She turns, no longer peering out of the board windows of the team transport, to face the pilot of the vehicle, the stern-faced Network. Covering her microphone she tells him, smiling, "They even fixed up the Reflecting Pool, from the last time Typhoon was here."
Network, arms folded in front of his chest, responds by saying, "The mission records indicate that the integrity of the Reflecting Pool structure was not in any way compromised during Agent Typhoon's encounter with Agent Avenger."
"It was kind of a joke," Nexus tells him. "You really need to lighten up, Network."
"Understood."
Although Network sits motionless, the team's transport lifts and roars away from the famous "Mall," the craft's dark shadow flashing across the Washington Monument. With only a thought from the hero, carried to the craft by his wispy data-link cables, the Minute-Men's transport accelerates, seemingly racing the sun to the horizon, giving the hundreds of tourists visiting the Mall a sight they will not soon forget.
"Proceeding to patrol location B, sub-designate Fort McNair."
"And another thing," Nexus shouts, "why can't you learn to fly like a normal person? You know, with your hands? This is really starting to freak me out!"
The Minute-Man hovers over the immaculate structure beneath her, the golden sparks within her green sub-dimensional "sheath" glowing brilliantly in the powerful sunset that signals the end of another day in the nation's capital. With only a gentle strain, she holds the new Minute-Man, Christian Conrad, within a force bubble. Their perspective is a unique one... the Minute-Men are one of the few individuals who have clearance to enter the airspace over the President's home.
"Can you imagine living there?" Meridian asks herself, giving words to her curiosity.
"Well, from what I heard, the tour at G.H.O.S.T. is more popular than the White House tour. The President probably asks the same thing whenever he sees Compound One!" Christian says, flashing a brief, charming smile.
Meridian smiles back at the new Minute-Man, and streaks toward the new patrol point, pulling her new comrade behind her.
"Don't believe everything you hear," Meridian says with a grin, gaining speed.
Behind her, Apex streaks across the wide, pink and orange sky, his own powers allowing him to easily keep pace with the team leader.
"Looks secure," he says, his eyes sweeping across the landscape below him.
"It does," Warbride agrees. Clicking on her communications gear, Warbride reports, "The gardens are all clear. Proceeding to site B."
The two heroes turn in a loose arc that sends them off, racing toward another of their preset watch points over Washington.
"Not exactly how most people spend their first day at work, is it, Apex?" Warbride quips.
"No, ma'am," he answers, a slight smile spreading over his lips. "It certainly isn't."
"I did some checking and I think that he might actually be a man named Jonathan Greer. Why people bother wearing those silly domino masks, I'll never know. The pictures I managed to dig up of Greer look just like him.
"Anyway, it turns out the guy is every bit as crazy as we all thought. Formerly a resident of Hadley Memorial Hospital's mental health department, he also had an extended stay at an asylum in New York.
"He was a promising, up-and-coming director, with enough talent and contacts to become a major figure in Hollywood, until about three year ago.
"On the day of his wedding, his fiancée was killed in a head-on collision, and he snapped. Decided that life... and I'm quoting here... "life would be better as a movie, because in the end, you always get a happy ending."
"Problem is, the guy is as brilliant as he is insane. He knows everything there is to know about movies, from cinematography to special effects to lighting. A lot of the animatronics being used in monster movies these days are based on some of his early designs. If anyone could make real life into a movie, it'd be this guy."
She pauses for a moment, with only the sound of paper being flipped through crackling over the comm-units, then she adds, "Oh... no known paranormal abilities. Aside from being handsome as Hell, that is!"
He turns back to his controls, and suddenly, the windows of the G.H.O.S.T. hovercraft are filled with the warm spray of the Potomac River.
"So, why do you need me?" Triage asks, turning to catch a brief glimpse of Mouse, sitting beside her. "Standard contact mission, really. Not much need for a healer there."
"Look, we're going to be dealing with a newly awakened power. It could be a jock that pushed himself just a bit harder than normal, a geek taking his third pounding this week just because he's smarter than the jocks beating on him, a girl getting hit on by someone, maybe molested, and reacting. Or it could be a teacher that's just exploded. Could even a janitor fed up with everything."
Mouse turns to look out of the window, at the city that roars passed them.
"How long, pilot?" she asks.
"Not long," he answers, not looking back. "Maybe eight minutes."
"Don't stop outside the school. Just keep moving by... I'll get the medic and myself out safely. No matter what you see, keep going, and don't get involved," Mouse orders. "Triage will call you when she's ready to leave. Same with me."
"Understood, ma'am," he answers.
Mouse takes a moment to wonder about what they are in for, then she absently begins to talk to Triage, saying, "We could be meeting a simple problem, someone manifested their power and is curled up in a corner, frightened. Or we could find a Godzilla-like killer. No matter what, I'm betting on casualties, and that's why I need you."
She looks directly into Triage's eyes.
"I kid you a lot. I've made passes and off color comments that I'd never expected you to take seriously. I was just trying to cut the tension and make things easier for everyone. But the fact of the matter is, I envy you. We both have the same power to change organic forms, but you heal. I... I can only kill. I'd give my soul to be able to do what you do, if I hadn't already lost it generations ago."
