Young Sentinels (Wearing the Cape) (Volume 3) (21 page)

Betrayal, carelessness, bad luck, it didn’t matter: it could just be a conspirator acting out of character and tipping someone else to the fact that
something
wasn’t as it seemed. Once someone knew something was up, the conspiracy was half-blown; with a conspiracy of secrecy like ours, if someone else figured out even part of it then the best-case outcome was we’d bring them into the conspiracy. Which meant one
more
member,
more
chances of someone else noticing, etc.

So it stayed a circle of four: Shell, me, Blackstone, and Mystery Member — the one on the government side Blackstone had turned
his
vetted files over to. He wouldn’t tell us who that was (my money was on Veritas) or how he’d done it; it might have been by untraceable drop so Mystery Member didn’t know
him
. Knowing Blackstone, probably.

Which really meant there were two cells of the conspiracy: ours, and whoever the one on the government side shared knowledge of the files with. Yes, Blackstone had
definitely
done an untraceable drop
.
Unless he needed a way for Mystery Member to touch him back...

Trying to think like Blackstone made my head hurt.

Then it became the
last
thing on my mind. “
Hope?
” Shelly whispered in my ear. She hadn’t gotten back from working with Vulcan yet.

“Shell?”

“
Toby is going to be
okay
, but you need to get to Cook County Hospital
.
Right
now.”

The security guy at the door didn’t blink when I landed outside CCH’s emergency rooms — they got superhumans arriving from above all the time even if they usually arrived in costume — and I dashed inside.

“Hope Corrigan,” I blurted to the duty-nurse behind the counter. “My brother is here? Toby Corrigan?”

Shell beat him to it. “
He’s in the ICU, stable condition so stop freaking out!
” I thanked him — he must have thought I was crazy — and forced myself to follow the red line at a responsible walk.
Fast
walk, but one foot on the floor at all times.

“
Hope
,” Blackstone broke in through Dispatch. “
Shelly has filled me in. Seven is on his way, and please try not to be too visible. We are securing the situation
.”

I nodded, choked a laugh. “Understood. Mom and Dad — ”

They were there, on the other side of the glass doors, and I almost broke them going through.

Dad looked up. “Hope?” And I knew Toby was okay. Then I was in his arms and he held on tight and the panic squeezing my heart finally loosened. I could breathe.

He sighed into my hair. “We were waiting to call you.”

“What — What happened?”

Mom’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“The hospital called us half an hour ago, when Toby woke up. He was found last night and admitted. They — Someone attacked and beat him. He was found on the street, unconscious...”

“They couldn’t identify him until he woke up,” Dad finished for her. “Whoever attacked him stole his wallet and phone.”

“How could anyone have gotten to him?”

“He wasn’t wearing his Argus Security watch, didn’t tell them where he was going, so he wasn’t under the Sentinels’ security umbrella.”

“W-why? How — ” I shut up. It was
so
Toby, and I wanted him better so I could give him a kicking.

“
Broken ribs, bruised kidneys, stuff,
” Shelly recited off a list. “B
iggest problem is cranial fracture, cerebral contusion, subdural hematoma
.” Obviously she’d hacked the hospital system and I didn’t care. “
Subdural bleeding stopped; now that he’s awake, the initial prognosis looks real good — CCH is one of the best hospitals for head injuries
.”

Dad hugged me again. “They don’t know what happened yet.”

He meant well, but I’d been to plenty of trauma scenes. “Someone beat him half to death, Dad. Shell just read me the list. It’s my fault.”

“Stop.” Mom wasn’t having it. “This is the city, Hope.” Dad nodded agreement and we just stood there.

We moved to chairs, and after a bit a doctor came out and talked about short-term memory loss — unslurred speech and good visual tracking and reflexes let the doctor hedge on the side of optimism — and then Seven arrived.

I looked up when he slipped in to sit down beside me. He squeezed my hand and flashed a smile warm with sympathy, and I realized I hadn’t thought about The Kiss since returning it to him Friday night. Not even Saturday before my world had blown up again.

