Chương 68: String

The days rolled and crawled by. Each day was like the slow stretch of a rubber band, only for nearly a week to pass at its sudden snap to Thursday. More of those trees had sprouted, and apparently each one was making wooden people that Chris and Jairo had to keep disposing of. It seemed easy enough for them. It became easier when May had returned to action with a prosthetic foot. Looked almost like a metal clothespin, though I couldn't even begin to parse the engineering behind it.

That left it as just me out of the action, focusing on what I could with my day to day. Studying, being subjected to testing by the Super Commission to further focus my abilities, and watching from the distance as the others got to be treated like actual superheroes. Took to learning how to use my phone in that time. Even got into social media. I wasn't good at it, but I was able to keep track of things like what the news was saying about me in particular. Lots of debate surrounding me. Mostly critical.

Other superheroes were finally making public comments. On the West Coast, the Jungle Brigade's leader Crimson Coyote mentioned that there was no reason to believe I was dangerous. Up near the Chicago exclusion zone with the Great Lake Guardians, they issued a public statement denouncing me and The New Sentinels for poor performance, dubious training, and the employment of children as superheroes.

It took me about twenty minutes of searching around the internet to discover their leader, Lady Liberty, was my age when she started. My largest supporters were down South. A few different heroes such as Texas Tornado and La Cuerna, from the Forces of Nature, believed anything could change and improve for me. More independent heroes such as Papa Santo, The Saint's old sidekick, wished me well. Most of these were collected and compiled by Adam Witts, that guy from the press conference.

He seemed to really be vouching for me. It softened the wound a little, but I couldn't really see their perspective on it. From what research I could do, hours of scrolling through news articles and stories and witness accounts, none of them had killed. It was never at any point a risk they had to deal with. A dead person, someone who was probably innocent, wasn't hanging over their heads.

Chris at one point tried to convince me that it couldn't have been an innocent, because there were no reported missing persons cases from Charlottesville or any other cities like Richmond. He didn't seem to be aware of the communication issue we had. How the police chief didn't get any notes on the drug ring. Tancred must have not put the memo out, because if that son of a bitch ever was consistent with something it was withholding information.

Part of me wanted to clarify that to Chris, explain that black spot in information meant we had no way of knowing. But then I realized why Tancred wouldn't have told him. The New Sentinels, even without me, are actually doing well. They're succeeding. This information would immediately kneecap that progress. That fucking monster made me complicit with him. Any arguments I could have made against killing felt deflated in the face of him. He'd be completely justified. But that would also kneecap The New Sentinels.

Fuck. All I could do was try to distract myself from that tangle with what I'd been assigned. From my classes, and from Casney. My studies were already floundering just from everything else I had to deal with. A few encounters in Piedmont with Tyson resulted in him offering me a chance to hang out with him for tutoring opportunities. It was worth considering, but I still had other things to go over first. The big one was Casney's assignments.

He wanted me to work on bodily control as a way to see how my powers interact with better coordination. The idea was showing me kickboxing, some weird style he said he "learned from some French sailors during some particularly clandestine days overseas." It was pretty awkward, but one of the things that kind of worked out for me was it had a lot of open hand slaps. I was a lot less likely to kill someone with those. The kicks took getting used to, though. I wasn't flexible enough, it needed a lot of training.

I could occasionally get my right leg high, but I couldn't follow it up. Testing it over and over got me maybe one high stretch of the leg out of every eight or so attempts at a kick. More to do. The other task I was assigned was weightlifting. Now that I could mostly control how much I was naturally exerting my strength, I should be able to perform basic resistance training with weights. This was, technically, true.

The issue was even when I completely held back on it as I could before my mind started to wander, I didn't feel resistance until about two hundred pounds with a pair of specialized dumbbells I was given after everything else felt like driftwood. I was stuck on routines doing numerous sets with them. The idea they had was trying to find a correlation between muscle density and strength. If I had more muscle, would I be stronger? It kind of made sense as a question to me.

