Chapter Thirty-Eight: ‘O, burgeoning snare...’

Stoker followed Karkash into the King’s office again. He didn’t know what had gotten the other man so upset. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to find out, either, but Karkash did not seem willing to allow otherwise.

Karkash laid a newspaper out on the desk, and Stoker and Desmond both looked at it. There was an article on the third page, talking about the so-called Darksteel Soldier, now known to be a criminal by the name of Hector Goffe.

“This person is a servant,” said Karkash.

“Oh, yeah,” said Desmond. “I was meaning to go and kill that guy, but I haven’t had the time.”

“You know him?” said Stoker.

“I think so. We fought a few weeks back. I didn’t catch his name, but I’ve heard about him using metal, so I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy.”

“You let him get away?” said Karkash.

Desmond just shrugged.

Karkash’s eyes were daggers. Desmond seemed immune to their effects, however.

‘You should have hunted him down already,’ said Hoyohté. ‘What if he returns with reinforcements?’

Desmond laughed, and his eyes widened. “I hope he does! I’ve been bored out of my skull!”

Ezmortig floated around his servant. ‘Come to think of it, this Hector Goffe could be the reason Ozmere and Moss have not returned.’

Desmond’s brow receded. “Hmm, you think so? He didn’t seem strong enough to take down Moss.”

‘Perhaps he is more dangerous than we realized,’ said Ezmortig. ‘It is strange that he is not hiding like the Queen.’

“Oh!” said Desmond, grinning. “You’re right. It’s like he’s taunting us with all this media coverage, isn’t it? Maybe he wants us to come after him, eh? If so, that’s pretty damn ballsy.”

And suddenly, Stoker saw the opportunity there. On a silver platter. Right in front of his face.

Nize got there before him. ‘Stoker and I will go hunt him down.’

Desmond looked at her. “Really? It’s not like he’s actually important. Even if he is giving us the middle finger, right now.”

‘No,’ said Hoyohté. ‘Karkash and I will go.’

Desmond blinked at her, too. “Why are you all raring to go kill someone you’ve never even seen? I told you he’s not important. Don’t you have more pressing matters to attend to?”

‘That is why we will go by ourselves,’ said Hoyohté. She turned to Nize and Stoker. ‘We will only be gone a day--two at the most. You can handle matters in the meantime, yes?’

“Of course,” said Stoker. ‘This works, too,’ he thought. ‘As long as we don’t have Karkash breathing down our necks, sneaking out of the city will be simple. The others won’t notice until we’re long gone.’

Nize privately concurred.

‘You shouldn’t go alone,’ said Ezmortig. ‘We don’t know how strong the enemy is.’

“Not necessary,” said Karkash. “We know he uses metal.”

‘...So?’

“So he’s already fucked,” said Stoker. “Karkash can control electromagnetic fields.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Colt’s meditation went surprisingly smoothly. He hated it, but now that it had become the difference between being able to safely hold his children and not, he started taking it much more seriously. Within a day, he was able to not only keep his power subdued, but he could also target an object half a meter away from him. However, its actual destructive power still seemed incredibly weak. He couldn’t even break a solid pane of glass on the first try. He took to practicing his aim against a chalk circle he’d drawn on the wall.

Aiming was also a bit awkward for him. The path of destruction sprung from Colt’s hands, but just putting an open palm forward was too clumsy and inaccurate, he felt. He tried putting two fingers forward like a childish pistol, but that wasn’t doing it for him, either. In the end, he just used an unloaded gun and adjusted for the slightly off-center firing point for its invisible “bullets.” He found it much more comfortable.

After a while, though, he stopped. He did find the power interesting, but at least for now, a regular gun was still much more useful. The only upside he could see to this was that it didn’t require ammo. He supposed another plus might be that it didn’t have the potential to jam like a normal gun did, but Colt always made sure to take proper care of his firearms and stayed away from models that were prone to operating problems, anyway.

He bathed the kids in a wash basin one at a time, gave them fresh diapers, and then fed them.

