I trudged through ankle-deep water, hood up, head down. I'd taken the time to duck into an alley and throw my sweat suit over my costume. Now I looked like any other person on the streets, except I wasn't bleeding like all of them. It probably looked weird as hell, a girl with holes all through her clothes, clearly from the attack that just happened, but was entirely safe.
Not that anyone actually commented on that, everyone I encountered was in one state of shock or another. Within four blocks, I'd run out of medical supplies, not a block later I was out of water. That was alright, I could make do without. The people out here, lacking the support of someone like the PRT, needed it more anyway.
I guess I was in the same boat now, but...that didn't bother me too much. All the bubbling panic and acidic anxiety had settled into a cold sludge at the bottom of my stomach. Unpleasant, unsustainable, but a gift horse I sure as hell wasn't looking in the mouth. It felt like I could think finally, and now I didn't have to worry about getting other people in shit for my more...questionable choices. Like this one. Couldn't worry about that now though, I was on the clock.
My first stop was a shelter well outside downtown, in a neighbourhood called Wakefield. It was towards the uglier side of things, socially and Leviathan-wise; a good place to hide out really. If Amy wasn't there, then I could at least get a map and start working around the shelters I didn't know off the top of my head.
Lucky they'd made us memorize some backup places, in case we were on a field trip or something. Luckier that I managed to remember it at all. Maybe it was just proximity, but it was a hell of a lot easier to remember shit from Lia's life than mine. Right now, that fucking sucked though. When would Skitter and Tattletale find her? Fucked if I knew. When did Siberian start nibbling? Fucked if I knew. It could all be different anyway, with me around.
It had to be, if only because things going the way I remembered would be nightmarish. If things got that far...no, I wouldn't let them. I could stop it, even if I didn't have an exact timetable, I just needed to focus. That was asking a lot, I knew, but I could somehow manage; was managing so far. Granted it had only been half an hour, but still.
I turned the corner onto Wakefield at the corner of Eighth. Ahead I could see the roadwork sign advertising the shelter's location. Or at least, at one point it probably had. Now its bulbs were dark, their glass littering the street below. Definitely needed a map, since it was obvious they weren't going to be advertising stuff...
The shelter itself seemed to be in pretty good condition, from the outside at least. A heavy concrete hump sticking out of the ground, the literal tip of the iceberg. Below would be several levels of hermetically sealed, blast-proof, triple-protected rooms. I had experienced first-hand how it stood up to an Endbringer, but it hadn't needed to here.
I joined a line of people outside, keeping my head down. It wasn't like anyone would recognize me, besides the heroes. They shouldn't be out looking for me yet, probably still dealing with the shitshow that everything had become since Shatterbird sang. I stuck out still, not being covered in blood, or even cut at all from the storm of glass. Fortunately, everyone was too distracted by their own wounds to pay me any mind.
A shame I didn't have any more gauze, alcohol, or bandages; even my roll of medical tape was gone. My bag couldn't have held much more though, even if I'd had it to begin with. Whatever, that's what the shelter here was for anyway. Maybe I could snag a couple bottles of water while I was here...
“Hi there,” I said when I finally got inside and approached a harried looking girl with an armband that read 'VOLUNTEER'.
“Hey,” she replied, her voice ragged. Despite that, she straightened up and put a warm smile on her face. “We're at capacity right now, but can I still help?”
“Oh, that's fine,” I replied. “I don't need shelter but a friend of mine got into some...trouble with her family recently.” The girl nodded sympathetically, if only because of the generous terms I'd couched it in. “”I just want to take a look around, see if she's here?”
“Should be okay,” she replied, eyes flicking up and down, making my cheeks burn. Lady you're like twenty. “You armed?” Oh.
“Not really.” I pretended to dig into my pocket, slipping a hand into my belt and taking out my pepper spray. I showed it. “A girl's got to be protected, you know?” I didn't mention my taser, or the knife in its pouch.
“That's alright,” she replied with a nod, letting out a little sigh. “Good luck, hope you find her.”
“Thanks,” I replied, then snapped my fingers. “Oh, do you have like...a map of shelters around here?”
“Oh, sure, one sec.”
