderness and against rival Cooper families that had gotten ultraviolent against her famz.

Antoinette joined Spyder at Doc Frosty's place, along with Emil, her Alley Cat Broker. Emil was the unofficial Lord of Midtown -- if it was a job that needed to be done, he got it done. Sometimes that was Perimeter Security Patrol -- babysitting detail -- or her favorite, Search and Rescue. She liked being a hero, and to get paid for being a hero was even better. Sometimes she'd be sent to prank a not-so VIP within one company or another by moving his furniture for him, at the behest of a fellow Collegiate and "Old Friend" from a rival company, but was worth it seeing some egotistical Collegiate when his house full of pretty furniture got disappeared by people who did not exist on paper or in any database.

Frosty's place looked like just another POS tract house on the outside, but had a lot of features that no other house had, including a set of boobytraps that were as demented as they were brilliant.

Of course being the nice guy that he was, he'd set up all kinds of warning signs to make sure that no one entered the house.

How he managed to keep the Fedz off his back was a mystery to her.

Soh'Fee and Jasper, Frost's "Pets" were nearly the size of a bob-cat, but were also a mated pair of Elf-Cats -- identical in coloration to just about every domestic short hair on the planet. They'd already birthed two litters together, and one of those Spyder thought might have potential as a Mage Class, making it equally popular with COTRUP and Vel-Cor, and not in a good way. Fortunately the house had a Repulsion Ward on it, making it avoided by anyone who was not Mage Class.

A buzzing sensation entered her head, and she knew immediately that a Magebane plant had taken an interest in her. It had a yellow, trumpet-shaped bloom with a stem resembling that of a poison ivy and prehensile vines and roots at it's base, which also had explosive Perdition berries. Each one of these had a kick like firecracker but consisted of an organic form of napalm which stuck like rubber cement on steroids and burned like the fires of hell. She got two drops on her once, and these not only ate through her jacket, but also into her skin, and that hurt worse than anything she'd ever experienced.

The plants automatically negated spells and other paradynamic abilities because they fed off of elemental energies, in addition to water and sunlight. That meant no spells could be cast, and no non-ambient powers could be used.

She gave the plant some drinking water that she kept in a bulletproof canteen before leading her 2 friends over to the back yard of the house, and setting up the hidden ladder under the back porch.

She climbed onto the roof.

Once there she found the rooftop entrance to the house, and climbed down to the basement. In front of the ladder was a 20 foot by 20 hole cut into the ground floor, which led to a couple of very nasty looking bungee pits in basement floor. The metal used for the spikes however had a gravity reversal ward on them, which would pin the falling person to the ceiling. This was always fun to watch though, because the look of surprise always got a laugh out of people. And thanks to all the right "donations" to certain not-to-be-named Town Councilmen, Swat and PD were strongly encouraged to avoid Frosty's Place like it was some kind of nano-plague.

She got down to the basement and Frost was sitting next to a teenage girl on a "borrowed" gurney, who was shivering and sweating at the same time. Right next to the bed was a portable toilet and a set of EKG monitors which kept track of her vitals.

"I did what I could for her, Purge and Healing for the needle tracks, but even so, heroin's still a nasty habit to kick."

And the girl was pretty, which in it's own way was worse than being plain.

Antoinette walked up to the shivering girl, whispered something to her before putting her arms around and singing in a quiet voice. The girl laid down, still shivering but more relaxed.

"So have you heard?" Spyder asked him.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Madelyn's disappeared."

"Are you sure that she's not on a job?"

"Yeah." Spyder said. "Madelyn checks in every five and a half hours when she's not on a job. And it's been four days."

Frost closed his eyes and then a moment later opened them. "She's in hiding, and she's maintaining telepathic silence, just in case there might be some O'Grady peeps listening in. At least that's what one of my contacts just told me."

People could whisper when using telepathy, but those who were skilled enough could still hear it.

And it wasn't like there'd never been any back room deals made between the Coalition and the Underground Factions.

"So what now?"

"Ask around, rattle some cages, and see what happens."

"Will do" Emil said. "Thanks Frosty."

Emil handed him a bag of Lactated Ringers, and the 3 of them left the house.

The Magebane plant was still on Spyder's shoulder.

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Magic in this realm is known as Paradynamic Sciences. It is capricious and at times very hard to control. It stands as a competitor of sorts against BioAugmentation, or "Bionics". With almost no exception, the two cannot exist within the same body without it destroying that body in very unpleasant ways. Some people explode, others implode, and still others simply die from a massive stroke, and are unable to be brought back.

If anyone wants to, they can read the beginning of this tale. I titled it VW: Unwelcome Guests. If necessary I can resteem it. Just let me know.