‘I’m curious,’ said Bohwanox. ‘What do you intend to do with them when they are older?’

For a time, Colt didn’t answer. That was a question he had been dreading. “I’m not sure,” he eventually said.

‘Have you not given it much thought?’

“No, I have. I just. Haven’t come up with a good answer.”

‘Hmm. If you intend to stay on the run indefinitely, what kind of life could you provide for them?’

Colt only stared at them.

‘I’m guessing you don’t see a foster home as a viable option.’

“They aren’t going to grow up in a place like that. Not as long as I’m still breathing.”

‘What’s wrong with foster homes?’

Colt eyed the reaper. “Go haunt one for a few years and then ask me that question again.”

‘Is that personal experience I’m hearing or just the jaded view of an ex-cop?’

His mouth twisted distastefully. “Both.”

‘I am sorry to hear that,’ said Bowhanox.

“I was fine,” said Colt. “Other kids weren’t.”

‘...Because you beat the hell out of them?’

“What? No! Believe it or not, I was actually a pretty good kid.”

‘Not believing it.”

“I might’ve had a thicker skin than most kids, and I might’ve gotten into a few fights, but I wasn’t a fucking bully.”

‘Let me guess. You beat up the bullies, instead.’

“Pfft, no. I was like nine. They kicked the shit out of me.”

‘But you tried to beat them up, yes?’

“...Yes.”

‘I knew it.’

“What the fuck happened to keeping this relationship strictly professional?”

‘Oh, relax. Tough guy can’t even handle a bit of friendly ribbing.’

Colt just grumbled.

‘I am sure we could find a much better foster home, you know. Stake it out for a while, make extra sure that the caretakers are not hiding any monstrous secrets or anything.’

“Tch. Even if that were possible, what the fuck would I do without my kids, huh? What would my life become?”

Bohwanox hesitated. ‘Uh... gallantly protecting me from monsters?’

“Go fuck yourself.”

The reaper snorted a laugh. ‘I get it. They are your reason for living. But is that what is honestly best for them?’

“I’ll figure something out.”

‘Hmm. Then I will do my best to help with that.’

Colt cocked an eyebrow at the reaper. Their conversation was interrupted, however, when Garovel’s voice broke in.

‘Hey! You two!’ he said, descending from the roof.

They waited for him to elaborate.

‘So there are three helicopters and an army of cops chasing Hector right now.’

Colt had to snicker.

‘He’s on foot. I’m sure he’d appreciate you and your car.’

“We finally gonna leave this town?” he said, moving to gather their things.

‘Yeah, I’m thinking we should.’

“About damn time.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

‘Colt is en route,’ came Garovel’s voice from the other side of the city.

‘That’s nice.’ And not for the first time today, Hector tumbled off the roof of a building with more than twenty floors.

He pulled a pillar up from the ground to meet him, giving it a curve and turning it into a giant, spiraling slide. He swirled down, rolling over himself and banging against its iron siding until it spit him out onto the open road. He could feel his spine repairing itself as he struggled to his feet again.

He spotted a police chopper ahead, along with a fleet of trucks turning onto the street.

Hector ran up to the adjacent building and pulled a sudden iron tower up beneath his feet. He shot up, reaching the roof in seconds and then destroying both the slide and platform before running off again.

The police had been making it increasingly difficult to protect people--and for that matter, so had the people themselves. All the media coverage about the identity of the Darksteel Soldier and why the police were having so much trouble catching him had of course revealed Hector’s usage of metal to the general public; and once details of the Calman High massacre began to circulate, connections were soon made. Geoffrey’s puppets had suffocated because of freakish metal encasing, after all, and there wasn’t much hope of explaining that they were already dead and being used to kill even more people.

As such, the Darksteel Soldier had been labeled as no longer just a criminal, nor even just a killer. Now, he was a mass murderer. And that was enough attention so that almost anyone who saw him would immediately call the police. Even people he had just saved were quick to lose it and scream for help. Hector wasn’t looking for their praise, but it was still frustrating and tiresome all the same.