Constituting these all into the day to day was driving me insane at this point, however. Knowing there was so much going on that I wanted to do something about while being effectively banned from doing it for the foreseeable future. Too much. Too much information. Had to push myself to do something normal before I started tearing up the glorified cage I was in. Fuck it. I dialed the phone number I was given, and after a few rings, Tyson's voice came up on the other end.

"Hey," was how he greeted.

"Hey. It's uh, it's Leo. You said you were open to doing tutoring for math. Do you think I could stop by?"

"Oh shit, yeah! I actually got the day off work. I'll text you my address." He hung up shortly after, before a notification came on my phone from his number. The address wasn't too far from the park. Easy enough to reach. Grabbing my bag, I rushed out of the base through the tunnel to the park. Before I got started on moving, I checked the time on my phone. Knowing that could help me keep track of any gaps in my memory. From there, travel was pretty straightforward.

My lunges were a lot easier than before, and now crossing buildings was as easy as running. Didn't even damage the ground under me from it. Wasn't going as far when I went so light, for sure, but inversely I was having a much easier time not drawing attention. Each leap and lunge got me clearer and clearer views of the city. Random little trees in places they shouldn't be, gaps in the concrete where some had been excised. More and more of them were growing. Part of me really considered what they were doing.

The obvious idea was to menace people with the idea they could be anywhere, but maybe having us think that wasn't the entire move? By making something so showy to us, we'd be focused on it. Anything else they did could be done under cover. What could be under cover? You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. I stopped my leaping, trying to avoid having too many different directions going on at once in my brain as I leaned against a chimney, trying to consider the options.

Tancred conceded that it might be possible the ADU could be facilitating the drug ring from Richmond if the fentanyl they were selling was laced in heroin. What could be gained out of that? The ADU clearly didn't need money, they weren't that type of group. My gaze passed across the town, settling on a thicker tree sprouting out in the middle of an intersection, turning it into a makeshift roundabout. No missing persons cases in Richmond... Was the drug ring bringing them people? That'd bite into their own supply.

Governor Rupert Bailey's son was involved, though. Political connections could help smother missing person cases. There wasn't any sign of human trafficking when I was hunting them all down. Richmond might not have been the first city this happened in. There were definitely large numbers of these ADU scumbags. That doesn't come out of nowhere. The obscured documents for the Charlottesville PD, henches being hired to bust places up for protection rackets, those are similar to what happened in Richmond.

Was it a process? What would the process even look like with the information I had now? I took a deep breath, looking down at my phone's clock. Only a few minutes had passed. I wasn't dipping out of focus yet. Okay. I could afford to overlook the steps of a potential process these guys had. Hire local henches to damage local businesses. Produce a local crime issue that justifies paying protection to some nebulous group.

Nebulous group uses protection fees to establish themselves with buying property, maybe fake businesses. Now embedded into the area, they begin moving in drugs. Maybe heroin, laced with fentanyl. The drugs are obtained from the ADU. Looking the other way from the intersection-tree, I could see a ladder-truck extending out to start removing branches from another tree. Seems they were allowed to cut that one down.

If the human trafficking part of my theory was correct, this nebulous group were providing people to the ADU in return for the drugs. Where would they get the people? With the local crime crisis, kidnappings could be on the list. Hostages who couldn't pay ransom. Maybe buyers who owed money. General enemies. But there were kids. I could see their faces in the roots in the basement. So they had to be sweeping pretty broad.

They must be using government connections through the governor's kid to shut up any reports of missing persons. That or they have separate connections, or the governor's kid came in after the connection was made. Too many options there. I could see what this drug trafficking group's advantage was. They would be building a criminal empire through under-protected areas. What's the ADU's long-term game with collecting people, though?

They're used in the Wyrdwood somehow, that vision made it seem like it's taking thoughts, but that couldn't be all. There was mentions of a throne, and something about something with an N-name. Couldn't remember it off the top of my head. There was something hooking these all together. I just couldn't force the connection. Would take too much brainpower. And what about Technofiend and Clowncar? Were they related?

Tancred said Clowncar might have been a regular henchman with powers and not someone with his own agenda. That'd mean he probably was part of the HenchNet. Another deep breath. Too much. Had to let go and head to Tyson's. It took maybe five more minutes of building hopping before I finally made it to the address. Brick apartment building. Four floors, stubby despite being one of the taller buildings in the area.