A moment later, I had a map folded up in my pocket and was slowly making my way through the shelter. I wanted to rush through, get it over with so I could move on to the next one. There were thirty in all, too many to properly canvas in a single day. An all nighter? Doable, but incredible dangerous between the gangs and worse. Not like I had a choice, Shatterbird's little concert had happened just past midnight.
The song had been mostly left outside, it seemed. One or two lightbulbs out front had popped, but otherwise things were intact. Things, not the people within. Exhausted looking people with red-cross armbands moved rapidly between rows of cots, tending to a litany of cuts, scrapes, gashes, and lacerations. It was noisy, chaotic. I was glad I wasn't living here.
Unfortunately for me, it seemed Amy wasn't either. The upper level had been empty, and frankly that was where she'd be if she actually was here. Mistakes or no, I knew how she felt about helping people. She'd be up here because she didn't have a choice, or because making the choice to not help was worse. In this case, I'd have to disagree; her helping might be far more dangerous.
That wasn't her fault, she was more fucked up than even I was. Well...maybe about as, I wasn't going to assign her my apparent myriad of issues, not when she had plenty. Still, she was at least probably more dangerous to be around than I was. We were both Nine-bait, but her powers could make things just so much worse.
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They wouldn't though. Even with my dogshit memory, I knew only two people got seriously hurt by Amy's powers. Even if she had been here, fixing people up without a word, they'd have been fine...probably. But, I had to finally admit as I scoured the lowest level forty minutes later, she wasn't. Well, it wasn't like I'd expected to be that lucky. I took a moment and tucked myself into an empty corner, pulling out my map and studying it carefully.
Lemay...I found it after a few minutes; that was where I vaguely recalled Amy's house was. I could pat myself on the back for remembering later though. Ugh, the fucking opposite direction to where I'd been going of course. There were a lot of shelters that were relatively nearby, making this that much more of a puzzle. I sighed and began poking holes through the ones that were closest to home. At least I could make some educated guesses.
The way my guts were squirming told me something was up. Something besides the obvious shit on the field, like the Nine or whatever. I sighed as I examined the too-many remaining shelters I'd have to check. Whatever it was, I couldn't bother right now. It was probably just something I was forgetting, like usual.
I folded the map back up and stuffed it in my pocket. I thanked the girl that had helped me again on my way out, then once more was slogging through the dark, wet streets of the bay. I doubled back, then did it again; going back the same way would invite trouble if I was being missed. Instead I took the next left and ran a few blocks down, making a detour when I found the way blocked by a toppled apartment block.
Satisfied, I began moving towards the second shelter on my list. It was a ways away, on the other side of the core. I was going on a more roundabout route too, avoiding any and all cops, soldiers, and PRT officers who were still dealing with Shatterbird's attack. I felt a pang of guilt, but squashed it quickly. I had helped as many people as I could already, going now wouldn't do any more.
It took nearly half an hour, bypassing streets with water still waist-deep. I shivered as I saw the deep shadow of the Crater Lake, looming at the end of one street. An ugly reminder of what awaited when-- if I failed. I licked my lips and forced myself to look away. I hadn't failed yet and couldn't afford to think that way.
Finally, I arrived at the shelter. Like before there was a crowd outside, despite being nestled in an industrial district. Considering the boards over almost every window in every building, pretty safe to assume not too many people actually got hurt around here. The situation must have been just that desperate, and it was going to be like this all across the city. I shook those thoughts from my head and joined them, waiting to get inside.
Like with the last, I bluffed my way in through a kindhearted volunteer. It was good that, even in a city as shit as Brockton Bay, people were still helping people. Despite not being from...around here, I still felt a note of pride, and a sense of solidarity. False as it was, it was kind of nice. A useful alternative to hope that just wasn't there. It at least gave me the motivation to keep going.
Nothing in this one either, just desperate people trying to survive another day. I didn't bother troubling them further than making sure they weren't Amy, a simple enough task. After far too long looking, I left the shelter behind and returned to the surface. I checked my watch and sighed.
I was glad I'd been ordered to rest before the meeting, because at this rate this would take all fucking day...
