Act 3, Chapter 97: Bond, bloody bond

Day in the story: 29th January (Thursday), around 1 p.m.—12 hours into the time trial

Alex Weatherlight

“Mason?” I asked soon after the world settled in his apartment.

There was no immediate response, nor any sign of him being anywhere inside. The place hadn’t changed at all since I had last set foot on its polished floor.

I moved toward the large window overlooking the city’s busy urban sprawl and endless flow of traffic.

“Are you here?!” I shouted, touching the glass. Through the eyes borne by my Shattered sp-eye-der tattoos, I reached into the memories of him hidden within the reflections.

The bedroom door flew open, slamming loudly against the wall.

He came strolling out wearing a golden shirt that screamed Jason, a streetwear hoodie, and skater pants that could not have been any more Malik. His face was a blend of both men as well, and his eyes displayed it most clearly. One was brown and warm, the other vivid green and broken in the same way I had replicated in my designs to steal power from those strange beings that had tried to claim him.

“Alex-a?” he asked when he saw me. “Alex? What should I even call you?”

“I am both, so I don’t mind either way. Listen.” I turned toward him out of courtesy. “I’m glad you’re here—and kind of disappointed too.”

“What? Why?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you weren’t, I’d just tell myself I did everything I could and move on. But since you are—”

“My bro?” He connected the dots. “He peeked out!?”

“I will never stop being amazed by how your cadence changes.” I mused, pushing myself away from the glass and standing opposite him. “He just appeared at one of EoT’s remote facilities and wants to speak with Alicia, Gerard, or whoever is willing to listen. I saw most of the staff retreat the same way they did when I posed as him, so I expect a response to his presence very soon.” I focused briefly on another firetruck racing through the streets below. A large column of smoke rose into the sky not far from here. “And I hope it will be lethal force.”

“Is he responsible for those attacks?” His voice shifted closer to Jason’s mannerisms. “Is he?”

“Probably not. At least not directly.”

“Nah, no way. My bro ain’t evil—he just been guided by the wrong people. Maybe he wants to finally sever ties with them, you know?”

“Amazing,” I replied, once again noticing the change in his voice. “You really are both in there, aren’t you?” I pressed two fingers against his forehead and pushed it back slightly.

“What? That ain’t important, man.”

“True.” I lowered my hand. “I came because I intend to go there and watch whatever fight unfolds, to make sure he gets what he deserves for—” I stopped briefly, looking at the amalgam of two personalities standing before me. “For taking a body away from you, Malik. No, scratch that. For killing you. The fact that you somehow managed to get over it is not important. He murdered you in cold blood, and I will make sure he eats dirt today.”

“Then why bother? Why come here at all?”

“Because I’ve got a strange case of a partially good soul that urges me to give you a chance to speak to him. And an opportunity is the only thing I’m giving you here, Malik.” I pointed a finger at him. “If he decides not to trust you, I can’t really blame him for that, and I won’t talk him into it on your behalf. If he decides to kill you again, that’s on you. If EoT decides to smoke you—which they probably will, because they saw you with me—that’s on you too.” I lowered my hand. “So do whatever you want, but understand this: if he decides to run, I will make sure he can’t. You get that?”

“Shinin’ like gold.”

“Splendid.” I replied, moving closer to him and extending my hand. “Are you ready?”

“Nah. I ain’t never been with all that.” He pushed it aside. “I’ll roll with y’all all the same. Just lemme throw some shoes on, aight?”

“You’d be better off speaking with Nick. In just a few weeks, he’s become more of a brother to you than this DJ-wannabe ever was in years. Your death really hit him,” I mentioned as he moved toward the door to grab a pair of sneakers. “I don’t think he’ll ever get over not being able to protect you.”

He sat down to put them on and looked back at me. The brown eye glistened with a fresh tear. He sniffed hard and focused on his laces.

“I will, soon as I’m done with Robbie.”

“That sounds like a promise from a man who’s about to die and never keep it, you know that, right? And for part of you, that’d be the second time.”

“I ain’t gon’ die. I got you there with me, right?”