Garovel asked him for his location, and Hector gave it as best he could. He soon spotted all three helicopters still following him and jumped off the roof--this time intentionally--and landed on a shorter building. From there, he could leap down to the next street over without splattering against the concrete.

Hector dropped right in front of a group of policemen. They already had their weapons drawn and fired a slew of rounds at him before he could render their guns useless with iron. And even without their weapons, they still seemed intent on taking him down, moving to surround him. He didn’t want to go back up to the rooftops with the helicopters, so he just ran through the last gap in the police line.

More cops were waiting around the corner, however. And word must have gotten around about the ineffectiveness of bullets, because they were holding tasers instead. Six pairs of charged electrodes flew toward him on conductive wires. He stopped five with iron walls, but the last one found his shoulder.

He dropped to his hands and knees. The electricity didn’t hurt, of course, but controlling his limbs was abruptly difficult. He pressed a hand to the ground, and an iron pillar launched him up and over the officers. His landing was rough, but he was back on his feet quickly enough and running away again.

Next, four white-and-black SUVs skidded to a stop in front of him, but Hector just wrapped the vehicles in metal before the tactical teams could exit. He ran past and released the metal after turning the next corner.

Finally, he saw Colt’s car and ran toward it.

More cops got in his way, however.

A flash of anger ran through him. Why couldn’t they be this persistent about catching actual criminals? He’d delivered a local mob boss to their doorstep the night before, along with a whole cabinet of incriminating documents, but did that matter now? Of course not.

He covered their tasers in metal, then their legs, just enough to incapacitate them. He ran for the car again, but two more cops appeared and jumped on top of him. The anger returned, stronger.

He flung the first cop off, then grabbed the other’s arm and broke it. The man screamed out in pain.

Hector stopped, suddenly horrified with himself. That shouldn’t have happened. He wasn’t supposed to hurt cops.

For a moment, Hector could only stare at the cop writhing on the ground. He’d broken normal people’s bones before, but those had at least been violent criminals. This guy was just doing his job.

‘Hector!’ came Garovel’s yell. ‘Hurry up!’

More cops were coming. He knew he couldn’t stay. He threw the injured man a last look. “I’m sorry!” was all he could manage. He ran off and jumped into Colt’s car.

They sped off, but Hector could still see more helicopters and vehicles in pursuit.

“Can you put a barricade behind us?” said Colt.

“I don’t want to make them crash!” said Hector. “That could kill someone!”

Colt grumbled under his breath, and then said, “Fine. I’ll do it the hard way. Climb into the backseat and hold onto the kids for me.”

Hector did as the man said. The babies started whining as he nestled them in his arms, wrapping them in iron along with himself. He could feel the car’s speed climbing rapidly. They soon encountered a police blockade.

“Keep going,” said Hector.

“You sure?” said Colt.

“Yeah.”

Bridge structure was the first thing he studied when he visited the library the other day. Committing a few general designs to memory had been no great feat, and this time, the bridge he constructed was much sturdier. The ramp leading up to it was solid iron all the way through, providing ample support for the extension over the blockade, and the ramp leading back down was just as smooth. Hector annihilated the bridge behind them.

Colt had the reapers scout ahead for him, aiding his efforts to lose the helicopters. The man’s driving was frightening, yet still somehow precise. He could navigate around parked cars in narrow streets without losing much speed, and Hector frequently lost sight of the choppers between the tall buildings, which likely meant that they were having the same problem.

“You’re really good at driving...”

“This car’s a piece of shit.”

Bohwanox found them a tight intersection with a small underground tunnel, no doubt meant to let cars pass below the train tracks at ground level. Colt went into the tunnel, stopped the car when they were out of view, and then doubled back and turned down a different street.

The reapers soon confirmed that there was no one following.

Colt headed northeast. “So where the hell do we go now?” he said as they reached the city’s outer limits. “Still think we shouldn’t leave the country?”

The two reapers kept pace with the vehicle on either side.

‘Garovel, what do you think?’

