16

Friday Evening, January 21st, 2011

Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, Earth Bet​

A bit stunned, I looked to my left. The trooper who'd been driving was slumped forward, blood dripping off his chin. More blood was splattered against the driver's side window where his head must have struck the thick bullet-resistant polycarbonate.

I was about to check him for a pulse when I heard a feminine scream and looked out the windshield to see Hookwolf, in full metal wolf form, ram into Vista's green chestplate and send her flying back to slide to a stop on the pavement.

Shit. Hookwolf must have been what hit the side of the van. Didn't Vista get a scar from Hookwolf at some point in Worm?

"I'm calling for help, stay down." That was Snow, the woman PRT trooper riding in back.

I put the steel of a commanding officer in my voice. "Hookwolf and Vista are out there. Get the van ready to drive," I ordered, and pulled the driver's Glock out of his leg holster.

"You can't-" Snow started, and I cut her off. "Have to," I said. "Or she's dead. Get the van ready to drive," I repeated.

I paused at the last second, realizing that I was about to do improbable things in public and had nothing to cover my face with. I cast my gaze around looking for something, and my eyes fell on the black, full face shield trooper helmet the driver had taken off and set at my feet.

He must not have thought he'd need it while he was inside of the van, but if he'd been wearing it he'd probably still be conscious.

"Wait-"

Ignoring Snow I picked up and pulled on the helmet with only a little struggle to get it to slide over my glasses. Then I was out the door, pistol aimed at Hookwolf and supported in both hands. He was approaching Vista, who was still laying prone on the pavement on her back.

"Hey!" I shouted, and was momentarily surprised to find the helmet amplifying my voice. Useful feature.

Hookwolf ignored me as he stalked toward the downed Ward, so I squeezed the trigger and put a bullet into the side of his head.

It pinged off uselessly, but it got his attention. His head snapped in my direction, and his blue eyes - the only part of him in his wolf form that wasn't steel grey - narrowed.

My heartrate picked up, and I forcefully shoved away any attention I might otherwise have paid to the cold chill of fear that crept through my gut.

Why was he even attacking her? He had to know that killing Wards was a bad idea. Did he not care? Did he only intend to hurt her?

I supposed it didn't matter.

"That's right, I'm talking to you, you Nazi piece of shit!"

He didn't turn back to Vista, but he didn't move toward me, either. I needed him to not finish her off, and that meant I needed to get him to attack me. But how?

He was all about the stupid warrior ethos. So perhaps...

"You gonna go after the defenseless little girl like a coward, or are you gonna fight someone who can actually fight back?!" I shouted. It was a transparently obvious ploy, but nothing better came to mind. And sometimes transparently obvious ploys still work.

He turned fully toward me at that, and growled in a low screeching cacophony of abused steel.

"Do I have to wave a fucking red cape? Come on!" I punctuated the taunt by squeezing the trigger again, causing another bullet to ping off his head near one eye, and leaving me with thirteen shots left. If he had any weakness in this form it was probably those eyes, but unlike the basketball sized eyes on Rachel's dogs these were human-sized eyes. Small, constantly moving targets.

I needed him closer.

He finally charged at me with a grinding roar and I raised one foot to rest on the front bumper of the PRT van. When he got close I fired, only to inwardly curse as the bullet missed by a quarter inch to hit steel with a spray of sparks instead of his right eye.

I twisted and jumped up onto the hood of the van, Hookwolf's momentum carrying him into the van's heavy steel push bars and armored grille with a noise loud enough I was thankful for the helmet muffling it. I could hear him lay a massive paw on the hood as he started after me and wasted no time making my way to the van's roof before I turned and took aim again. Every step came with the grinding of metal on metal as his namesake hooks ground into the armored van body.

Timely twists of the head saved him from the two shots I took next reaching his eyes. Ten left. He surprised me then with a higher leap than I'd expected that looked like it would bring him down right down on the center of the roof and on top of me, his huge grinding bulk nearly as large as the whole platform I was standing on.

Then he and the front of the van abruptly looked like they were getting further and further away, stretching out in a perception-warping way like taffy.

Vista was still in the fight.

Hookwolf growled and charged down the lengthened roof towards me. I took two more shots that both skittered off the steel of his snout, bringing my total down to eight. Then I took a running jump off the side of the van and caught the branch of one of the trees that lined the sidewalk. I'd just finished hauling myself up to stand when he rammed into the tree trunk, his attempt to leap onto and climb it causing the roots to rip out of the ground as it tipped over.

I jumped and made it to the roof of a one story men's clothing store. Looking behind me I saw Hookwolf leap for the lip of the roof from the ground only to fall short as Vista expanded space again. She was sitting up with one arm outstretched toward Hookwolf and the other clutched to the bleeding wound in her chest plate.

"Prometheus, reinforcement ETA?" I asked breathlessly.

"The Protectorate is six minutes out, Miss," Prometheus replied quickly. "Would you like assistance faster?"

"Yes please," I said, not quite sure what Prometheus had in mind and not really caring at the moment.

"Command acknowledged," Prometheus said. "Can you reach a 1,700 foot safe distance from the target, Miss?"