“No. You don’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” I stepped closer, opening my leather jacket and taking one of the singing blades from the sheath at my belt. I tossed it into the air and caught it by the tip between my index and middle fingers. “I was afraid you didn’t get it.” I turned the handle toward him and he took the blade, gripping it carefully. “You and I, we’re going there for different reasons this time, Malik. You’re trying to save him. I know he’s past that point. Worse still, you’re dragging Jason into this—a man whom I tried, and mind you succeeded despite all odds, to save. I feel let down by this, but I’m giving you a chance all the same.” I pointed at the blade. “This blade—Reality help me in my stupidity, please, for once—is another one of those chances. The moment I think you’re in danger of not getting out of there alive, I will blink to it and portal you out. Do you hear me?” I pushed him against the wall, both hands on his shoulders. He held the blade in one hand while running the other slowly along its length. “You oppose my Authority for even a second—a tiny bit—and you’re on your own. I’ll feel no obligation whatsoever to save you anymore.”

“But—”

“No buts. That’s exactly the thing. I will not wait for one final speech. One more attempt to get through to your brother. One more echo of love you want to stir inside him. No. If I have to, I’ll fight both you and him.”

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“Why?” He met my gaze with sudden fierceness. Both eyes—the brown one shining with tears, the green one full of contempt—held mine. “Why do you even care? What’s all this for? You don’t gotta do this. It’s between him and me.”

“No, it isn’t. The thing between you and him is your supposed bond of blood. The familiarity of childhood memories. Those ended, Malik. They’re gone. Both, as even the body with the right blood is not here anymore. What I have, however, is a leg rotting somewhere detached from my body. Bruises on my soul that refuse to heal. And a man who threatened me with some of the foulest things imaginable. Given a chance to end him before he becomes an even bigger problem, I’ll take it.”

“So all that talk ’bout you doin’ all that—”

“Malik, I’m not doing this for you.” I cut him off. “At first it was driven by revenge, among other things, but that’s not the reason anymore.” I let go of his shoulders and stepped back. “Whether you are who you think you are—and I’m inclined now to give that the benefit of the doubt—it doesn’t matter. You believe him to be your brother. I don’t. And even if I did, that wouldn’t stop me from getting rid of him.”

“Aight, I get it.” He got to his feet. “Let’s go. I ain’t gon’ be no more ready than I am right now.” He slid the blade through the pocket of his hoodie, cutting a hole in the fabric so the weapon could sit there securely.

**********

Mason was making his way down the fire escape from the rooftop where the world had deposited us.

We were about a hundred feet from the shipyard's backyard and a small office building where Edge of Tomorrow processed goods arriving by sea. One such vessel had been in the middle of unloading its cargo when the Rhythm made his appearance.

Now every worker but one had taken shelter inside the buildings, while Robbie remained near the gate, waiting to meet whoever the Guild decided to send as their representative or as I hoped a clean-up unit. He stood with his back against the wall, accompanied by one of the guards who hadn't been lucky enough to find safer place in time.

I decided to stay behind and watch, as most of the walls around here had more than enough eyes and ears for me. Through them, I could observe, listen, and keep track of everything from a safe distance without putting myself directly in harm's way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The Rhythm asked the guard all of a sudden. He clenched his jaw, brushed off his long purple trench coat, and pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against. “Something funny in my teeth, huh?” He pointed at his mouth, but actually looked quite good and had definitely healed most, if not all, of the damage my explosion of his music might have caused. Unfortunate, but not enough to change the fate I had planned for him.

I looked down at the spellbook I’d used to get us here. It hung loosely from the belt I carried by its chains. My midsection was too wide compared to the girls’, so summoning it directly onto my waist was out of the question. Fortunately, directed by Maya and Anansi, I had all of my new blades painted onto my body as tattoos now, so at least that part no longer required external tools.

The book still had its uses, though. I opened it to the page I actually wanted to use. I didn’t have to—it was simply pleasant to flip through the pages and feel the paper beneath my fingertips. When I found the one depicting the swarm of web-slingers, I placed my palm against it and forced them out of the Domain all around me. They glistened with residual shadowlight like little eight-legged rainbows as they skittered away.

“Go, little ones. Hide down there and be ready when I ask for your help.”

“You’re so cute when you talk to them like that,” Maya whispered. She too took a perch on my shoulder and quietly observed everything, including the march of four dozen spider minions disappearing over the edge of the building into the quiet night. Quiet for now.

“Thanks, Maya. You ready for this?”

“Of course,” she replied.

We both focused on Robbie again. His brief altercation with the guard ended with the latter apologizing and stepping away slightly—just a few paces, enough to feel safer. That sense of security was about to disappear, however, because Mason was already approaching their metaphorical doorstep and was well within earshot.