"Gee, Mouse, way to lighten up the mood."
"You did ask," Mouse laughs, "so I answered."
"But I didn't ask...."
"We're almost there," the hovercraft pilot says. "Hope you get a casper. Good luck."
Reaching out, Mouse grabs Triage's hand.
"Get ready and remember... if push comes to shove... I'm expendable. You're not."
As the hovercraft zooms by the school, Mouse teleports the two of them into a large clump of bushes. Both women tumble, Mouse's teleport not canceling the momentum carried by the hovercraft.
"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," Triage grumbles, as she pulls herself out of a large bush. "Next time, I'll take the bus."
"Nexus here," the young mystic spits, obviously growing weary of the fruitless search the team has been involved in. "Nothing at site E, search pattern alpha complete."
"It is an unnecessary waste of resources to become discouraged," Network suddenly says, after hours of complete silence.
"What?"
"It is highly improbable that Matinee would go to such trouble to announce his so-called Monster Movie Mania, only to disappear. He will be found."
"How do we know that?" Nexus argues. "Robin said he's crazy. Maybe he just gets his kicks making strange public announcements; causing panic and stuff like that. He might not even be in Washington, for all we know."
"Unlikely, given our current information. Insanity does not eradicate drive."
"So, we just keep flying around until he shows up somewhere?"
"It is likely he is anticipating the involvement of the Minute-Men. By making a public announcement stating his intentions, he should expect our arrival," Network coldly reasons. "And, he has probably planned for that contingency."
"I think you're right," Nexus says, slowly, her eyes widening with surprise. "Look!"
She points to the horizon, lightly touching the cyborg's shoulder, to get his attention. For a brief moment, scarcely more than a second, even the machine man experiences a sensation best described as astonishment.
In the distance, a double "m" insignia shines out, cast over the slowly crawling clouds that hang above the city... like a beacon of justice.
"The Minute-Light?" Nexus whispers, barely believing her eyes.
"We see it," Christian answers, confidently.
"It looks like it's coming from Georgetown University," Meridian adds, squinting into the wind that is whipping around her floating body.
Chris, still enclosed within Meridian's force bubble, looks over at the heroine, and says, "Wow. I didn't realize I was going to be this nervous. Don't let me screw things up too bad, okay Else?"
"It seems that someone is trying to get our attention," Apex says, turning to face the armored hero.
Warbride uses her battle computer to get a lock on the origin of the signal. She isn't too pleased with the way events are unfolding -- it feels too much like being led to the slaughter, however, it might be nothing. Over her comm-link, she issues orders, saying, "All right folks, someone is trying to get our attention. Let's oblige them."
She pulls out a small, hand-held device, that looks something like a portable video game machine, and checks the screen centered in the gadget.
"New para-kid, dead ahead," she says, pointing at the entrance to the school.
Mouse shifts in to a light sun-dress, taking a moment to add a little more curve to her small body. She looks a little like a young mother, dropping by school, maybe to register her child for the coming school year. She looks inconspicuous... at least more than the kevlar-wearing Minute-Man who she insisted go with her.
Mouse takes the lead, while Triage becomes momentarily absorbed with using the small scanner, standing motionless on the walkway, leading to the school's front entrance.
Wearing a practiced stride, the shape-shifter enters the school, and is stopped by the sight before her. A young girl, staggering down the hallway, helped by a person who appears to be the school nurse, collapses, clutching her head in agony.
Mouse knows the girl as Margritte's oldest child, Hannah.
"Crumbs," Mouse swears. "Of all the gin joints...."
Mouse hurries to Hannah's side, motioning to Triage to assist her.
"Mouse and Triage," she tells the nurse, as she gently lifts the young woman from the floor, "we work with her mother."
"Ah... umm... you see, only a parent or guardian can legally provide medical treatment," the nurse begins to stammer, shocked by the appearance of the two Minute-Men.
"Where is your office?" Mouse asks, shifting to her more normal form; one that Hannah has seen during her frequent visits to the team's headquarters.
The nurse, silently moving her mouth as if to speak, points to a door, inside the school's main office, where Triage and Mouse quickly take Hannah. The office staff, sitting motionless behind their desks, just watch as the two gently place the young woman on the bed.
"It's your daughter, boss-lady," Mouse transmits. "Triage has the situation under control at the moment... something about her head. I'd bet she's an esper. Situation possibly unstable. I'll tell you more when I know. Mouse out."
"This isn't good," Triage says, leaning over the girl. "She's nearly blind from the pain. I'll do what I can, but until she adjusts to her activation, she's going to be pretty uncomfortable for a while. Can you hear me, Hannah? It's me, Trish. You in there?"
Triage gently strokes the girl's hair, and she nods weakly, acknowledging the healer's words. She doesn't speak.
"Friendly, situation very fluid," she transmits to the hovercraft, and its pilot. "Hello?"
"What's going on?" Trish asks, turning to face her companion.
"I don't know. I think I'm being jammed or something," Mouse answers. "I can't get through."
