Location: Washington Avenue, Dakota City
Time: 8.00 PM
The blade cut through Mari's jacket like a hot knife cutting through a jacket that was made out of butter rather than leather. It was a tragic sign of how far the once proud garment industry had fallen. Thrift store leather just wasn't the same, it wasn't the armor Mari needed, not anymore. Worse still, the steel that cut against her shoulder told her that she'd been too slow. Searing pain faded to familiar numbness as Mari darted back out of range of the machete. She'd messed up. She'd fucked up. She'd been cut, but the wound to her ego was far deeper. Some random mook wasn't supposed to get the better of her. They weren't supposed to make her bleed. She had standards to live up to. She had irritating spiders of a questionable divinity to keep quiet.
"You're bleeding," Nancy lazily drawled from somewhere in the darkness. He'd scampered away as soon as the fighting started. He wasn't much of a fighter. Unless the battle involved capturing and eating a disgusting amount of flies in one sitting.
"I know."
"That was sloppy," the spider added in a sing song voice, lowering himself down from a nearby street light by a thin thread of silk. His eyes shone with unrestrained mirth as he watched the two combatants, "You won't last long if you keep this up."
"I
fucking know," Mari hissed between gritted teeth as she tossed her jacket aside. She needed to be able to move, she needed to be faster. She was done playing. She was done being nice.
"If you're done talking to yourself, then let's finish this," the woman taunted twirling the bloodied machete in a figure eight in front of her. "I've got better things to do with my time than to fight some masked lunatic."
"Fine by me," Mari agreed, circling closer. The thug could fight, Mari would give her that. She obviously knew how to slice and dice her opponents with her blade. She might even be a metahuman. She was fast. She was too fast for a normal human.
Launching herself forward, Mari swung wide with the claws of her right hand. She caught fabric and threw herself aside to avoid the blade that whistled past her in reply. The snarky comment that Mari had lined up was replaced with a sharp grunt as she threw herself aside from another cut that would have gutted her. Mari growled with frustration as she was forced on the defensive. Dodging each blow at the last minute she danced beneath and beside the deadly arcs the steel drew in the air. The young vigilante could see a smile, a great, mocking smile plastered on her opponents face. It made her mad, so mad. She was the huntress, she was the predator. She was
not the prey. She would never be the prey. She would not be toyed with.
"Do something tricky," Nancy finally shouted. "Stop trying to win a knife fight."
Mari stumbled and cursed out loud. Another cut appearing across her unprotected arm in a flash of blood.
Tricky?
What sort of trick was the spider expecting?
What could she manage to do with a knife wielding psycho breathing down her neck?
Armored plates a voice whispered.
Bone, it clarified with a laugh.
Bone plates.Visions of a dinosaur flashed across her mind. Razor sharp teeth the size of her head. Claws that could cut her into ribbons. And plates of fused bone. Armor thick enough to stop steel. Mari laughed. She was going to die. But she was going to die with style.
Bone, Mari thought as she bounded forward.
Bone, lots of bone. She saw the wicked edge of the machete racing towards her face and raised an arm desperately above her. Her eyes closed protectively and she heard a loud thunk. The sound of steel hitting something heavy, something solid, and something that made the finest in Swiss steel wail in protest.
Opening her eyes, Mari stared at the blade caught in her hands with surprise. Her skin was covered in thick plates of bone, from her fingertips to her neck. The other woman was struggling, trying desperately to pull the blade free. It wouldn't budge. Mari grinned. She winked before she smashed the closed fist of her free repeatedly into her opponent's face. The sickening crunch and blood that followed made it clear that she'd hit her mark. A broken nose made fighting hard and made it far easier for her to subdue an enterprising criminal hellbent on fighting to the death. Mari wasn't much for killing. A sound beating was usually enough to get the message across. For now, she needed answers, which meant at least one of the scumbags had be conscious and able to talk.
"Bet you didn't see that coming, did ya, Miss Big Knife," Mari huffed, tossing the machete into a pile of garbage.