My return smile must have been blinding. He blinked, then tossed an easy smile back. I just sighed and rested my head against Dad’s shoulder. I wasn’t crushing on Seven — I’d been obsessing over the possibility of yummy, yummy Seven and wondering if he was crushing on
me
. That he hadn’t chased me down after Friday night answered that. Whatever the kiss on Omega night had been about, it hadn’t been an “I really
like
you kiss.” And that was a
good
thing; life was complicated enough right now.

Beautiful as Seven was, friends was good.

Now
, trying to ignore the sick-inducing hospital smell and sounds my super-duper senses couldn’t block out, I looked at Seven’s pants-covered legs next to my bare ones, thought about the picture I’d presented flying here, and groaned. I was dressed for hanging out in the Dome, in one of my Astra shirts (
good
cotton, $39.99 in the gift shop) and a pleated athletic skirt. I’d never been so glad that my wardrobe choices now included the kind of bottoms cheerleaders had no problem showing to a stadium full of sports fans. Not that I’d thought about the up-skirt view
at all
, flying here.

And gee, Hope, boys and clothes
now
? Can you be more shallow?

Close to another hour passed before they let us in to see Toby, and by then he was out again — the doctor promised it was a natural sleep this time. A neck brace held his head straight, bandages mummified his left hand, and tubes came out of him everywhere. Between the mummy-wrap completely hiding his hair and the swelling, purpling flesh that disfigured his face, I didn’t recognize him at all. Unbelievably, it looked like they hadn’t broken his nose.

Looking at him lying there, my head felt hot and stuffy, chills and fever together, and I fought the gut-sick urge to find someone and make them
pay
. If I could blame someone else, it wouldn’t be my fault.

Mom called Aaron and Josh now that we knew he was going to be okay, and I called the Bees. Major hospitals almost always had at least one newsie hanging around to watch for capes, or someone that tipped them off for a little extra income; they might have missed my entrance, but
Seven
... The fan sites were sure to go crazy the instant word of the attack got out and Annabeth, at least, religiously followed them.

I also called Blackstone to let him know I didn’t plan on being back in the Dome to meet our new teammates; he told me in no uncertain terms that if I showed my face before tomorrow we were going to have
words
. They’d put us in a more private waiting room just off of the ICU, and I split my time between Mom and Dad; they were too old for curling up with stuffed animals, but they could always hold onto me. Our family had seen more than its share of hospital time. There’d been Faith, of course, and then my childhood cancer, but Corrigan boys had broken bones and racked up lots of sports injuries and Stupid Stuff — me too, for that matter — and I
hated
hospitals even if I wasn’t afraid of them anymore.

Father Nolan arrived without ceremony, round face solemn, and quietly led us in praying the Rosary. Dad and Mom took him into Toby’s room so that he could perform a blessing of the sick, but I couldn’t make myself go back in with them.

Instead I stepped out into the hallway, where Seven stood talking to a couple of Bobs.

He gave me a quick look, relaxed. “How’s your family?”

“Stoic. We’re real good at that.”

That brought a thin smile. “I’ve been talking to Shelly. There weren’t any witnesses and the detectives have barely talked to his roommates. Has Toby said anything?”

I shook my head. “The doctors said he doesn’t remember most of yesterday, but short-term memory loss is pretty common with his kind of injury.”

“Well, we’ve got a full security ring now, and...” He stopped, tilting his head and listening to his earbug. “And we’ve got an all-hands mobilization.”

“I didn’t — ” Stupid, I wasn’t in the Dispatch loop now. I tapped my earbug. “Shel — Galatea!”

“
Geez, you’re stood down!
”

“What’s happening?”

“
The Green Man’s hit O’Hare!
” Seven was already
sprinting
away as I stood frozen — Rush would for sure meet him at the doors. This so wasn’t happening...

“I’m not — Tell Blackstone I’m on the board!” I ran.

