Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,108
he said, and she knew he was winking under the goggles.
Jet, fighting with Knife, threw Taser a pained look before she dodged the rabid’s steel-tipped claws.
“Keep your head in the game,” Iridium snapped at Taser, frowning for Jet’s benefit. Why, she had no idea. “This isn’t over until the fat rabid sings.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Taser said, still with that infuriating grin underneath his mask. He turned back to the battle, and Iridium followed him, taking note of the fights around her.
Lester and Steele worked together to bring down the lizard creature that Iridium didn’t recognize.
Nevermore broke Freefall’s arm and his concentration with it, destroying his gravity well.
Lionheart, elephant-sized, took out two more rabids by sitting on them.
Iridium herself strobed the Judge and his partner Gaslight, and when she looked up, it was over.
Lester approached her hesitantly. “You did well, girl.”
Iridium mopped sweat from the back of her neck and managed a small, stiff smile. “You too, Dad.”
“And your new friends aren’t half-bad in a scrap,” Lester said. “Perhaps there’s a future in pooling our resources. Things change, after all.”
“Yeah,” Iridium said, looking to where Protean was helping Jet up from the floor. “They sure do.”
CHAPTER 52
JET
Abducted by Shadow freak. Forced to show her lab rat. End result was both gratifying and disappointing. Serum worked exceedingly well. Hoped rat would be harder to kill. Almost ready to begin Project Sunstroke.
—From the journal of Martin Moore, entry #290
Someone was offering her a hand. Jet, still shaking off Knife’s attack, accepted. She was surprised to see it was Protean, still gallant after taking down the rabid. “Thanks,” she murmured.
“Sure.”
“This is what, an even dozen of rabids?” Iridium let out a laugh. “The press is going to love it.” She held up her hands, as if imagining the headline. “New Squadron Takes Down Dirty Dozen. Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.”
“Deadly,” said the Goth girl—Nevermind, or something like that.
Jet frowned as she looked at the unconscious rabids. Something nagged at her. She counted, blinked, then looked around.
Next to her, Steele said, “What?”
“Nothing. I guess I miscounted. Thought there were thirteen all told, including Hypnotic.” The man of the hour was still out cold, his hands cuffed behind his back. Turning to Arclight, she was suddenly taken aback, seeing him standing there, his skinsuit torn in numerous places, his white cloak covered in dust.
She remembered the night he had saved her life. He’d seemed so big, larger than life, as he’d reached for her, promising her that now it was safe, that everything would be all right.
That had been a lie. But it had been a pretty one. And the five-year-old girl she’d been had needed to hear it.
Her voice firm, she said, “I suppose now we’re even.”
Something passed behind Arclight’s eyes—remembered pain, perhaps, or the ghosts of old friends. “Never even, little girl. We were too late to save your mum.”
Yes. And Light, how that still hurt.
Jet approached Arclight, reached out to take his hand. “He would have killed me too,” she said, her voice breaking. And he would have. Blackout had been insane, lost to the Shadow voices. He’d been coming to kill Jet just as he’d murdered Angelica. Jet remembered trembling alone in the dark, hiding in the closet, the Shadow first whispering to her then, promising to make her one of them.
She still had the nightmares. Sometimes.
“Even so, I wish it could’ve been different.” Arclight paused, a glitter of emotion behind his eyes. “So many things I wish could have been different.”
“As touching as this Hallmark Moment is,” Taser said, “we sort of have a situation outside. Oof.”
“Shut it, Bruce.” That was Iri. “You have the soul of a used-hover salesman.”
“Christo, woman, do you sharpen your elbows? I’ll have a bruise under my ribs now.”
“Quit your crying.”
Jet squeezed Arclight’s hand once more, then let go. “No, he’s right,” she said, turning to the others. “The people outside, the ones Hypnotic entranced. They need to get to a hospital.”
“I can make a sled out of ice,” Frostbite said. “Not the most pleasant thing for them to touch, but they’re all zombied out anyway and won’t feel the cold.”
“Hook it up to me,” said Lionheart, his human voice sounding monstrous coming from his lion’s throat. “I’ll haul them over to Cook County.”
Jet frowned. “The mutants will charge you.”
His fangs flashed as he managed a feline grin. “They can try. At this size, I’ve been clocked at twenty-four kilometers per hour.”
“Good,” Jet said, nodding. She still didn’t trust the former Blackbird inmates, but