---
"Concrete face, where is he?" Mari asked, slamming the woman face first against the nearest wall. A wet smack followed, the sound of flesh meeting unmoving brick, and blood splattering onto concrete. Mari hesitated. Interrogations had never been her strong suit. She took no pleasure in the suffering of her prey. It was the thrill of the hunt that drove her. A growing need matched only by her desire to clean up the streets, to act when and where others would not. In the forgotten neighborhoods where the cops and capes would never venture the hunter stood alone. No one else would act. No one would keep the rabid wolves at bay. Not before it was too late, not before they'd slaughtered the entire flock of sheep.
"Don't worry about it-"
"What's that? Speak up."
"The name's
Tarmack not Concrete Face," a deep voice full of gravel and rocks boomed, accompanied by the rasping laughter of the unnamed woman.
"
Fuck," Mari managed, unceremoniously dropping her latest victim to the ground.
"We didn't think you'd be dumb enough to try this again."
"Well, you clearly don't know me very well," Mari said squaring off against the monstrous man of asphalt and tar. "You know, for a man I just set on fire you don't look that much uglier."
"Ebon told me to make you an offer. He said you deserved a chance. He was hoping you'd be reasonable about this," Tarmack began with a shrug of his massive shoulders. "But, fuck it. I'm just going to chalk up this failed recruitment drive as another unfortunate case of irreconcilable differences of personal opinion."
Ebon. The name didn't ring any bells. Not that Mari knew much about the gangs that operated in Dakota City. No one did, not anymore. The Big Bang had changed everything. Hopped up thugs with superpowers had smashed the rules and redrawn the maps. But a name was a start. It gave her something to work with. Nancy would know. He had to.
"I don't work with losers," Mari replied. "How about I just beat you until you tell me who Ebon is and where I can find them?"
"Nice armor, where'd you get it?" Concrete Face offered with a nod in her direction.
"Pretty slick, huh? It's a new trick I picked up. I'm basically bullet proof now," Mari bragged, shrugging her shoulders. The slag of molten asphalt and smoldering tar that came hurling towards her in a ball of grime seemed a rude reply. Concrete Face wasn't as dumb as she had figured. He could even work with a plan. He was big, he was strong, but he was also slow. Mari sidestepped the flaming projectiles he tossed at her with little effort. Working her way closer with each weave. She was done playing. She wasn't sure if she could kill him, but she knew she could hurt him. She'd slice him into pieces. Then she'd stomp him into the ground. She was going to send a message to all the drug dealers in Dakota City. She was going to make them pay. Most of all she was going to make them afraid, she was going to remind them what it felt like to be hunted.
Mari was prepared for the improvised projectiles hurtling right at her, but she wasn't ready for a gunfight. It was her armored skin that saved her. She heard the gunshot too late. The bullet hit her arm with the force of a truck, sending her reeling. The rounds of 9 millimeter parabellum that followed sent her diving behind a wooden barrier for cover. The 124 grain hollow points propelled at more than 1200 feet per second easily punched through the thin wood, smashing into the wall behind her. Cordite powered thunder and the rattle of bullets smashing against the ground near her had her scrambling towards the concrete base of a street light for solid cover. Covering her head with her armored arms, Mari pushed herself closer to the ground. Eating bullets was not part of her plan. She could feel the bruise growing across her arm. She couldn't take another shot like that. Not if she wanted to keep fighting. Not if she wanted to capture Concrete Face. He was a heavy hitter and far too big prey to stop wounded, at least by herself. She needed backup, she needed a plan.
"God dammit, Tiny, no guns, I said no guns," Tarmack roared over the shooting, slamming a great fist down on an innocent dumpster that exploded in a cloud of recently recycled plastic. Mari heard a loud thud, a lower scream, and peaked her head over the wooden barrier to see the wounded gunman collapsed on the sidewalk. The giant hands of the concrete monster loomed above his prone form and Mari could hear the big man hurling insults at the his unconscious colleague.
"How about you surrender now, Concrete Face, before I really have to hurt you," Mari quipped. She could hear the sirens getting closer. Burning buildings and gunshots tended to cause a scene. Pyrotechnics attracted the sort of crowd she preferred to avoid. Firefighters, EMTs, and cops, lots of cops, lots of cops with guns. Cops who wouldn't see any difference between her and the monster she was fighting. She was running out of time.
