Reaper's Legacy

dare use your talent on me. You carry secrets as much as anyone, and some you wouldn’t want revealed.” Her voice did not change at all, but the power of her words swung the balance of control. Scryer’s smile remained, but it went from natural to pained. Whatever secrets she harboured, she did not wish them shared.

“Her, then,” Scryer said, nodding at the Chopper, Kerri.

“Yes,” the Irregular woman said. She and Scryer held hands.

“Ask,” Rika said.

“Where is Camp H?” Scryer asked.

The Chopper woman shook her head. She was frowning, struggling against Puppeteer’s unnatural hold, sweat speckling her face even though there was a cooling breeze. “I…I don’t…”

“You know,” Rika growled.

Jack gasped. Her voice had dropped and become much louder, deeper, and beside him he saw Sparky glance at Reaper. But it had not been him. Reaper was smiling with delight, and then Kerri began a long, low whine.

“Don’t hurt her,” Jenna whispered. But Jack knew that this was now in the hands of Rika and Scryer.

“Keep asking,” Rika said, “and I’ll go deep.”

“Where is Camp H?” Scryer asked again, and again. The Chopper woman shook her head. Rika growled. Some of the observers shifted uncomfortably, and when one of the Choppers shouted in protest, Shade knocked him to the floor.

Kerri’s whine did not change, but after a couple of minutes Rika released Scryer’s hand and walked back to Breezer, head bowed, her thin form barely casting a shadow.

Puppeteer let Kerri drop. She hit the road and sprawled, and Jenna went to her, kneeling by her side and checking to see how she was. Jack grinned at his friend and her caring nature, and he was proud that she had shown the others how human she was. The woman might be a Chopper, but she was a person as well.

“Well?” Reaper asked, his voice deep. Shattered glass clinked across the pavement, and along the street the flames from the burning motorbikes wafted in the breeze.

Rika whispered to Breezer, and he nodded grimly.

“Breezer,” Jack said. “We’re all in this together.” Breezer glanced from Jack to Reaper, then up at the drone silently circling high up.

“We know,” Breezer said. “Camp H isn’t really a camp at all. It’s located in the centre of a container park.”

“A what?” Jack asked.

“Transport containers,” Sparky said. “The big metal ones they use to ship stuff overseas. I’ve seen them stacked five high in yards the size of football fields.”

“Bigger,” Breezer said.

“They’re hidden deep,” Rika said. “Confusing even for me to see.”

“And you know where it is?” Reaper asked.

“Yes,” Breezer said.

Reaper tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Everyone in the ruined street—Jack and his friends, Irregulars, Superiors, even those Choppers fearing what the immediate future might bring—watched Breezer expectantly.

This is when all the victims of Doomsday form an alliance or go to war, Jack thought, and the others knew that too.

“It’s in the Docklands,” Breezer said. “A big distribution centre.”

Reaper did not smile, but Jack saw a slight relaxing of his shoulders.

“We have to be quick,” Jack said. “Element of surprise.”

Silence fell over the street. It was a strange silence, one loaded with promise, and Jack felt himself circling the bright points of his talents, both those already known and those he had yet to touch. He felt one step removed from everything.

Reaper gestured across to where Shade was guarding the Choppers. “Get rid of them.”

“No!” Jack shouted. From the corner of his eye he saw Breezer and the other Irregulars tense, but none of them came forward. They had nothing with which to stand up to Reaper. “No!” Jack cried again, louder and more determined.

Reaper turned away, not even looking at him.

Not long, not long, I don’t have long…

Jack closed his eyes, felt through his inner universe, and let a star explode.

In the clothes store where seven Choppers were about to meet their end, a bright light bloomed. It grew and grew, and Shade stood out silhouetted against the light, his arm thrown up and hands pressed against his eyes. The light seemed to bleed through him as if he was not entirely there, and when it began to fade, he slumped to his knees and leaned slowly forward until his forehead touched the ground. Shade had been illuminated.

Reaper turned and started back towards Jack, thunder in his eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Jenna shouted. She stood beside the fallen Chopper and held up her hands, palms out, in pure despair. “Are you all so stupid? This isn’t a ‘who’s got the biggest dick’ contest, is it? Jack said it to Breezer—we’re all in this together. We’ve come together and found out something that no one has been able to find out before. Not even you!” She pointed at Reaper then turned her back on him, dismissive. “And the best way to move on from that is…what? More murder? More killing?”

“Stay out of this,” Puppeteer said, and he raised one hand. Jack tensed, ready to do something, anything, to prevent him from hurting Jenna. But right then he could find nothing. Countless stars were around him, but he floated in the deep spaces in between.

“Oh, grow up,” Jenna said.

“That’s my girl!” Sparky laughed out loud. “That’s my Jenna!”

“Seriously,” Jenna said. She looked down at the woman at her feet, then walked across towards the clothing shop. The Choppers there were gathered against one wall, drawn back from where Shade knelt slumped down on the floor. He had yet to look up, but already he was looking less there to Jack. Fading back to the shadows.

“Can’t we lock them away somewhere?” Jenna asked. “Or, like…freeze them, or something?”

Reaper stood on his own in the middle of the street, expressionless, motionless. Jack knew that he could probably kill every surviving Chopper with one shout. But there was something going on behind his eyes that Jack recognised.

His father was thinking.

“Breezer?” Reaper asked after another few seconds.

Breezer shook his head, shrugged.

“I can do this,” Jack said. “Sparky, Jenna, give me a hand. If everyone else can just make sure they don’t try anything?”

He and Sparky approached Jenna and the shop, and as they drew close Jack grinned at his friend. She raised an eyebrow and propped a hand on one hip.

“So what are you going to do, Superman?” she asked quietly.

“Just watch.”

Ten minutes later they had split into three groups again, after arranging where to meet to execute their assault on Camp H. It had to be quick. It had to be soon. And Jack knew that his mother and sister’s lives depended upon whatever plan they all came up with being a success.

“That was pretty cool,” Sparky said.

“What, locking them in the basement?” Jack and his friends had ushered the Choppers down into the shop’s basement, and Jack had melted the hinges and lock mechanisms of the two sets of doors between them and the staircase. They’d break their way out, given time. But Jack’s final words to them, telling them that if they did break down the door there would be something waiting for them in the darkness, probably doubled the amount of time they’d stay down there.

They might be Choppers, but they were also people. They valued their lives as much as anyone.