"What?! No!" I yelped, suddenly rather more concerned about what Prometheus was planning. Hookwolf was running towards the side of the building I was standing on, Vista's warped space extending the width of the sidewalk a hundred extra feet.

"Understood, standing down Tomahawk missile strike. Pursuing other options."

My stomach dropped out as I realized in horror what I'd just done. I'd given Prometheus enough hacking modules to make any military hardware that wasn't air gapped dance the can-can, and then given him an order to find help in a situation where my life was on the line.

And then my spare time for worrying came to an end as Hookwolf took another improbable leap and his front paws landed on the lip of the roof with a grinding shower of masonry dust. As his head cleared the edge of the roof I stepped forward, put the barrel of my borrowed gun to his right eye, and fired.

I didn't miss.

With a mixture of relief and satisfaction I watched Hookwolf let go and fall to the pavement below. He writhed and screamed with an unholy cacophony like a dozen angle grinders cutting into steel.

Then a hand was suddenly on my shoulder. Without conscious thought I flung myself to the side, tucked, rolled, and came up with my pistol pointed at my attacker's center mass.

"Whoa!" she said, holding up one empty hand. A round shield was in the other, a sword was belted at her waist, a brown cloak was draped over her shoulders, and her helmet had big mouse ears.

...Reading about the costume was one thing. Seeing it in person was another thing altogether.

I lowered my weapon. "Mouse Protector!" I said. She must have used her power to teleport straight to me. Which meant Prometheus must have told her Taylor Hebert was in trouble.

"That's me, the big cheese," she chuckled with a wide grin. "You're lucky I was all geared up. You're more interesting than I thought. What's..." she turned her head to take in the damaged PRT van, the writhing Hookwolf below, and the injured Vista.

"Bumblenuts," she grumbled. Or swore. It was hard to tell. "That's a fine problem you have there."

"Can you teleport other people?" I asked, hopeful.

"Nope," she said, and gestured dismissively with her shield. "Manton-whatchamacallit. But never fear, the Mouse is here, and that's enough."

She actually struck a pose when she said that.

Shaking my head, I peered over the edge of the roof. Hookwolf's shot out eye was obscured in a squealing new growth of jagged steel and his writhing came to an end. He rolled and shakily got back up on four legs.

"Citizen, I want you to get Vista into the van and get moving. I shall distract Hookwolf with a game of hide and squeak," Mouse Protector said, drawing her sword as her goofy grin shifted slightly to something eager.

I looked at her in disbelief. "There is something wrong with you," I said.

She faked a shiver. "Ooh, cold as mice."

I half laughed, half sighed.

"Geronimo!" she shouted, and jumped fearlessly over the edge.

Well, I certainly couldn't fault her bravery. Could she really enjoy this that much, or were bad puns how she dealt with stress?

Her sword buried itself deeply into one of Hookwolf's haunches on the landing and she pulled it out while executing a perfect roll to dissipate the energy of the fall. Despite the whirling metal of Hookwolf's body grinding against the blade it looked unmarked, but it certainly penetrated far deeper into steel than a normal sword should have. Tinkertech of some sort, then.

Hookwolf whirled and took a series of swipes at Mouse Protector, who ducked and dodged while cackling in evident joy and harrying his outstretched limbs and head as he exposed them.

I shook my head and took advantage of Hookwolf's back being turned to make my own way off the roof. I tucked and rolled with the landing, coming up with a grimace for the bruises I was going to have later. As soon as I was on my feet I sprinted for Vista's position.

"You don't look like a trooper," she said, and seemed about to say something more when a ragged cough got in the way. She was on her side, half-sitting up and half laying down.

"I'm someone with a PRT protective detail, I'll introduce myself later," I evaded. I eyed her wound. The breastplate had taken a beating, and probably saved her life. It was cracked vertically down the center and blood was welling up from a laceration, probably stopped from penetrating into anything vital by her sternum. I was more concerned about the way her breathing sounded labored. After an impact like that broken ribs were fairly likely. Or a punctured lung.

"This is going to hurt, but I need to get you on your feet and out of here. Mouse Protector won't be able to distract Hookwolf forever," I said, crouching. "Arm around my shoulder and I'll help you up."

She grunted as I hefted her, but to her credit she didn't cry out and managed to get her feet more or less under her.

"Were you patrolling alone?" I asked.

"Gallant," she said, breathless. "I had to lead Hookwolf away. Gallant can't fight him. Went for the closest PRT unit on my visor. Guess that was you. Sorry."

Gallant's ability to fire emotion beams was underpowered at the best of times. I doubted Hookwolf would even notice the kinetic impacts, and it seemed unlikely that anything could overcome his rage.

"It's okay," I reassured her. "That was brave. Come on."

The van started moving towards us, away from where Hookwolf and Mouse Protector were dueling. Through the windshield I could see that Agent Snow had managed to move her unconscious partner to the passenger seat.

I got the rear doors open and was helping Vista inside when a screeching roar caught my attention.

It looked like Hookwolf had sent Mouse Protector flying backwards with a strike to her shield, and he was now running towards us.