I hopped down into an alley before making my approach to the building proper, comparing the address to the listed apartments. Looked like I had to get to the third floor. Moving up through the stairs, I could immediately see this place was cheaper than dirt. Green carpet that looked like astro-turf, unpainted brick walls interrupted by stretches of white-painted concrete at almost random. The stairs looked like they were either from the 80s or in their 80s.

The third floor had this black and white checkerboard tile pattern in the L-shaped hallway, doors a reasonable span apart. Likely the apartments themselves were decently sized. Moving through, I saw an old man standing outside of his door. As we made eye contact, he started speaking immediately.

"Young man, do you know anything about pest control?"

"No," I answered.

"Nothing, at all? Oh, God," he groaned, rubbing his face.

"I got this alien rat thing in my apartment and no one believes me and they won't help me! The young punks downstairs keep saying they'll get rid of it if I pay them but I can't work, and I can't sleep at night because it makes all these noises, and it eats my food!"

"Alien rat thing? Have you tried maybe telling the police?"

"The police looked and couldn't find it, and they don't believe me either. And the punks, they said it's an alien that they put in my room but it makes these scuttling noises like a rat and-" Klk The next door opened, Tyson coming out of it.

"Thought I heard your voice, Leo. You don't gotta worry about Mr. Bell, he's a little uh..." Tyson spun a finger around his ear. Real polite. I considered leaving the man be, but that kind of desperation wasn't normal. Looking back at Mr. Bell, I spoke.

"... What room are those two punks in?" I inquired. Tyson immediately followed up.

"Oh Leo, no, you don't-""Downstairs! Room right under mine. They like to jab my floor with a broom too, stirs the alien rat up!" I nodded.

"You head back into your room for now, alright? I'll go talk to them."

"Leo, man, it's really not your-""Oh thank you, young man! Tyson over there's callin' you Leo, that's your name?" Another nod from me.

"Yeah. Leo Holt." The old man's arms lashed out to grab my hand, shaking it with both of his.

"I really appreciate it! Let me know how it goes!" Mr. Bell let go of my hands, toddling back into his apartment. Glancing over at Tyson, I could see him give me an exasperated look.

"You don't gotta get involved with any of this. And you don't want anything to do with the guys he's talking about. They're into some shit."

"What, they got superpowers or something?"

"No, just wannabe thugs, but they've got priors from what they claim. More trouble than it's worth, and as broody and dark as you look you're a stringbean under that jacket, man. I've seen your arms!" I shook my head.

"I don't plan on getting physical with them. Just gonna talk. You coming, or no?" He sighed.

"Someone's gonna need to call an ambulance for your crazy ass, so I suppose I am." We trekked downstairs to the second floor, making our way to the door that would be just under Mr. Bell's. I knocked. THUD THUD About ten seconds later, the door opened. Gangly man, long hair. Beanie on.

"What's up?" He asked, completely unphased.

"Heard you put an 'alien rat' in Mr. Bell's room." The man laughed, before calling out into the apartment.

"Hey Joe-Joe! This guy's askin' about the rat!" Another man approached the doorway. Taller, close to my height. Dark complexion.

"What, you want one of your own? We only got the one, boy." Deep voice from him.

"Unless you're lookin' to pay his extermination fee." I shook my head.

"Not looking for you guys to do the extermination. Just need two things from you. First is you promising to stop bashing your ceiling to keep him up, second is you tell me where it's hiding in his apartment." The long-haired one chuckled.

"And why the fuck would we do that?"

"Because you know better than to cause trouble and want to help people out for free." The two of them both laughed. I could see Tyson's concerned gaze out of the corner of my eye.

"Fuck off, loser!" Joe-Joe said as he went to slam the door in my face. I just held a hand up and stopped it in its tracks. Tiny little bit of strength exerted. Still more than enough for this guy. They both immediately looked at me with bulging eyes. Maybe some recognition of error. Plenty to capitalize on. And plenty to finally not regret doing.