“Nobody!” said Caitlin. She grabbed hers and Lindsey's arms. “Come on, let's just go inside. They're not worth it.”

The smoker focused her attention on Chase. Her previous comments had been shotgun blasts, aimed at the whole posse of cheerleaders; now she had an individual target. She barked out a laugh. “What did you just say? 'Who you kill' what? Was that English?” She jerked a thumb at Chase and gave the other three cheerleaders a smirk. “I think you dropped this one too many times.”

Some of the other scary kids laughed. Chase turned red. “I...I not drop! Not talk so good, not lots words yet, but am get more and more.”

The skateboarder realized something and grabbed onto cig girl's fishnet sleeve to get her attention. “Wait...Maxine, this is that girl who killed that sniper at the football game!”

Maxine looked at her, then back at Chase. Her eyelids drooped, unimpressed, and she took another lackadaisical drag. “Yeah? What do I do? Curtsy or kneel?”

Lindsey was getting really mad. She jerked her arm free of Caitlin, then stepped forward to jab a finger at Maxine. Her other had clenched into a fist down by her hip. “Lay off her, you jealous bitch. You're just mad because she's pretty and popular, and you're NEITHER.”

To Chase's eyes, this wasn't entirely true. She couldn't make a judgment as to Maxine's popularity, but she thought she was very pretty. There was a flashy, contrasting style, all black and netting on pale white skin, and a body type that wasn't too different from Lindsey's, except maybe devoid of athleticism. What really stood out to Chase were the girl's eyes. Bold and daringly wide-set, they gave her beauty a striking edge that the cheerleaders' more conventional good looks didn't have.

These eyes narrowed threateningly as Caitlin grabbed Lindsey again. “Seriously, Lindsey, knock it off. Let's just get out of here.”

“Good idea. Better listen to her,” snarled Maxine. “You're about two seconds from getting—”

A hand fell on Maxine's shoulder. She looked over it, and then, seeing the hand belonged to someone taller than she expected, upwards. It was the guy with the hood.

Maxine was not a short girl. She was nearly as tall as Chase, and Chase was well above average height for a girl her age. Heck, Chase was usually even taller than most guys she came across. Definitely not this one, though. He was bigger by at least six inches, from the looks of it.

When he spoke it was in a soothing voice, clearly meant to calm his friend down. “Come on, Maxine. You too. Just take a breath, okay?”

Maxine looked like she wanted to argue, but ultimately, she bit her tongue. Violently shrugging his arm off her, she glared at the cheerleaders, then turned her back and stormed away.

With the removal of this element, the confrontation seemed defused. Caitlin successfully herded Lindsey away, and Alicia was very grateful to join them. As Chase turned to follow, she cast a final, curious glance towards the scary kids.

Skateboard wheels clacked to the pavement and the scary kids resumed their business. The hooded guy turned away without noticing her scrutiny. Chase watched them for a moment, then ran to catch up with her friends.

...

Caitlin led the invasion of her apartment. She poked her head in the front door and gave the living room a visual sweep. “Okay, yeah, my mom's gone. Come on in, Chase.”

She opened the door, and the girls filed inside. Chase brought up the rear. It didn't take her long to get a grip on her surroundings, as they were very small, even smaller than Lindsey's trailer. The living room and kitchen were in immediate view, all one room. A short hallway branched off, with three doors attached that probably led to two bedrooms and a bath. That was it. The simplicity and compactness were definitely to her taste.

“And you're sure she's not coming back?” asked Lindsey.

“Nah, she won't be home until like eight. We'll be fine.”

“Oh yeah? Whatcha got planned?” asked Caitlin's mom, walking out of the bathroom. “You guys throwing a party or something?”

They all yelped and jumped. “M-m-mom!” Caitlin gasped. “Wh-whwhat are you doing here?! I thought you were working!”

The young woman shook her head. Her hair was the same straight black as Caitlin's, although it was cropped into an efficient pixie cut. “Yeah, I'm heading out right now. My shift changed, remember? I'm on night patrol now.” She was dressed in the blue uniform of the Sunnycrest Police Department.

Caitlin had explained to Chase soon after they met that her mom was a cop. Since Chase was currently a wanted fugitive, it went without saying that keeping the two from meeting was in Chase's best interest.

Amused at having caught her daughter in the act of something or other, Caitlin's mom gave a grin and teased, “So, spit it out. What didn't I get invited to?”

“N-n-n-nothing at all!” replied Caitlin, not-so-subtly trying to hide Chase behind her. “I just, uh, brought some friends over to show them my Harvest dress.”

Obviously, there was no way she'd believe such an outrageous fairy tale. She gave her daughter a sly look, then threw a surprise arm around her shoulders. “Aw, c'mon, Cait. I'm cool, right?” she joked. “You can tell me. I might throw you in the slammer, but you can tell me.”

Then, the woman noticed Chase behind her daughter. All four teenagers felt their lungs ossify simultaneously.

“Oh, who's this?” She knew most of her daughter's friends. Caitlin had had Alicia and Lindsey over many times. But this girl was someone new.

“This is, uh, Chase,” said Alicia. “She's...she's new.”

Caitlin's mom regarded Chase in silence for a moment, while the girls held their breath. “Yeah? You on the squad, Chase?” she asked her in a friendly way. The cheerleaders breathed a sigh of relief. Caitlin's mom didn't recognize her.

Chase was uncertain how to respond. Her instinct was to lie, but Caitlin's mom had a bold, boyishly exuberant voice that made her seem very trustworthy. “Yes! Chase cheer,” she answered. “Does love to flip and yell and throw girls.”

Caitlin answered her mom's cocked eyebrow with: “English isn't her first language.”

“It isn't even her second, yet,” added Alicia.