I trudged through water that was up to my knees, huffing and puffing. My projection didn't cover my outer layers, so they dragged heavily as they soaked it all up. It made going that much more difficult, even if my projection did help move the water around my body. The problem was it was dark out.
Not still dark, no. I'd been dead wrong about it taking all day, because it was currently one in the fucking morning of day two. Fifteen shelters and all I'd done was upgrade Amy's Stranger rating from a 12 to a 13, god fucking dammit. My legs and stomach were sore as hell from the workout of slogging through waterlogged streets, clambering over wreckage, and generally just moving for over twenty-four hours now.
Thank fuck the shelters had some rations to spare, because if I hadn't eaten or drank anything I'd probably have dropped dead by now. Really, the thing that had slowed me down so much in the day had been avoiding the heroes. They weren't exactly out in force, but I had to make detours a dozen times to avoid checkpoints and other shit. Honestly I wasn't sure what they were expecting, PRT troopers weren't going to do anything against the Nine; not yet anyway.
The worst thing was the feeling of anticipation dogging my heels. Every time I went into a shelter, I was afraid I'd be creating a charnel house just being there. It made it hard to concentrate, slowing me down even more when I thought I saw Amy, or a hero, or Ma--
I slapped both my cheeks hard. It hurt, the only thing that did these days. Permeable to air and me, unless I got twitchy. Focus. I took a deep breath and let it out, then repeated that a few times before walking on. I flinched, looking up another road and seeing the Crater Lake once more. Fucking ill omens dogged me more than the dread of what was coming. I forced myself to turn away and walk on.
Not too far though, two blocks later I was standing in front of yet another Endbringer shelter. My eyelids felt heavy and I took a moment to just breath and shut them, rubbing them with the backs of my hands. If...or when I made it through this, I was going to sleep for a couple years. I forced my eyes back open, took a deep breath, and strode inside.
Something about this one felt...gloomier than the rest. Maybe it was because a few more of the lights seemed to be out here, maybe it was the mile-deep lake a block over, but it made my skin crawl. I couldn't let it worry me though and put a timid smile on my face as I approached a slumbering volunteer sitting at a desk.
“Excuse me?” I asked, tapping the desk. He started and gave me an apologetic grin. “Hey, look I know you guys are probably full. I don't need a bed or anything just...” I lowered my voice. “I'm looking for a friend. I'll be in and out, promise.”
“Take your time,” he said gently. “We still have a few cots actually, so don't sweat it. Grab a ration pack from Sandra at the back, she can give you first aid too if you need it.”
“Uh, sure.” I nodded. Wouldn't need it, but it was kind to offer. “Thanks.”
His smile grew and I headed in with a sigh. He wasn't even wrong, I could see that it was less crowded in here than it normally would be. Maybe because this was on the nicer side of town? That was part of why I'd been avoiding it, one of the closest to Lemay that I hadn't fully nixed. If Amy wasn't in this or the next couple...fuck, I guess I'd check those other ones, but time was running out.
The low light didn't help things, forcing me to go slower. More than a few people were sleeping with blankets over their head, though with a bit of manouevering I could always puzzle out their looks. I chewed my already split lower lip, worrying the wound with my tongue. It stung, but kept me focused, kept me from freaking out and--
My breath caught and I froze. There, huddled in the corner of a cot, in the corner of the room, blankets swaddling everything but her face. It helped in a strange way, made her look like Panacea instead of Regular Amy. I tottered over on shaky legs, sandy eyes wide, heart hammering in my chest. She was fast asleep, lips slightly parted, chest slowly rising and falling. It wasn't a pleasant dream, judging by the look on her face. I reached out to wake her, to finally fucking get a chance to put a stop to this before it got any worse.
I stopped, hand shaking. What the fuck was I going to say to her? My outstretched hand balled into a fist, returning to my side. I had no fucking idea, I was tired, cold, and verging on freaking out. My teeth mauled my lip a little further, making me wince. It was okay, I was just tired, that was why I couldn't think straight. And if I woke Amy up, she'd be in the same state. None of that was conducive to problem solving so...
I sat against a support pillar, across the aisle from Amy's cot. I wasn't going to sleep, not after finally catching a Stranger 15. I was just...gonna rest...for a while.
