Book 2: Chapter 64: Whispers in the Night (1/2)

Silence. The sound of a pin dropping could've been heard in the packed parking lot. The assembled officers seemed utterly at a loss for words. Champion faced them, quiet, motionless, and judging. His stare was unblinking and stoic, the face of a disappointed father, illuminated clearly by the headlights of the cruisers. His gaze drifted slowly across the gathering.

Champion stood oddly, to Dan's eye, both himself and his companions not entirely facing the arrayed officers, but rather the freeway behind them. His head finished its swivel, and ended facing straight ahead of himself, slightly to the right of the gathered forces, gazing gently up. His fellows followed his lead, even Cannibal. They arranged themselves in perfect profile, held the motion for all of three heartbeats, then, with a flash of crackling purple light, vanished into the dark.

Dan felt a sickening feeling deep in his gut, as he glanced in the direction that the group had faced. There in the distance, on the freeway overpass, was a large gathering of parked cars. They'd stop to witness the action, Gregoir battling Cannibal, though between the night and the distance they would have seen little with a naked eye, or even a cell phone camera. Acting on gut instinct, Dan brought himself to the shoulder of the overpass. He appeared a stone's throw away from the gathered cars, and was immediately greeted by a wave of noise. He quickly jogged over to the mass of clamoring civilians.

There were a dozen or more people there, watching and arguing. Some had binoculars, several used their cell phones, and one in particular had a shoulder mounted video camera. All were pointed at the motel in the distance. There was a white van parked amidst the cars, the kind news crews and musicians used to transport gear. It wasn't a local station; it wasn't any station at all. They were amateurs, without any kind of label. There was a woman standing beside the concrete barrier that kept cars from tipping off the highway. She held a microphone in one hand, and was being filmed by the man with the shoulder camera. She was clearly saying something, but Dan couldn't hear her over the roar of the crowd.

What he could hear, most clearly, was the word 'Champion' being repeated, over and over.

Dan couldn't help but think at least some of this was planned. There was little chance that the cameras had caught all of the action. The motel parking lot had been poorly lit until the helicopter had arrived, and even that had gone down quickly. Dan's own attempt at killing the terrorist should have been completely masked, given the distance and the darkness, though the aftermath was certainly caught on tape. Gregoir might become an even greater celebrity once the videos found their way to the internet, and Dan had little doubt that they would. The bigger issue was Champion, and the group he'd arrived with.

There was a horrible, triumphant jolt in Dan's stomach as he realized: they have a teleporter. It was confirmed, without a doubt. The enemy, the People, had broadcasted that fact out to the world. There was no doubt in Dan's mind that they'd just put on a show for the crowd, the police and the witnesses here on the overpass. Champion's appearance was already causing a stir, and there was no way for Dan to predict the kind of unrest the resurrection of both Cannibal and Champion would cause for the country.

How in the world were they alive? Anastasia clearly knew something. Dan wasn't so blind as to ignore the sequence of events. The feds had been called in mere hours after Dan had spoken to her, despite days of stonewalling. She knew something, and it was massive, and terrible. This, Dan knew, would be a problem. In the distance, he could see more cops approaching. Dozens of flashing red and blue blurs, closing the distance from every direction. The APD were all hands on deck; too little, too late, and the citizens were witness to their shame.

Briefly, he considered ripping every piece of electronic hardware in the area into t-space. That, though, would cause as many problems as it solved. Conspiracy would be the word, and if a single person had streamed the encounter, that would be proof. More importantly, the distant disasters he was hypothesizing were something for the future. They lingered on the periphery, but could only hold his attention for the briefest of moments. There were bigger issues at hand, ones he actually had a stake in.

Dan dropped into t-space. He needed to focus, think, plan. What were his priorities? What could he do, and what did he need to do?

He dropped back into reality with a firm list of goals. The first, he saw to immediately.

His fist pounded urgently against the wooden door to Margaret Summers' apartment. His other hand dialed Abby's number, while his veil swept the room for occupants. Only one, to his relief, and her clothes and general shape indicated Maggie. The older woman made her way to the door, checked the peephole like an intelligent human, and opened it. Abby picked up at almost the exact same moment.

”I'm with Maggie, now,” Dan said tersely. ”Is that plane ready?”

”Uh— yes?” Abby sounded confused at the abrupt question. ”Yes, I sent you the address. Is everything alright?”

”Plane?” Margaret asked with narrowed eyes. ”What plane?”

”You're leaving town,” Dan informed her bluntly. ”And no, Abs. Things are not alright.”

”I'm what?” Margaret repeated flatly.

”What happened?” Abby asked.

”You'll probably see it on the news any minute now,” Dan replied. He looked at Margaret. ”Pack a bag, you're leaving.”

”I am most certainly not!” Margaret shrieked indignantly. ”Who do you think you—?”

”The news? Oh god, what—?”

”I just got into a fight with Cannibal,” Dan interrupted them both. The completely ludicrous sentence stopped any argument in its tracks.

”You what?” Margaret asked.

”You what!?” Abby shouted.

”Cannibal,” Dan repeated, managing quite admirably to keep the weariness and fear out of his voice. ”You know, the villainous serial killer from half a century ago? He's alive. I ran into him not twenty minutes ago, at this shitty motel by the freeway. The APD showed up, and there was a brawl. I don't know if anyone died; I'm pretty sure Cannibal got at least one person. Gregoir was there, and he held the bastard off. Oh, and Champion showed up.” Dan was rambling now, he knew it, but he couldn't stop. ”The People are back, they have a teleporter, and a lot of dudes that are supposed to be dead. Cannibal is with them now, I guess. I don't know. All of this was caught on film, though, so you can both see for yourself. Also Andros Bartholomew kidnapped the Pearson's night shift manager, and I'm pretty sure he's dead now.”

”Alex is dead?” Margaret asked, horrified. Her hands swept up to cover her mouth. ”How!?”

”Kidnapped,” Dan repeated harshly, ”by a Genius with a grudge. You might be next on the list, so you need to pack. Now.” He didn't mean to sound so frustrated, but it leaked out anyway. The look on his face sent Margaret scurrying off into her apartment to pack. Dan instantly felt like a bastard, but didn't regret it. If it got her moving, it was worth it.

”Danny...” Abby said quietly, at a loss for words.

”I'll get her out safe,” he promised.

”I'm not worried about that right now.”

Dan shook his head like a wet dog. He felt a bone-deep exhaustion settling in, and the cold dread of knowing peace was far away. ”I'm fine.”