The Web of the Weaver Chapter 3

Sunday passed all too quickly. I had some money, but not much.

I ruthlessly stomped on my sense of annoyance that so many businesses were cheapskates. For all they knew, I was setting them up for a swindle. But I had three hundred and fifty dollars— more money than I’d ever had, at least personally. Not enough to buy gadgets from Toybox, or more than a few items from the Boardwalk’s tourist traps, but enough to buy what I needed.

A martial arts store provided me with a Taser and escrima sticks. I’d have to learn how to use them, other than flailing. For now, if I was dumb enough to get into a fight, I’d depend on my Taser, my pepper spray, and my bugs. But I wouldn’t stop there.

Another store sold me a load of old walkie-talkies. I could take them apart and use them for both speakers and microphones, especially once I figured out which ones worked.

My last purchase, and my biggest, was a hundred-dollar parabolic microphone. Supposedly it could hear voices from over 300 yards away. If I didn’t have a walkie talky set up,  it would help me listen to anyone while talking to them, without revealing that I actually couldn’t hear through my bugs.

Everyone thinking I could hear through my bugs, or just hear by some mysterious method, was going to be a very important part of my work.

When I returned home, I put my homework aside. Why bother? At first, it was because Emma and her cronies would wreck it.

But now, I had more important work to do.

I only talked to Dad a little bit, telling him I had a project in mind. Most of the evening, I spent taking the walkie-talkies apart. Without their cases and speakers, my bugs could move them, though it looked a little weird.

Huh. If I’d just waited a day I could have bugged—I shook my head. A recording device was one thing. Something modified that just popped up was another thing, something less likely to be written off as a student’s work.

By the time I finished, it was late, and I’d have to get up for my jogging tomorrow. Normally this was the time I dreaded, waiting for school.

I still didn’t like it. But now was different.

Now I had a mission.

*****

Walking up to Winslow I kept my eyes out for Sophia, Emma, or Madison. Julia looked at me, smirked, and asked her friends if they smelled anything.

I didn’t respond. Those insults had long since lost any ability to sting. But now, I started establishing my bodyguards. Insects started to dig burrows, especially near where the heating system took the chill off. One of my biggest vulnerabilities as the fact that most insects were vulnerable to the cold.

But there were ways around that. Termites and ants dug burrows and opened them up, while other insects funneled in. I’d found some wasps and they would start laying eggs, no longer needing to go out into the cold to get food. No, the ants and termites would bring food to them. In a few weeks, I would have several thousand wasps, waiting out of sight for my call if anyone got serious.

“Oh Taylor, I thought you’d be with your Merchant friends,” Emma said. The girls around her giggled, while some seniors rolled their eyes as they headed to class. Seniors had little to do with us, after all. But I didn’t respond. I just put a fly under her collar. Now I could track her, and a few moments later, when Sophia joined her, Sophia.

Madison was a non-entity. She’d just followed around with the other two, but Sophia was the important one.

The fact that I hadn’t brought my homework wasn’t commented on. Most of the teachers had long since decided that Emma was right and I was just destroying my own homework.

In the basement, a swarm tore apart a luckless rat.

My expression didn’t change.

But after school, I didn’t head for my bus. I was going to be walking. Emma and Sophia were stopped by the side of the school. I followed them, staying out of sight among the students.

For most students, bullying was a purely school activity. They had other problems once school ended.

So why Emma? Why did she get so… dedicated?

I paused in an alcove, just out of sight. Most everyone else was heading for the front of the school.

“So, are we gonna do it tonight?!”

“Keep your voice down!” Sophia hissed. “Yeah. I gotta work for Piggy, but I’ll be out by eight, and we can meet at the normal place, and then we can have some fun.”

“Cool, I—“

“Unless you fucking bring your phone.  Remember, the PRT can track that shit.”

Wait, what? PRT?

“I got a burner phone!” Emma replied. “It’s…” her voice went low. But I withdrew. I didn’t want to risk them suddenly coming around.

Why would Sophia be worried about the PRT?  Who the hell is Piggy?

Good news, I’d be ready tonight, and I knew where Sophia was going—she was going to meet Emma at the normal place, and Emma would be staying at home until then. More than enough time to get ready, and after that, I could collect my recorder from the closed school. I nodded to myself as I left, putting the body of the school between myself and my quarry. They were heading to the buses. Myself… I’d be taking another route. I needed some time to think, after all.

