With the rest of the Thomaston group, we made a stiff dozen ready to do battle with a guy that could write us out of existence if he so desired. Isabella's madness had been rough. The Dream had been unbearable. I couldn't begin to guess how we were going to fight a man who could erase us all in the blink of an eye.
But we weren't quitters. He'd beaten that into us, perhaps not literally, but certainly throughout our training. Giving up had never been an option when you were trying to save your friends or the civilians entrusted to you. And we just didn't do that. Superheroes weren't allowed to throw in the towel when something was hard.
Too many people depended on us.
I let the others drive, settling myself in the stolen vehicle because it only felt right to go home with Cassie. Adam settled himself behind the wheel and I realized, that it was just us. Me, Edwin, Cassie, Adam, and Nate had somehow gotten the car to ourselves and I'd managed to get one of the two seats to nestle up against my girlfriend. Edwin had the other. Nate rode shotgun with Adam, which seemed appropriate: if we were attacked, Nate would be one of the fastest melee sorts to respond. It'd take Cassie a while to wedge herself out from between Edwin and me.
Even so, our trip remained more or less silent. I held hands with Cassie and hoped for the best, the night black as pitch around us, the moon high above and following our every move.
We ran into the first bit of trouble ten miles outside of the city. The shacks that had stood there for years were nothing but mounds of ash and mostly burnt timbers, the paint roasted from them. Though the fires had obviously gone out some time ago, it felt as though we'd come upon them in flames.
Because most of the rest of the city was, in one way or another.
It seems silly, perhaps, for a Pyro like me to dislike the visible appearance of fire. When I'm in control of it, it's wonderful. I can blast, fry, and roast everything I come in contact with; for the greater good, of course.
But when I come across a fire that's completely out of control, even one that's in a trash can, I feel a little sense of unease. It's something that I can't quite shake off no matter what I do. It's some combination of an itch to take control of it and let it feed, let it grow into something worthwhile, and the need to protect those around it.
Fire burns. Its sole purpose is to destroy. When humanity harnessed fire, we became the most powerful animals on the planet. It's no surprise that other beasts fear us; we hold the ultimate destruction in the palm of our hands and don't even flinch.
There is no terrestrial animal that hangs around when a fire rages out of control. Even sea life know better than to try to deal with flames above the surface or those that manage to burn beneath the waves.
No Pyro on this planet is a good person all the way through. We can't be if we're going to connect with the fires that love us so much. But I tried to be better than most.
And I'd still scorched some poor kid when the Dream had hold of me.
I closed my hand as we encountered fire after fire, killing them one by one. Yet, it felt as though I couldn't do enough. When I accessed one, another thirty screamed for my attention. They begged for me to help them find fuel, food, more things to consume and fricassee. I fought back against it and kept my mouth shut about it.
A jet of pale blue magic shot from one of the cars in front of us, drenching a particularly gnarly dumpster fire with a raincloud's worth of water. The Presto was joining in, then, conjuring to try to stop my fires from launching an attack. Did she think I was going to hurt someone now that we were heading back into Scribe and Allison's territory?
Because I thought I might.
I let her deal with the rest of them and took Cassie by the wrist, instead, holding her close but not trying to overpower her. My mind ticked away as we drove through wreckage that was blissfully clear of Kipas.
Maybe there was some way to protect her. We could keep her in reserve until the very end if we needed to. I thought she might actually listen to that because it was the smartest thing to do. We couldn't go in guns blazing; Scribe would just write us all away. But if some of us went in to distract him while others worked toward a different goal, say one that involved getting rid of Allison's Dream, it was possible that a double-pronged attack would be enough.
We had to go around the back streets to avoid the Yarborough Alliance building, but it was worth it. Little had I known that the Thomaston Alliance had a small set of apartments about three miles from our place, but Starseer had been kind enough to let us known about them.
Ditching the cars about half a block before we got there, the walk through the deserted streets felt like some sort of terrible dystopian movie. I hung back from the rest of the group, slowing down enough to walk with Nate. He frowned down at me and jerked his head at a nearby alleyway. I
