Chapter 83: 75. Team Noir: Revelations

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” Jay asked, answering his friend’s call at the front porch of the third victim.

“Just wanted to know how you and the others are doing,” Mike said. “It’s hard to focus when Champion business is in progress. Hailey’s feeling the same way.”

The [Mages] and [Crafters] were studying magic rituals and sorting through loot at YoAnna’s outer mansion. It was all the way up at the city’s northeast outskirts. The outer mansion seemed far, but it was a solid half-hour drive on the highway. The rainfall might lengthen that to forty minutes now.

The extra ten minutes could be the difference between life and death, Jay grimly considered.

“Eh, it’s alright.” Jay tried to pretend things were okay before letting out a dreary sigh. His joking mood couldn’t stick. “We’re talking to the family of a victim now. It’s pretty bad. Might be a Rank 2 monster grubbing on the locals. And we have no idea why or how there’s a monster here.”

“Just one?”

“Dunno yet. My meta-g is being dickish. Gotta learn detective the hard way.”

“Out of all of your ludicrous space-time sensory powers, I think spatial-g would serve the best,” Mike said.

Mike had helped Jay reconfigure his thoughts on his super sixth sense. It split four ways:

[1] Spatial-g for 3D gravity mapping.

[2] Emotional-g for heavy negative emotion reading.

[3] 4D headspace for vague and dramatic future premonitions. And more, perhaps.

[4] Meta-g for the looney story plot points and extra context–Jay’s madness at its finest.

That didn’t include the [Eye of Venerated Madness] Talent's two of three perks: signaling an immediate future event Jay was observing and replaying the past gravity recording of someone Jay cared deeply about.

“Gonna go now, the family is getting themselves together and might say something relevant,” Jay said.

“Understood. Just keep in mind that Dennis, Brit, and Casey should finish in another forty minutes,” Mike informed quickly. “And I can round up everyone here and get us going the moment we hear something distressful.”

Jay felt through meta-g that the Champions would come down here for something big. It could be catastrophic, so the temptation to tell Mike and all the rest to stop what they were doing and get here was strong.

But Jay’s meta-g was a wishy-washy jerk that warned about the necessary plot lines running personally for each Champion. For mostly every plot line to align for their best possible outcomes, they had to come together at the last moment when needed, which was also the moment when things would get really bad.

It was screwy.

Nervousness gnawed on Jay’s insides from the increasing pressure. That level of gore suffered by an innocent person seemed to stick to him more than anything else he’d seen or suffered. It was almost tempting to lean on Conviction and his [Omen Bearer of the Apocalypse] Title to harden him. Jay was a little warier of that Title after he’d nearly sworded Derek.

Instead, Jay took a deep breath, focused on centering himself, and relaxed a little at a time.

“The call will come when it’s needed most,” Jay said.

“Why not before then?”

“Y’know why.”

Mike sighed. “Be safe.”

Jay snorted. “Unlikely. Just be ready to kill. Been a while since you’ve hit something with big, big magic.”

Mike didn’t let himself get suckered in. They ended the call, returning Jay to the present. He pocketed his phone and looked up, listening to the tinny sound of rain on metal.

He took a second to calm himself again before going back inside, his sneakers squishing on a dry welcome mat. The third victim lived in a house with a higher elevation. Their home was propped up higher than the neighbors', too.

Jay regarded a dozen faces gawking at him. The third victim was a young man a few years older than Jay. His entire family made their livelihood as extra hands around Junkside whenever someone needed it.

The work must be doing them well since they owned a bigger cement home than most Junkers. They could afford four bedrooms and enough amenities to cover a large family with some transient members.

In other words, they probably did illegal stuff. They had a fancy gold lamp shining on a bunch of religious paraphernalia in the corner. A large living room with a giant flat-screened 4K TV. The abnormal luxury for a Junker definitely suggested illegal stuff.

Jay watched Malcolm stay focused on the task at hand, selecting his battles wisely. Hell, the man allowed himself to play second fiddle to Cutie as the teenage gang leader questioned the head honchos of the family–an abuela (a Spanish-speaking grandmother), her son, and her daughter-in-law.

Malcolm only spoke to ask Cutie for clarification. That would prompt her to ask more questions she–and all the other youngsters–would’ve overlooked without him.