*****

By the time I got home, I had made my plans. First of all, I was going to get a burner phone. I suppose I should thank Emma, especially since the idea of a cell phone made my skin crawl, after what had happened to Mom.

But I needed one. I couldn’t depend on a pay phone, especially in the Bay. What Dad didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

Bad news, I was broke again. Still, just because only four of my clients had donated now, didn’t mean the others wouldn’t, and there were hundreds of businesses in the Bay. Besides, getting too much money that way might attract attention.

I left a note for Dad, that I would be studying at the library and that if I was going to be past ten, I’d call from a friend’s house. The fact that I had no friends was something he wouldn’t know.

He’d probably be grateful that we weren’t going to have some more awkward talks.

Come to think of it, so was I.

But it was time to get ready. I put my armor on. I had changed the design. Now it was an underlayer, invisible beneath the longcoat and I had some other ideas for improving that, but right now, especially in the cold weather, nobody would give me a second glance. The dark hat, a cross between a cowboy hat and a fedora, nicely disguised my hair. If I needed to “go public” which I didn’t expect, the scarf would conceal my face. The best thing was, I could gear up, or go civilian in a few seconds. That would be important.

Emma’s house was within walking distance, and I’d be there by seven. The backyard butted up against an overgrown slope where Emma and I had played, a few years and lifetimes ago. There was a treehouse there, not owned by anyone, just something someone had set up in the overgrown section of the slope. It had been Protectorate HQ once.

Now it was just a bunch of wood. But I could use it.

Probably the first time a parahuman had been there in truth, not just in childhood fantasies.

When I got there, I quickly used the bugs in the woods to ensure nobody else was there. I could detect three forms in their house. Emma, Zoe, and Alan, I bet.

I leaned back and pulled out the parabolic microphone. If the Barnes had any right of privacy, Emma had long since squandered it.

The microphone was hard to use, often picking up the wrong thing. I heard a dog barking beyond the home, then a rumble of a truck, as I fiddled with the controls.

Evidently, the instructions had been…optimistic in terms of how hard it was to use. Especially the part about its ability to hear through walls. I was just about to give up when the door opened, and Emma’s voice nearly blasted my eardrums apart.

“Mom, I’m going to see Sophia! I’ll be back!”

“Be back by curfew young lady, or you’ll be grounded.”

“But what if the movie goes over!”

“Then I expect you to call us first.”

And then I saw Emma, walking down the street. It was at the edge of my bugs, but I could see her.

What is she wearing? Emma hated to wear drab, but she had boots on, a serviceable jacket, not at all like the pink fleece thing she wore to school, jeans, and that was it. Not what Emma would wear to the movies. But she was moving fast, and I quickly got out of the treehouse. I could beat her to the intersection and stay far enough behind her that she wouldn’t notice me, especially once I put a bug on her. The big danger would be if she took a bus or a cab, but if that happened, I’d just have to try another day.

But she didn’t. Emma kept walking, and that was unusual. Emma didn’t like to walk. She headed out of the neighborhood, and down to the local park.

The fuck? Neither one of our families had allowed us to go there after dark. Everyone knew Merchants hung out there.

But… As Emma turned and walked under the dark trees, with only a few lights working, another figure entered the range of my bugs.

I stayed back, moving to another sidewalk that was screened by the plants. I pulled out the mic, and this time, it gave much better results. The voices were distorted, but I could understand them both—and who they belonged to.

Sophia.

“Got it?” Emma sounded eager.

Fuck, is Sophia a merchant? Piggy sounded like what a Merchant boss would call himself.

“Yeah. You got your gloves?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Good. C’mon, we’re gonna get some Merchants.”

“What did Piggy want?”

“My psychologist is concerned that I’m not properly dealing with my issues.” If I don’t figure a way to sweet-talk her, I’ll be on console, so I really want to fuck up some assholes tonight. Also, we have a fucking teammate that I can’t get rid of, because Piggy decided she wants him.”

“You’re the best though!”

“Yeah, Piggy doesn’t think so.”