Suddenly, a rush of air slams into the school, hitting it with the force of a hundred hurricanes, shaking the building on its foundation, cracking walls and shattering windows. Screams join the clamor of the breaking glass, as the office staff fumble to get below their desks.
"Turn over the girl," booms through the thick dust, kicked up by the smashing wind. "I won't ask again!"
The dust slowly settles, revealing a small group of individuals, standing just outside of the school. They are wearing matching uniforms, standing ready, already beginning to activate what could only be paranormal abilities.
The team's transport, carrying Nexus and Network, roars in over the horizon, followed quickly by Warbride and Apex.
The team drops to the ground, around the shining Minute-Light, surveying the empty parking lot where it was positioned. The air is quiet, with only the rustle of a faint wind rattling the leaves, that can be heard.
"Whatever you do, don't say, "Hello? Is anybody out there?" That's a bad move," Nexus whispers, looking around.
Apex, his senses reaching out around the surrounding area, feels a change in air pressure, moving towards the team.
"Over there!" he says, pointing into the darkness.
Suddenly, two college girls step out, under the lone light that bathes the parking lot in a dull, sparse light. They are lightly dressed, carrying gigantic bottles of water, sweat dripping from their brows.
"Hey, are you guys here to fix the air conditioning?" one of them says. "Our dorm rooms are hotter than...."
"Marcey, that's the Minute-Men!" the other one says, excitedly. "Wow! It's actually them!"
"The Minute-Men? No way! I can't believe it, Darcey! I just can't believe it!"
"It is so... so... so... great to meet you!" Darcey shouts, jumping up and down with excitement. Keen deductive reasoning makes it seem likely that Darcey just might be the president of the Gee Club.
"Marcey and Darcey?" Christian asks, whispering to Meridian.
"This is great!" Marcey agrees, nodding excitedly. "Wow! The actual Minute-Men! Hey, do you guys think you could fix our air conditioner? I mean, talk about saving lives...."
Network, watching them with a emotionless expression, says, "An air conditioner is a simple device. It should be a fairly easy task for Warbride's advanced intellect and technological skill."
"Really? Oh, that is so great!" Marcey bubbles. "I really appreciate it, Ms. Warbride!"
"Hey, so where's Typhoon? He was kind of cute...."
"Typhoon? You have got to be kidding me!" the other one challenges.
"You don't like guys with big muscles?" the other one asks, turning to her friend. They quickly become so engrossed in conversation, that they begin to ignore the team. "I'll tell that to all your boyfriend... you know, the entire football team?"
"Now, you know that is such a gigantic lie! I am not like that," she argues. "Besides, even if I was, I would have enough sense to go for a guy who doesn't have gills. I mean, really! He's blue for crying out loud!"
"I think it's kind of sexy."
"Sexy? Blue? Don't tell me you have that whole para-envy thing!"
"Para-Envy? Oh, pardon me, Ms. Freud... I didn't know you were in today!"
"Ladies," Warbride interrupts.
"Geez, Typhoon? Yuck! You know who is really sexy? That Retro-Fire! Now he is fine. Have you seen his butt?"
"Retro-Fire? That guy from Seattle? Gimme a break! Why doesn't he just wear a flannel costume or something!"
"Ladies...."
"Flannel costume? I said Retro-Fire, not Soundgarden...."
"Didn't they break up? That last album really sucked."
"I think they did."
"Ladies...."
"Now, if you ask me, that Kurt Cobain was dreamy!"
"Sure, if you like the addict look!"
"Oh, and like that's so bad, gill-girl?"
"I'm so sure! I'd go scales over addict any day."
"You are such a freak-magnet! I swear!"
"Freak-magnet? You're the one who went out with Barry Valentine! You wanna talk freak, that's your poster child!"
"Barry is a sweet guy!"
"He's still a freak!"
The team has seen things that most people could not even imagine. Their combined experiences make up the stuff of myth, exaggeration, and pure fancy: insane computer programs, extra-dimensional menaces, criminal masterminds with the ability to implant undeniable suggestions, and even more! These two girls, however, may be the strangest, most unbelievable thing they have ever seen, in all their of adventures!
Suddenly, out of the shadows, pour legions of the undead, carrying with them a eerie, greenish fog. They stagger, arms held in front of them, their sunken eyes crazed and unfocused, as they slowly lumber out of the protective veil of darkness.
As they move, spreading out with the inhuman, horrible mist that conceals their true numbers, they can be heard mumbling something, perhaps speaking in the tongue of the dead... the language of evil itself.
"Darcey!" Marcey screams. "Look!"
"Oh my gawd... is that you, Barry?" her companion says, squinting into the darkness.
The air becomes thick with screams, as half-dressed coeds dart out of their dorms, their long, sweating legs glistening in the moonlight. Unbelievably, the scene before the team is every bit as corny and stupid as a B-movie, as half-naked coeds run screaming from the shambling dead, that close around them.
From time to time, the coeds trip and fall, the zombie menaces drawing closer and closer, moaning with hunger... hunger for... brains?
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