The cop smiled. She held out a hand and Chase shook it. “Well, pleasure to meet you, Chase. Hope you enjoy your time in Sunnycrest.”

She gave Caitlin a peck on the cheek and the traded an “I love you, sweetheart” for a “Love you too, Mom.” As she was heading out the door, she looked back at them and said, “Have fun, girls. But NO parties.”

Lindsey held up her backpack. “I swear, Officer. All we're going to do is smoke this backpack full of crack.”

Caitlin's mom laughed. “Alright, just be careful.”

…

In the basement of Sunnycrest Police Headquarters, Lawrence's pimply face was twisted in horrified shock. Inside a tall, transparent tube, suspended in some kind of bubbling green liquid, was a mutilated young woman. A breathing apparatus covered her nose and mouth, and her long brown hair waved weightlessly behind her.

“H-holy cow!” he stammered. “That's...that's that girl, isn't she? The one who went missing in McGuff's Pass!”

He was not talking to himself, or to the girl. Also present in the basement was a young man, sitting in a metal folding chair. He wore a crisp black suit on his somewhat thin frame, his blonde hair in a coif and an engaged expression on his face. “That's her. Amazing, right? I don't believe your local police really expected to find her. Certainly not alive!”

Lawrence's disbelief doubled. He tried to glance at the girl to get a more thorough assessment of her wounds, but failed, looking away in revulsion. “Sh-she's alive? Im...impossible. The blood loss alone...”

“Would you like to take a moment, son?” the man asked, sounding concerned. Raw, harsh light fell upon them from an exposed bulb in the ceiling.

The teen briefly considered this offer, then shook his head. “No, I'm fine. It's just...she goes to my school. I saw her around the halls every day, I've even had a couple semesters worth of classes with her. My memories of her are...a bit different, that's all.” He dared to look again. She didn't have quite so many of her insides on the outside, back then. He shivered at them, then replied to them with, “She must have a serious will to live.”

When the man's voice sounded again, Lawrence could hear a smile framing it without having to look at him. “And with that, my boy, you have touched on part of why she is so important. She has a will. A drive. There is an enemy in her life she must defeat, and she will not give in to death until she does so.”

The chair squeaked, and its rubber-sheathed feet dragged slightly across the cracked cement floor. The man in the corner was standing up and drawing identification from the inside of his suit jacket. “Which brings me to the main reason I have brought you here. My name is Agent Stevens. I am here on behalf of the United States Government.” Lawrence looked at the man's ID long enough to confirm it was real before Agent Stevens tucked it away again. “Her enemy, and our enemy...well, it just so happens they are one and the same. There is a threat facing Sunnycrest and this entire nation. An evil which preys upon its innocence. This girl has faced this threat twice before. And twice, she has survived it. She has more experience in dealing with this unique threat than anyone else on the face of the earth. As someone who has taken a vow to protect and serve the citizens of the United States, it is in all of our best interests that she and I collaborate.”

Lawrence gulped. “And...and what do you want me to do?”

“Well, as you can tell, she's not exactly in any condition to fight,” he answered. “I want you to fix her up.”

The boy smiled uncertainly. “You, uh, you can't be serious, sir. I'm in the Engineering Club. I specialize in robotics. I'm not a doctor.”

“Now now, Lawrence. Don't sell yourself short,” said the man. “I know you're hoping to one day apply your work to the field of prosthetics. What better time to start than now?”

The boy opened his arms imploringly. “Well, sure. I mean, if she was just missing a hand or something. But to get that girl up and walking around, she'd have to be more machine than person! It can't be done!”

“Nonsense, my boy.” said Agent Stevens cheerfully. Lawrence followed him to a file cabinet, and watched the man extract a manila folder. “If anyone can do it, you can. Why, I've even got a few ideas drawn up for you to work from.”

He handed the folder to Lawrence. The boy opened it up and began flipping through the designs and conceptualizations. With every flip, his eyes grew a bit wider. “This is...we're talking about a lot more than just standard prosthetics.”

“But you can do it, right?”

Lawrence looked at a few more pages, then his eyes flicked up to the man. “Even if I could...there are...ethical considerations.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

He gestured at the girl. “Is this what she wants? I can't ask her and she can't answer me.”

“You don't think she wants to live?”

“Living is one thing. Fixing her is one thing,” said Lawrence, handing him one of the designs from the folder. “You're asking me to turn her into a Swiss army knife. And another thing, why are you asking a civilian kid to do this? Doesn't the government have their own top secret technicians they can turn to? You're not acting with the blessing of your bosses, are you?”

The basement was silent for a moment, except for the bubbling of the vat and the humming of life support systems. Then, the man laughed. “Lawrence. Lawrence,” he coaxed, putting an arm around the boy's skinny shoulders. “You're a smart kid. I suppose this does seem a bit suspicious. But the government does this all the time. We prefer to work with locals on cases such as these. People who know the environment, people who know the people involved. Of course, you'll be sworn to secrecy, but you'll be serving your country. And if things work out well here, if we're impressed with your work, it could open a lot of doors for you. That's how half of those top secret government technicians you're talking about got their jobs. It's not exactly something you can apply for.”

Lawrence was thoroughly romanced by this proposition. “Well...”

“Plus, you still want to get revenge on those mean cheerleaders who broke your little heart, don't you?”

The boy frowned. “Are you implying I could use her to help me get back at them? She's a cheerleader herself, chief. She'd never agree to it.” He looked back at the girl, and his annoyed frown softened to one of pity. “I don't see how—”

“I know you don't,” Agent Stevens interrupted. “But I promised you we would help each other, and I meant it. This is the only thing you need to do. This is going to get us both exactly what we want.” He smiled. “You trust your government, don't you?”