So, not a Merchant. Then who was Piggy? And Sophia had a psychologist? I shook my head. The two were moving, and I couldn’t use the microphone while I was moving. I kept paralleling them on another sidewalk as we moved deeper into the park. Broken benches, overflowing trashcans, and every other light being out lent it the feel of a graveyard. Kids had once played here, now only mothers who didn’t care about their kids getting stuck by used needles came here.

They paused, and I couldn’t see where they were going. The fly on Sophia was detecting movement, but I wouldn’t figure out quite what it was. Ditto for Emma.

But then I felt a group of other individuals, notable by the head and pubic lice I was detecting. I wrapped the scarf around my face and took out the cloak, fastening it to the longcoat. If I had to get involved, I didn’t want to risk anyone, especially Emma and Sophia realizing who I was. But they were heading straight for—

The fuck? Sophia did something, and my fly felt strange for a moment, but then she was in the trees. Sophia was athletic, but that had to be at least a ten-foot jump. There was no way…

She talked about the PRT, and the PRT handles parahumans. If Sophia’s a parahuman would explain why she’s worried about them…

Was she a villain? A vigilante?

“You ready?”

“Yeah!” Emma said nothing else, and I moved through the plant growth. Now I could see her, under the few working lights, walking towards the other group I had tagged. She had a scarf over her head, obscuring her red hair. That, and her bulky clothing, disguised her pretty effectively to the people approaching her.

Merchants. Now that I could see them, it was plain.

Emma, what the hell? Bullying me wasn’t like going after three men. Now that I had a direct view of her, I saw her swinging a baseball bat.

“Oh, look, little girl thinks she has a big tool!”

“I’ll show her a tool…”

Emma didn’t say anything, but in the light of the few working park lights, I could see a grin stretch her face. There was something off about it. Fear. Anticipation. Excitement.

And then suddenly, a shadowy figure darted down, the light shining through it. Just as it got close to one of the men, it solidified, and suddenly Sophia was there, her face masked, bringing a bat around to smash into the first man’s knee. The ugly cracking sound was followed by his shriek of agony, even as Emma darted forward, bringing her own bat up and into the face of the second Merchant starting in disbelief.

Blood and teeth flew into the air, and the crack announced the fact that his jaw had been broken.

I didn’t move, even as the third Merchant turned and ran. He vanished around the path, but I had a bug on him, and he didn’t slow down even as he left my perception.

Damn…

Emma turned around and raised her bat to bring it down on one screaming form, but Sophia was there.

“Hey—hey! Survivor, remember that we don’t want a dead body. Cops don’t care about people getting busted up, but killed can get attention.” She turned to the Merchant. “Give us your drugs.”

“Fuck—AH!” The man shrieked as Sophia put her foot on his shattered knee.

“Want me to let my friend loose?” Soon, there was a little pile of drugs, while Emma and Sophia zip-tied the two.

Emma took out a little can of lighter fluid, and she poured it all over the drugs, and then Sophia lit them on fire. I couldn’t see her expression, not through her mask, but I could hear the satisfaction in her voice.

“Gonna have to get your high from somewhere else,” she said. “C’mon. Survivor, let’s go and call some cops.” She looked down at the sobbing men. “Hope you didn’t bust up the phone for change or maybe we’ll just forget and let you stay here until morning…”

With that, she high-fived Emma and the two turned and walked away.

I didn’t follow them. I had expected… not this.

And worse, I knew that power. I’d watched her introduction, after all. Shadow Stalker, of the Wards.

But now… She’s worried about the PRT. That implied they didn’t know what she was doing. But on the other hand, it made sense that the PRT might protect her at school…

And Survivor? I shook my head. I knew more, but there were even more questions. I couldn’t go to the PRT, not yet. I didn’t have any evidence other than my word, and that assumed the PRT didn’t know what she was doing.

I slowly moved away. The men were hurt, but not dying. I’d wait for a while, and if there were no police, I’d call them myself.

The next step was to retrieve my recorder and find out if Blackwell had said anything incriminating. If not, I might have to have a more… personal interview with her.

By the time I was on the street, I’d put the scarf around my neck, and rearranged my clothes, so I was just another pedestrian hurrying for the bus, all my incriminating gear concealed.

I smiled. The night had been… profitable. Now to make use of what I had learned.

Sophia Hess… I think you’re going to have a very bad month. Emma had worshiped capes. What little girl hadn’t? And she’d started to turn the moment Sophia had met her. Now, all I needed to do was find out the whole story.