Jay could see Emily’s impression of Malcolm rising quickly as the old man kept playing his bit–a weirdly laid-back and supportive grandpa with a huge wealth of experience. The exact opposite of Commander Steele even though Jay swore Malcolm must’ve come from the same family tree.

It was a little unnerving. Jay wanted to tolerate Malcolm, not like him. There was no time for getting buddy-buddy with another CWG person anyway. Amanda had taken that role.

“We’ve gotten as much as they can tell us,” Cutie said, looking up to Malcolm as if to check if she’d missed anything.

Malcolm looked off to the side, acting aloof and slow. “Sounds good to me, boss.”

Cutie perked up slightly at being called boss by someone who would normally put her in the slammer.

“Were you able to catch everything?” Emily asked Jay as she ignored the abuela’s furtive looks and Spanish whispers about Emily having the angel of death around her.

“Our handyman guy was taking his usual route back from helping a customer sandbag a home. He didn’t show up on time as he should. Family members found him on a raised mound in the middle of a flooded field. And no more than that.”

That was the gist of what Jay had caught. He would’ve settled with just that, but Malcolm had prompted Cutie to ask for more information.

Had the victim been found lying face up or face down?  Had they noticed tracks? Did the field have construction around it? Anything that stuck out? And a couple more follow-up questions that had the family repeat themselves a few times.

Through it all, Tim waited while leaning against the wall near the door. He was practically a watchdog waiting to be an attack dog.

Team Noir moved to the workroom where the deceased lay on a wooden table cleared of tools. A white vinyl sheet covered the body.

The mother broke into another hysterical fit. Malcolm asked Cutie if they should keep the family in the living room because of the sensitivity of the work.

Cutie gently ordered the family to stay in the living room. The family didn’t trust the obvious three-letter agent. They had no idea what to think of Jay and Emily. But the O’Kelly presence of Tim backing Cutie was a large factor.

Cutie closed the door behind them but didn’t lock it.

“You’re really good at this,” Emily complimented Malcolm immediately.

“Years of experience knocked my fool’s head around enough,” he replied. “Still a fool, just less of one.”

“Why would you call yourself a fool?” Cutie asked. Even she was starting to warm up to Malcolm.

“I’m an old man throwing myself into the greatest danger a man like me could ever see,” Malcolm said, his eyes passing over each youngster before landing on Jay. He didn’t flinch away as Jay’s multi-colored eyes glimmered intensely. 

Kleo crawled out of Jay’s pouch and took a seat on top of his head again.

“This should be enough, I think,” Kleo said.

“Another face upper.” Malcolm waved at Tim to help uncover the body carefully.

Once they removed the sheet, Malcolm gestured for Cutie to stand by the middle of the table while he stood beside her.

Jay anticipated the man to unwisely put his hand on her shoulder and try to be all father-like.

Malcolm proved Jay wrong, keeping his hands to himself while giving Cutie a respectable distance that protected her boundaries. Cutie seemed even more receptive to what the agent had to say as a result.

“See why he’s the sixth,” Kleo said so quietly Jay needed [Faerie Master] to translate half of it. “All of that experience. Like a well-lived dungeon crawler.”

Jay emoted a grunt through [Faerie Master] in response.

Emily moved to the other side of Cutie. The circling ghosts stayed tight to Emily's body. Holding her servants back kept everything in order and the room temperature unchanged.

“Remember victim two along the way?” Malcolm asked.

Everyone nodded as if they were in class and Malcolm was their teacher–school arc still in full effect.

Cutie had been leading them to what would’ve been victim two (which was now victim three) when Jay’s spatial-g found another victim lying face up on their back patio. The water had soaked it pretty badly, but it was the freshest victim they’ve come across. The gore was more gruesome than the previous one for Jay, especially with the damage done to the face. But as they examined it, a couple of irregularities had revealed themselves.

“This one’s more like victim two than victim one,” Tim said studiously. He only had 10 Intellect, but he was pushing himself to use every AP it had.

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“Not exactly,” Malcolm said. “Face up, yeah. No head wound like the second victim. But pay attention to the bite marks on the edges of the torso wound and on the limbs. What do you notice?”