“In the beginning, Queen Lurline tied the magic of Oz into the fairy blood of the royal family. Although usurpers can take the Emerald Throne, as the Nome King and Mombi have done, should the royal line of Oz be ended then Oz will no longer be a fairy land. I am alive and in exile because I was an only child.”

Ozma
, DSA Interview 54.291

“What’s the point of making the A-list if they don’t treat you like a star?”

Reese had been bitching almost since we went wheels-up. He’d been impressed enough with the corporate jet the Sentinels had sent to deliver us to our new home, even if it was obviously from a rental fleet — no big “S” on the side or anything else. Then he’d tried to charm the flight attendant into opening the in-flight bar. Reese probably didn’t hear
no
very often, but he heard it five times in five minutes.

Then he told her he could get her into the Mile High Club without using a plane.

He probably would have laughed off her “Sit down and shut up,” but at that point Ozma had looked up from her magazine. Reese might be so full of it that if I poked him with a claw he’d explode and cover the cabin in brown, but he didn’t have shit for brains; he sat down and shut up.

For five minutes, but at least he wasn’t hitting on the staff. And at least the leather couches were comfortable; I didn’t fit in the lounge chairs, but the nice attendant had assured me that the furniture would take my weight.

“I mean, where are the
girls
?”

I showed a mouthful of fangs. “I can twist your head off. They’ll really like you then.”

Ozma opened her third magazine. “Boys. I
will
stop this plane.”

Reese slouched, kicking his feet. “You’ll what, blow us to Oz?”

She smiled without looking up again. “In due time.”

“And they should have given us
costumes
.”

I growled. “So we could what? Step out onto a red carpet? We’re not heroes yet.”

“Hey, we — ”

“
We will be descending to make our approach to O’Hare in a few minutes. Please fasten your seat belts and make sure all drinks are in their holders
.”

“What drinks? The stupid stuck-up stewardess wouldn’t
serve
us any — ” The plane heeled hard. There hadn’t been a bump of turbulence until now.

Frowning, Ozma snapped open a compact, studied it. “Hmmm.”

“What?” Reese practically whined. “Like now’s a good time to fix your — ”

“Hat.” She snapped the compact closed. “I didn’t bring a
hat
. Are you done?” She ignored him to turn to the attendant. “Would you please instruct the pilot to take us over the tower? Any altitude is fine.”

The attendant had been listening to her headset. “Miss, we’ve been instructed to turn away from O’Hare. We’ll be getting new instructions in a moment.”

“I’m sure. However, we are needed on the ground now. The Green Man has attacked the airport, and every hand will count.” A snap of her fingers and her scepter-wand appeared out of nowhere. It was like hearing a rifle chamber a round, and the cabin felt a lot smaller.

“Brian? Be ready to open the door and step out. Reese?”

He bounced out of his seat. “Oh
yeah
, now it’s happening. Just watch out!”

“Just — just hold on.” The attendant made pushing motions like she could make us sit back down, and retreated to the cockpit. One hand on the door latch, I looked at Ozma. She gave me a real smile, looked past me as the attendant returned.

“We’re going to directly overfly O’Hare at eight thousand feet. He’ll tell me when.”

Ozma extended the smile to her. “Thank you. You will see that our luggage is delivered?”

A wide-eyed nod. “Good luck.”

Reese groaned. “Enough chit-chat. Let’s move!”

I unbolted the door, holding onto the latch and frame as the cabin lost pressure. Holding onto the cockpit hatch with one hand as the plane banked around, the attendant held up the other while listening to her head set. One minute, two, and she made a fist, mouthing “Go!” over the wind. I threw myself through the door and into the open sky.

What a great way to see Chicago.

Astra

“Out of the way! Coming through! Make a hole!”

I had only gotten a few steps before realizing the blindingly obvious — then I’d turned around and pushed through the door to Toby’s room. Father Nolan had barely finished donning his stole when my announcement that the Green Man was attacking O’Hare stopped the proceedings. Dad and Mom shared one of their telepathic looks, then Dad was at the door and we
both
ran.