“Robbie!” he shouted, eliciting a jerk of surprise from the music-bender.

Robbie turned toward him and shadowlight spilled from his body in muted purple, glistening like a dome around him as the music he projected began to play—a rapid rap track of some sort. Not my style. I wasn’t really sure about that one.

“Robbie!” Half-Malik shouted again. “It’s me—your bro!”

“Malik’s dead,” Robbie replied, mirroring my own reservations. “You got two seconds to explain yourself before I knock that lyin’-ass mask clean off.”

“When you took me out with those punches to the head, my soul got loose—or an echo of it, anyway. Then when this dude, Jason, reached my soul core, I hitched a ride into his body. So this—” Mason pointed at his own chest with his thumb as he continued his approach, unbothered by the music. “This is a mix of Malik and Jason. Both of us. We got two sets of memories, but only one soul now.”

“That sounds like bullshit.”

Despite the objection, Robbie eased up a little. His shoulders lowered, and his face leveled with Mason’s instead of looking down on him with his chin raised in contempt. The guard seized the opportunity and slowly, carefully, began sneaking back toward the main building.

“Remember that one time you played this song? You were talkin’ about Marla—that Fawnes girl—and how much you hated her guts ’cause she was an obnoxious-ass bitch. You told me then it ain’t never worth tryin’ too hard for a girl. ‘She acts like a bitch to you,’ you said, ‘be cold right back. She’ll come crawlin’ back when you shine like gold.’”

“Fuck,” Robbie muttered. “I did say somethin’ like that.”

“Aight, first things first—we probably shouldn’t be talkin’ out here. EoT’s comin’, and they ain’t gon’ be happy you showed yourself, bro.”

“I’ll talk to ’em. They want me.”

“Dead, maybe.” Mason kept pushing that angle. I didn’t like it, but I was fairly sure he wouldn’t convince Robbie to leave.

“What you talkin’ ’bout?”

“You got framed. They think you’ve been messin’ with ’em for a minute now—killin’ their people, wreckin’ their stuff. Soon as they get here, they gon’ come at you, bro.”

“Bullshit. Ain’t nobody can fake me and my power.” Robbie pointed a finger at him. “Maybe you can, Malik. Can them stupid echoes of yours copy me!?”

“Maybe. I dunno. But it wasn’t me. Don’t matter who did it. What matters is we get outta here and talk proper.”

“This startin’ to sound like some real fuckery. What is it you actually want?”

“Reconcile. Hear you say you’re sorry for what happened. Be brothers again.” Mason’s voice tightened, and I could feel him getting more desperate by the second. This was slipping away from him.

“Sorry? Yeah, I’m sorry. Ain’t wanna fuckin’ kill you. Just wanted to knock some sense back into your head, so there—you got that. But you gotta be out your damn mind if you think I’m changin’ my ways for what? Sit around listenin’ to music? Go on walks together? Wake the fuck up, man. That ain’t happenin’. The world done changed, and I’m tryna be the one collectin’ the rewards.” Robbie looked back toward the guard, who had almost made it out of there. The very next second, the running man dropped to the ground, smashed by some invisible force of sound.

“Dumbass thought I couldn’t hear him. You believe that shit?”

“You really changed. She was right.”

“Who?” The Rhythm threw both arms to the sides, then clenched his fists and came closer to Mason, who was by now almost face-to-face with him. “That rabbit bitch? She damn near killed me, you know that!?” He moved even closer and grabbed Mason by the hoodie. “You are in cahoots with her!?” He spat in his face, then threw him aside. “Fuck it. You know what? You do kinda look like Malik—that much is true. Got that same damn soft look in your eye. Always believin’ the world some kinda good place. And you just as stupid as he was, too, so I’m givin’ you one chance. Get the fuck outta here. This way outta your league, kid. Don’t come after me. Don’t cross my path. And maybe, when I’m king of this whole motherfuckin’ hill, I’ll come check up on you. You hear me?”

“I hear you. Clear as day,” Mason replied to the sound of incoming vans speeding through the alleys. “Ain’t nobody gonna say I didn’t try.” He wiped his mouth, standing up. The very next second, he right-hooked Robbie, sending blood spraying from his mouth onto the pavement. A golden-and-blue echo of the strike followed a heartbeat later, slamming into the other man and driving him into the ground with enough force to crack concrete and send him rolling. “Y’all my penance. You became a villain—now I’m gon’ be the one that puts you down, bro.”