“Similar. Probably the same,” Jay said. “Ridgy. Like lots of chompy bites. Maybe the monster changes it up between front and back?”

Tim shrugged.

“Perhaps,” Malcolm said before glancing at Emily.

“The suffering is the same,” Emily confirmed, sounding frustrated. “Captured. Forced to live through torturous death. The spirit wanted nothing more than to flee. Nothing for me to question.”

“Let me field you this, Emily,” Malcolm asked her. “Is the suffering really the same? Think back to victim two, and then the victim one.”

Emily blinked, shifted from side to side uncomfortably, then readjusted her glasses. “No. The suffering was continuous until death was achieved with victims two and three. The suffering of victim one ended with the forceful blow to the back of the head.”

“Okay,” Cutie said, sucking in a sharp breath. “Okay. Okay. It’s two monsters. One likes to eat from the front. The other likes to eat from the back, including the brain. And I get why you kept asking those questions.”

She whirled on Malcolm, pointing her index fingers akimbo at his face, her rifle dangling from her shoulder. “The storm drains. Victims two and three were caught by the drains. The same happened to the lemon seller when I found him. Right by a drain. It goes back to what I thought, too. With all the water, flow, movement… the monsters come out.”

Malcolm nodded along. “And to build on that: the back taker showed a knack for sneaking into homes. The front taker catches its victim when they’re alone by the drains. Victim two wasn’t exactly out in the open, but they were a stone’s throw away from a storm drain.”

“We hunt around the storm drains then?” Tim asked, a vein showing in his neck as his body pulsated with bloodlust.

Jay felt the same, but he hid it better. On top of that, Kleo was still sitting patiently. They weren’t finished yet.

Malcolm carefully pointed at the wounds, signifying he was moving to his next point. “Your monsters are certainly similar. Same style of bite wounds. But the claw marks are a little different depending on where you look. Victim one had longer strokes. All similar. Victims two and three had different-sized strokes. One set was small claws. Another set was big claws. But the bite marks remain the same. And it just hit me what it could be.”

Before the revelation landed, Kleo gasped sharply, the [Faerie] throwing herself into passive orbit around Jay.

Malcolm and Cutie’s concern flared as the [Faerie] muttered intelligibly to herself. Jay tried to play it cool as if he knew what Kleo was saying when it was all nonsense to him. He could feel through [Faerie Master] she was working hard on perceiving something. Something meta.

“Oh, that’s dirty,” Kleo griped without saying no more.

Malcolm looked at Jay questioningly.

The [Freak] stared at a random corner and focused, feeling through meta-g with his [Faerie] as the guide. It was strange that he couldn’t feel the storyline so easily. It was like the plot was distant from Jay. Or the [Freak] was distant from the plot point. Distant from the pivotal piece–

Jay’s gaze snapped toward Malcolm, spooking their sixth member of Team Noir.

The man had pissed off Jay for simply existing and got the short end of the stick from the start. But Malcolm persevered and waited for his best opportunity to be of help rather than assert himself forcefully. Kleo had defended him and reminded Jay that Malcolm was not an enemy of the past–a solid entry for Malcolm’s story.

He was really competent.

He was proving to be an essential member of the team.

He was mentoring the young without hammering them like some salty know-it-all jerk.

He had a surprisingly interesting background and a likable personality.

He was a trap.

A gravity meta-wave passed through the enclosed space. For this once, it was not centered on Jay. He didn’t bore the Chance bullseye. It wasn’t negative. But it was definitely a heart-jerker.

“No!” Emily shouted, scaring Malcolm and Cutie. The Systemless backed away as Emily’s magic unbound itself from around her.

The room’s temperature dropped fast. Disturbed ghosts muttered mad utterings that the Systemless could hear. Tools flew from their racks and clattered around the room. The abuela started raving in the living, losing her mind as the Death [Medium] lost control.

“Emily, balance,” Jay said, his breath coming out as an icy fog.

“But–”

“Balance, Emily, please,” Jay said with more force.

Emily wasn’t listening.

Tim stepped around and grabbed hold of her arms, ignoring the frigid coldness, pestering ghosts, and thrown tools striking his body. He didn’t say anything. He just held her and stared intensely into her eyes, mesmerizing Emily long enough for her to escape the hold of distress and get her emotions under control.