‘I vote for Zeke.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s on the way to Walton, where we might have a friend.’ He looked at Hector. ‘Perhaps it’s time we gave Gina a call.’

“Who’s Gina?” said Colt.

‘Admittedly,’ said Garovel, ‘we don’t know all that much about her. But she and her boss helped us out before. She might not be so welcoming with all the attention Hector’s gotten, but it’s worth trying.’

Hector found her number in his cellphone, but the call didn’t go through. “I don’t have reception...”

‘Try again when we get to Zeke.’

“Right.”

The cabin grew quiet for a while. Hector removed his helm and watched the long stretches of tawny grassland pass by the window, flat as far as the eye could see with only the occasional tree to break the pattern.

‘How are you feeling?’ Garovel said privately.

Hector frowned. ‘Garovel, I hurt a cop...’

‘I saw.’

His frown only deepened.

‘It was an unfortunate accident,’ said Garovel. ‘Don’t get hung up on--’

‘No, I... I mean, that’s just it... I did it on purpose.’

The reaper was quiet a moment. ‘What?’

‘For a second there, I... I was just so pissed off... because of... because of everything, I guess.’ He rubbed his forehead and took a long breath. ‘The guy was like the hundredth person to get in my way, and I just... I lost my head... I wanted to hurt him. And I did.’

‘What are you saying?’ said Garovel, abruptly more seriously. ‘Hector, are you saying you don’t regret hurting that man?’

‘What? No! Of course I regret it! That’s what I was trying to say!’

‘Good. That’s the way it should be. Shit, you really had me worried for a second.’

‘What’re you--?’

‘Hector, listen to me. You’ve been through a lot. You made a mistake. You’ve acknowledged it. Now just don’t do it again.’

He furrowed his brow, blinking. ‘I mean, ah... of course, I’ll try, but what if I can’t? That’s what I’m worried about.’ He looked at his hands. ‘Honestly, I’m kinda scared of myself right now...’

‘You’ve been far too high-strung, lately. You know you have. Are you so surprised that it ended up affecting you?’

‘But... I didn’t think I’d hurt an innocent person...’

‘Well, you did. And don’t forget it. Remember this as a lesson. You have to take care of yourself, too. You’re not invincible. I know sometimes it might seem like you are, but you’re not. You have to keep a clear head.’

He gave a slow nod. ‘Is this... because I’ve been neglecting my meditation?’

‘I wouldn’t blame it all on that, but I do think meditation would certainly help you relax. As would some fucking rest.’

‘I, ah... I guess you’re right.’

‘Duh. Don’t you know by now how ridiculously wise I am?’

Hector tried to get some sleep. It did not go smoothly. Even after the enhancements wore off and the exhaustion kicked in, his brain still wanted to stubbornly hold on to consciousness. With nothing else to do, he just started to meditate right there in the backseat. And after a time of forcing himself to empty his head, he was finally able to fall asleep.

When he awoke, Stephanie and Thomas were both fidgeting in his arms. Then the smell hit him, hard enough to make his eyes water. Someone needed their diaper changed. Perhaps two someones.

Thankfully, they’d already stopped at a gas station, and Hector was quick to seek refuge in the air outside the car.

Colt was filling up the tank. The man smirked when he saw Hector. “Was wondering if you’d be able to sleep through that.”

Hector enjoyed another gulp of fresh air before responding. “Where are we?”

“Nearly to Maxwell,” said Colt. “Maybe you should try to call your friend again.”

“Ah... I could help you change the kids, if you want.”

“You know how to change a diaper?”

“Yeah. My, uh...” He frowned. “Yeah, I know how.”

“Mm. Still, you should call your friend. I’m fine changing them both.”

Hector nodded and pulled out his phone. To his surprise, he already had several missed calls from Gina. She’d sent a few texts, as well, all warning him that she thought someone might be coming to kill him. Not exactly news, generally-speaking, but she had details. Karkash. A man who could control electromagnetic fields.

Garovel floated over his shoulder, reading. ‘Looks like Gina’s been busy.’

He decided to give her a call.

She picked up after a single ring.