I pushed Vista the rest of the way inside and jumped in. "Go!" I shouted, and slammed the rear doors shut.

The tires squealed as Snow floored the accelerator and hit the emergency lights and siren. I braced myself against the rear doors and watched Hookwolf loping closer as we raced down the street and through intersections without stopping.

On the floor Vista was unconscious.

Too many things I couldn't do anything about.

"He's gaining!" I shouted, and did my best to push aside the tinge of panic.

"Hold on!" Snow said. I grabbed a handhold and was still thrown into the far wall as she took a turn at a speed that had the van briefly up on two wheels.

I got back to my feet with a groan. I looked behind us to see Hookwolf's churning metal paws tear up the asphalt as he made the turn and kept on us, only a hundred or so feet behind. I looked up front and saw that we were headed towards the highway. The van could probably outpace Hookwolf when it didn't have to fear getting rammed by cross traffic in an intersection, but that was still a mile off.

A hand was suddenly on my shoulder, and a slightly battered Mouse Protector was there. She looked behind and in front of us, just as I had.

"Not going to make it," she muttered.

"I know," I said.

She grasped the door handle. "I'll give him another piece of my mind."

"Wait," said a perfect imitation of my - Taylor's - voice from the phone in my pocket, tone urgent.

Mouse Protector turned to me in confusion. "What-"

Then a tremendous boom shattered every window on the street.

We both turned to look back out the rear window, our ears ringing. Glory Girl rose from where she'd accelerated downwards foot first into Hookwolf's head. The dazed metal monster receded into the distance, and Glory Girl was soon flying right behind the rear door of the van.

I opened it and she floated in. "Whew! That was awesome! I don't usually get to hit anything that hard," she said, grinning madly.

"Vicky!" I exclaimed.

"How did you do that?" Mouse Protector asked at the same time.

"I can get going pretty fast if I start high and dive," she explained. Then she looked down. "Oh no, Vista!"

Now that we weren't about to die I crouched, set aside the pistol I was still holding, and gave her a close look. Her heart rate was too fast, she was too pale, and her skin was clammy.

"Hypovolemic shock," I said distractedly, and leaned over her to apply pressure to the wound. "She must have lost more blood than I thought, or she's bleeding internally." I looked up towards the front of the van. "They both need a hospital!"

"Already on it," Snow grunted, gunning the engine as she merged onto the highway.

"Amy's at Brockton General tonight," Glory Girl said helpfully.

"I think that's where we're headed," Mouse Protector replied.

"Thank you both for the save," I said, looking at the two of them in turn. "I was in real trouble there."

"You saved my mom, of course I came when you needed help," Glory Girl said, her smile beaming. The world felt warm and full, and it took me a second to remember to push the feeling aside.

"Protector's part of the name, although Hooky wasn't what I was expecting," Mouse Protector said, slightly subdued. "What happened?"

"He was chasing Vista when he ran into the van," I said. "She was leading him away from Gallant, and went for the nearest backup."

"Ah," Mouse Protector said, and pulled a first aid bag out of an overhead cabinet. "Lousy luck."

"Yes, there seems to have been a lot of that lately," I said. "Give that here."

"You an EMT?" Mouse Protector asked, surprised.

"Something like that," I said.

"She kept my mom alive after she was shot," Glory Girl chipped in.

Mouse Protector looked between Glory Girl and me, and set the bag down beside me. I took my hands off of Vista's chest wound long enough to find what I was looking for.

"Elevate her feet twelve inches, please," I said. "And Mouse Protector, could you please go stabilize the injured agent's neck up front?"

She nodded and moved toward the front of the van. Glory Girl followed directions by lifting Vista's feet while I deftly stabbed her with an epipen, then peeled open a trauma pad and used it to put pressure on her wound.

"What was that for?" Glory Girl asked.

"She's lost enough blood that her body is having trouble transporting oxygen. I don't have a blood transfusion or IV fluids here, so the only option is to make her heart work harder with the epinephrine. It doesn't fix the problem, but it buys us time to get her to your sister or an operating table. I didn't see a lot of blood on the ground, so the hit she took probably ruptured an organ, or she's bleeding into her lungs," I explained.

"Is she going to be okay?" Glory Girl asked, worried.

"She's got some time," I said. "Hopefully the agent does too. Mouse Protector, pulse?"

"Yes," she answered.

I sighed. That wasn't quite what I meant.

"Open his eyes. Do his pupils look large?" I asked more firmly.

There was a brief pause while Mouse Protector got his eyelids open. "One of them does," she called back. "That's bad, right?"

"Unconsciousness for several minutes, uneven pupillary dilation. Definite traumatic brain injury, possible subdural hematoma," I recalled, letting knowledge pour out of my mouth without bothering to filter it. "He needs intubation, imaging, and probably an OR and a neurosurgical team. If he is bleeding in the brain the survival rate is about fifty percent." With 2011 medical technology, anyway. "Keep his neck steady and make sure his breathing remains unobstructed."

"Shit," swore the conscious agent up front, and the scarred van protested as she pushed it even faster.

I could only agree with the sentiment.