She withdrew her Affinity, but it wasn’t as tightly bound as before.

Still good enough. The abuela calmed down. The tools stopped flying. The room didn’t freeze over, although it remained chilly.

Cutie held her rifle tightly as if to fend against the impossible powers of Champions. Malcolm held his hands up peacefully, painting himself as a harmless bystander regardless of all his gear and experience.

Jay tried not to look at him, which was easy. Withdrawing his spatial-g and refocusing it anywhere else but Malcolm’s direction required a bit more effort. It enhanced the details he received out at range when he honed his focus at a particular angle.

Twenty no-gravity holes flitted through the very edge of Jay’s redirected spatial-g.

“Tricky bastards,” Jay cussed, drawing everyone’s attention as he faced a toolbox.

He honed his spatial-g as a cone that reached out for almost three hundred feet. He waved it to the right, catching the no-gravity spots once again. Comparing one to the nearest wall, person, and series of objects had Jay measure them as child-size. Five feet tall at the very most.  But their numbers moving at speed above the rooftops sent chills down Jay’s spine.

“Twenty fliers,” Jay said. “Making holes in my spatial-g. They got something that’s disrupting it.”

Cutie got a grip of her fear and ran to Jay. Tim filled the spot next to Jay faster than her. They both had the same question, “Where?”

Jay concentrated on following the fliers. They were in a circling pattern that kept them within range. The fliers were looking for their next victim and… they found the next.

Jay gave the essentials: “Four kids on a motorboat. Three hundred feet east. Fourteen seconds to spare.”

Tim was out of the house in an instant, the [Dog Boon] Talent plus his [Swift and Slick] Skill boosting his Agility. Jay could’ve sworn he heard the guy growl on his way out, too. He was an attack dog now.

Tim would need every ounce of aggression he could eke out, too. He had to dash across a rain-slicked maze of shanties, trailers, and flooded lots gathered in a cluster between him and the kids. Inside fourteen seconds. Then fight a swarm of unidentifiable threats.

The moment Jay started moving, his spatial-g sense got a little wonky since he pushed it to its farthest range. He narrowed the width and condensed his focus on the kids and their motorboat. At the same time, he used his Gravity Skills to open doors and smoothly float out. The rest of Team Noir followed as he hovered past the hysterical family, out their front door, and came to a stop against a porch beam.

Jay put a hand out in front of Malcolm and said, “You have to stay here.”

“Why?” Malcolm questioned, taking on a harder stance than he had all night.

“You are marked for death, Malcolm,” Emily said shakily.

“Didn’t you say that already?” Malcolm complained.

The [Medium] shook her head. “This is different. This is–”

“Death Flag, old man,” Jay declared gravenly, the air rippling. “You’ll die tonight if we fail to avert the plot bullseye.”

Most people would pale when told they were going to die. Malcolm kept rolling forward with a can-do Midwestern attitude. “If I die, I die. But we need to help these kids.”

“Tim’s taking care of it,” Jay said, noticing the children accelerating their boat toward safety.

He swiveled his thin spatial-g cone to where Tim bounded from slippery rooftop to shoddy rooftop to dilapidated wall to the next precarious foothold. The [Fighter] stayed above water as the unidentifiable fliers dove at him and chased.

Jay wanted to dismiss Tim for now and establish Malcolm’s safety. But he noticed Tim struggling, barely a step ahead of the fliers while fighting back. The [Fighter] just managed to bring down one. But he’d been fighting long enough where he should’ve killed more.

The dead monster revealed its true form.

“I didn’t even tell you what it could be,” Malcolm said desperately. “It’s a bug. Multiple bugs. The marks match mandible bites!”

“Not just any bug,” Jay said as he hovered out from under the awning. “It’s a Floridian nightmare.”

Kleo shot ahead as a purple streak. Her g-thrusting wings pushed her to leave Jay behind quickly. His [Faerie] going forward alone could only mean the worst. Tim’s life was on the line. Jay had to linger to deliver commands before he could back up Tim and Kleo.

“Emily, call the Champions and catch up. Cutie, keep watch of Malcolm while you two warn everyone you can. Gangsters. CWG. Whoever. There aren’t big enough slippers to smack down these roaches.”

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