If you’re going to run in the hall, a hospital is a good place to do it: they’re used to staff moving at less than sedate speeds at times and they gave us room — a good thing since Dad wasn’t as maneuverable as me and took up a lot more space. Bursting through the lobby doors, I locked forearm-holds with Dad and got into the air. He changed as we lifted above the hospital wing, popping buttons, shredding seams, and gaining a few hundred pounds as he changed to the living metal that was Iron Jack. I adjusted my grip and flew
fast
.

Every flier in the city was in the air, lots of them carrying passengers like me and I spotted Safire carrying Jack Frost, and Blue Fire flew with Wisteria. All of us converging on O’Hare.

“
Lei Zi,
Watchman, Variforce, Riptide, and Megaton are right behind you!
” Shelly reported.

“Megaton?”

“
Mal! I’m stuck at the precinct, but I’ll co-pilot him, no sweat!
” Great — a flying cannon guided by a teen robot who didn’t want to be left out of the action.

“Shell...”

“
Hey, I recorded all his testing sessions — I know what he can do within a millimeter! I won’t let him toast anybody!
”

I shut up and focused on getting us there.

O’Hare is
big.
It’s the fifth-busiest international airport in North America, with tens of thousands of travelers a day, and even with every speedster and flyer on deck there was no possible way to clear everyone out of the way. Like last time, the green wave had started at a water source; this time Lake O’Hare, a concrete-sided lake that was really just a rainwater basin. The green included trees, but mostly looked like some kind of creeping vine, growing and moving nearly as fast as a person could sprint on open runway.

“Drop me!” Dad yelled from where he dangled below me. “Get the planes!”

Right. Below us the spread flowed north, toward the main terminals, and between the green and the buildings a half-dozen airbuses waited along the runway approaches to take off. I looked around. Above us, the closed airspace looked clear except for one big jet that had been making its final approach and was red-lining its turbines and clawing back into the sky. I dropped Dad. In his Iron Jack form, Dad was as tough as an A Class Ajax-type — he bounced and rolled to his feet, headed for the planes. The day of the Event, Atlas had flown up from O’Hare to catch
planes dropping out of the sky, or really to help them to dead-stick landings. I wasn’t
that
strong, but I yelled for Safire.

“
Hey, girl! You want to double up?
”

“Front and back?”

“
Absolutely! Love the casual look!
”

She dropped Jack Frost off and landed in front of me.
And for today’s crisis, Safire will be kinkily fashionable in a pink-and-purple flamed latex catsuit
... We dove under the first plane in line, looking for the hardpoints. She put her shoulders under the forward fuselage, right behind the landing gear, and I did the same between the middle gear. It says a lot about our world that they highlight the flight-assist hardpoints with yellow squares now. She lifted first and I followed, taking most of the weight as we flew the airbus across the field to the west side., A ground security guy there was already opening gates in the perimeter fencing to let passengers debark by emergency ramp and escape onto York Street.

And let emergency vehicles in.

The racing creepers got to the third plane before we did, but Dad ripped ropes of tangling super-kudzu runners away from the landing gear as we lifted. Jack Frost flash-froze wide sweeps of the stuff that tried to get past him while tarmac cracked and heaved around new trees climbing for the sun. Watchman flew the other planes to safety while the others attacked the green flowing towards the terminals. Megaton blew apart new trees and cleared whole strips of green, but this time the tide front stretched around us, throwing new arms of advance between our defenses even as more capes arrived. There was no Dispatch chatter, no strategy as we dug in. I grabbed a service truck and pushed it across the runways at the edge of the green, scrapping new growth away, but it came back faster.

“
Reinforcements!
” Shell sang out. “
Sort of
.”

Grendel

Since I could pretty much fall from orbit and walk out of the crater, I’d drilled in free-falling at Hillwood; now I spun so I could see the jet as Ozma jumped after me. Reese jumped last — actually stepping out to close and latch the door behind him before flying after us.