"Fuck you," the monster of asphalt replied as he threw another ball of tar and asphalt at her.
"Nancy," Mari commanded from behind cover. "You got any bright ideas, seeing as burning clearly only manages to piss this guy off? What's the plan?"
"И Все идет по плану. Все идет по плану," Nancy sang in reply as Mari dodged a burning car that crashed into the light pole she was hiding behind before somersaulting through a glass bus stop that shattered into a mixture of glass, demolished car parts, and burning petrochemicals. Mari didn't have a chance to move before yet another burning car came hurtling past her, crashing into a ruined building behind. She turned to hear a loud boom and flames leaping upwards through the windows of the collapsing building.
Pushing herself to her feet, Mari tried to close the gap between her and Tarmac. She managed several yards before the next car came sailing at her. Throwing herself to the pavement, she watched as it spiraled off the pavement into another building. Concrete face was going to level the block if she didn't stop him. There were plenty of cars lining the street. He had more than enough ammunition. A part of Mari was impressed. Concrete Face really knew how to party. He was a one man riot.
A particularly large pickup truck bounced off the pavement and clipped the vigilante. Spilling onto the ground in a heap, she sputtered as heat and flames enveloped her. Mari rolled to the side. It was all she could manage to do. When the cloud of dust and grime faded, Mari could see that Concrete Face was gone. The monster of asphalt and tar had somehow, impossibly, managed to make his escape.
"What the
fuck? What the fuck did you say?" Mari spat, coughing, and feeling a wave of rising anger tugging at her throat.
"And everything is going according to plan. Everything is going according to plan," Nancy repeated in the same unfamiliar language. But this time the words made sense. Mari could understand him.
"Great plan, really great plan, Nancy," Mari growled back, stumbling forward, desperately trying to keep her feet moving. "I love the part where it ends with Concrete Face getting away and me getting shot by some trigger happy cop that thinks I'm gonna disintegrate him with my laser eyes."
"No, no, you don't understand. I needed you to make some noise. We had to get the attention of the right people. And we did that. You're a blip on the radar now of the peeps that matter, girl. Mission accomplished."
"Fantastic, now about those trigger happy boys in Blue that are about to roll up on us..."
"Just trust me."
"Trust you?"
"Trust me."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because tonight, my dear girl, I'm going to teach you how to fly," Nancy concluded, bursting into a maniacal fit of laughter that sent a shiver down Mari's spine.
---
Weaving through traffic, Officer Mikhailov, respected ten year veteran of the Dakota PD raced towards the scene of the latest crime. He had no real bead on the situation. All he'd gotten from dispatch was chaos. Multiple fires. Multiple casualties. Gunshots reported.
Metahumans. Mikhailov could feel the sweat running down his brow. Protect and serve, sure. He knew the drill. His father had been a cop, his father had been a cop, countless generations of Mikhailov's had worn the Blue since the family had come to the country. Mikhailov knew his duty. He could feel it in the marrow of his bones. But, he hadn't signed up to fight monsters. What good was a gun against a metahuman?
Mikahilov did not see the large crow that came flying out of an adjacent alley until it was almost too late. He slammed his brakes and let out a string of curses as he fought against the wheel. He juked his patrol car to the right, preying that there were no pedestrians on the sidewalk. The row of trash cans that he barreled into sent week old garbage flying across his windshield and his car careening into the wall of the nearest building.
Drawing his firearm and stepping out of his car in a swift, well-practiced motion, Mikahilov found himself standing in the aftermath of a battle. An entire block's worth of cars lay scattered across the streets and sidewalks around him. Two crumbling buildings roared with flames and a third threatened to follow. Tied to a mailbox he found two people. A young man with a deep cut on his arm and a woman who looked liked she taken quite the beating. Her nose was certainly broken and he didn't doubt that she was missing some teeth.
Sighing loudly, Mikahilov gazed at the growing inferno. He hoped the fire department were putting the pedal to the metal, they wouldn't have much time. Removing his cap, Mikahilov brought his radio to the his mouth,"Dispatch, this is Officer Mikahilov, how about next time you send me into a war zone, you give me a bigger gun."