“Uh, h-hi.”

“Y-yeah.”

<“I’m not completely sure that they’re coming after you, to be honest. It sounded like they were talking to reapers, so I only caught half the conversation, but they mentioned someone who uses metal being in trouble because of Karkash--who, by the way, does not sound like a very nice person. After seeing you in the news, I figured the metal guy was you. What the hell happened to you, anyway? You didn’t actually kill all those people, right?”>

Hector blinked a few times. “N-no, of course I didn’t. How do you know about this Karkash, anyway? It sounds like you bugged someone or--”

“What?!”

said Gina.

“Er, thanks, but--agh, you shouldn’t have done that. It’s way too dangerous.”

‘Ask her what she’s learned about their plans,’ said Garovel. ‘And put her on speaker so Colt and Bohwanox can listen, too.’

Hector held the phone out as Garovel invited the other two over.

Hector clenched his jaw. The King’s sudden loss of a limb had of course been major news. The media attributed it to a freak infection, whereupon the arm had to be amputated in order to save his life. Hector and Garovel hadn’t bought that pile of horseshit for a second. “Do you know which one of them took his arm?”

“I’ve met him,” Hector said lowly.

‘A multinational conflict,’ said Garovel, eyeing the others. ‘Ask her which town they intend to destroy.’

“Which town?”

Colt tilted his head. “Why Harold? Why don’t they just stage the attack in the capital?”

“Sorry, this is Colt. He’s... an ally. You can trust him.”

‘At least not yet,’ added Garovel. ‘Ask her about Roman.’

“Is there any news from Roman?” said Hector.

“Ah--are they okay?”

“Th-thanks.”

“Ah--we were just on our way to Walton, actually. We were, uh, hoping for a place to stay. Temporarily, I mean.”

“Right...”

Hector eyed the others. Garovel shook his head, and Hector said, “No, that’s okay. We’ll figure something else out.”

“Thank you for the information,” he said. “And please, um. Be careful.”

“And if you, uh--if you--ah...”

“I-if you get into trouble, then please call me. I’ll come help you.”

She paused for a giggle. And she hung up.

“Pretty brave friend you got there,” said Colt.

“Yeah...”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Stoker concealed the tattoo on his face under a gray hood as he drove. There weren’t many ways out of Sescoria, at the moment. All the major roads were being watched, and the smaller ones had been closed off. It was fortunate, then, that Stoker was supposed to be the one watching the southern gate.

Or at least, it seemed fortunate--right up until Nize informed him that Karkash was standing in the middle of the road straight ahead. Arms folded. Waiting.

Stoker evaluated his options. Traffic was rather heavy. A high speed chase would be difficult, at best, and Karkash’s magnetism had a range of thirty meters. Any car within that distance would not be going anywhere unless Karkash allowed it. And if Nize abandoned Stoker to flee on her own, Karkash would surely kill her with soul-infused lightning; or, supposing she fled straight downward, Karkash would still be able to reach her underground with a soul-strengthened magnetic field.

However, given that Karkash had not already attacked them, perhaps a fight was yet avoidable.

Stoker pulled over and exited the vehicle. He stepped onto the grassy median with Karkash. The noise from the cars all around them meant he had to get closer to the man than he would have liked in order to exchange words.

“What are you doing out here?” Stoker said in Vaelish. “You were supposed to be hunting down the servant with metal.”

‘Have you truly not realized, even now?’ said Hoyohté, floating behind her servant. ‘We were never going to hunt that person down. He is unimportant. This was only ever a trap for the two of you.’

Stoker eyed them both carefully. He decided to feign innocence until there was no other option. “A trap? Why would you need to set a trap for us?” In the meantime, however, he took note of the cool afternoon air. That could prove helpful.

Karkash ignored the question and asked his own. “Where were you going?”

‘We received new orders while you were gone,’ lied Nize. ‘Our presence was requested in Kahm.’

‘Then I am sure you will not mind returning to the castle and having the others confirm that for us.’

‘Of course.’

‘After you, then.’

No one moved.