Chương 24: Bk 1 Ch 22: Deluge

This time, we don't have to wait long at all for Surf 'n Turf's response. Saturday night, the homes of three Sun Eaters are subjected to drive-by shootings or invasions. All three of them are empty, thankfully. I'm pretty sure at least a few of our members are starting to have regrets about joining, but the failed attacks do help restore some confidence; staying in is still more appealing than trying to run, at least for now. As Mr.

Sterling predicted, Officer Maloney also contacts me to warn me that arrest warrants have been issued for a few of our members, along with a few more unlucky people who aren't actually members. He makes zero effort to hide how pissed he is at being made an accessory to murder, but he also knows he's in too deep to back out now. I reluctantly hand over another couple grand to smooth things over anyway.

The good news is that the cops have ID'd a lot more of Surf 'n Turf than they have of us, and manage to nab a solid handful of suspected members right off the bat. The bad news is that money is becoming a serious issue. Currently, almost a dozen of our members are in hiding, unable to work their day jobs. Simultaneously, our income took a noticeable drop compared to previous weekends. Between paying our enforcers, paying Mr.

Sterling, bribing Officer Maloney, and supporting the members in hiding, our expenses are exceeding our income by a significant margin. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to cover everything for the next month as long as things don't get worse, but the month after that is looking a lot sketchier. Surf 'n Turf should be getting pressured in exactly the same way, of course, but they've also had a lot longer to establish themselves and accumulate funds. If it comes to a battle of attrition, we won't win.

Things do settle down after that initial flare of violence, at least for now. All the easy targets have already been hit, and both sides are keeping their heads down as much as possible. My people keep looking for leads, but it's much slower going. We've still got a handful of people we're fairly sure are members who haven't fully gone into hiding, but they're all just low-level dealers at best. Losing them would increase the pressure on Surf 'n Turf, but it won't be close to the knockout punch we need.

Better to try and follow them back to someone more important than take them out now. Besides, I'd very much rather avoid murdering people on the basis of "fairly sure." I'll still be living here after the gang war is over, after all. School is a constant buzz of nervous rumors.

The war between Surf 'n Turf and the Syndicate never rose beyond a low simmer; Franklin is still too low of a priority for the Syndicate to commit to a serious offensive, and Surf 'n Turf was reluctant to push too hard for fear of changing that. Our conflict has already erupted way beyond that, with seven deaths in less than a week. No one's quite sure what'll come next, if there might be magicals fighting in the middle of downtown tomorrow. Honestly, I can't say for absolute certain that there won't be.

On Tuesday, I notice that Anja isn't sitting with Lisa at lunch, a rare occurrence for the past few weeks. I'm pretty sure Anja isn't going to relapse and start hurting herself again, but it still strikes me as a little out of character. When I briefly ask Lisa about it, she tells me that the two of them had an argument, but it wasn't a real big deal.

I have a pretty good guess what it might've been about; Anja probably feels like she's got a responsibility to try and do something about the war, and Lisa doesn't want her getting involved. They're back to sitting together a couple of days later, and Lisa doesn't look particularly upset about anything, so I assume Anja gave in. But then, she approaches after school on Thursday as I'm getting ready to head to the weight room with Alex.

"Hey, uh, Gabby? Can I… talk to you about something for a minute?" I raise an eyebrow, hearing the in private even though she didn't say it. She seems a little nervous, but I'm almost certain she's not hostile, so she probably didn't figure out the biggest secret. That still leaves a very wide range of things she might want to ask about, though, some of which could be trouble. But avoiding it won't help, so I glance quickly at Alex, who smiles slightly and shrugs.

"Sure. I'll catch up with you in a little bit, alright, babe?" I let Anja lead me down the hall a little ways, ducking into an empty classroom and closing the door.

"So, what's up?" I ask. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out.

"Well… It's actually about Cassie. I'm… kinda worried about her." Ah. Not what I was expecting, but manageable. I have a seat on a desk to give myself a moment to think. Should I play dumb? No, Cassie being in the Sun Eaters is basically an open secret in our friend group at this point, although thankfully not one that's getting spread around as far as I can tell.

"Because of the gang war?" I ask eventually.

"... Yeah," says Anja, crossing her arms and looking away slightly.

"Is she really, like, you know… involved?"

"Well, she doesn't tell me everything," I reply.

"And there's also stuff it's not really my place to talk about. But she says things are fine, and she's not scared."

"So… Are you not worried about her, then?" I let myself sigh slightly.

"No, I do worry about her. But I also trust her to look after herself. And it seems like her… friends are all pretty serious about looking out for each other, too."

"I just…" She trails off for a minute.

"Look, do you remember the night we met, at that party last summer? When I told you about my brother, who joined the Wildfire Boys?" I kinda want to smack myself in the forehead, for not realizing immediately where she's coming from. My main concern had been that she'd try and use Cassie to get to me like she did with Ryan, and I'd been watching carefully to make sure she showed no sign of resuming her crusade. It hadn't occurred to me that she'd want to protect Cassie from me.

"I remember, yeah," I say.

"I didn't wanna say anything back at the start of the year, but… I guess he didn't make it?" She shakes her head.

"No, he… he didn't. I know Cassie's your best friend, and you wanna trust her, but I've seen how this kind of thing ends. I dunno if there's anything I could've done differently to get Eric out, but I wish every day that I'd found one. I… wanna try and do better, this time. Actually help someone for once, before it's too late." Crap. This is a way thornier problem than I realized. I take a few seconds to respond, considering the best approach.

"You know, I actually met Firestorm once, sort of."

"Wait, seriously?" she asks.

"Yeah. I was at that rave he crashed, the night he got killed. Cassie was there too, actually."

"Holy shit. That must've been terrifying."

"I was pretty scared, yeah." Not for myself, of course, but for the others.

"But even right then, in the middle of things, I remember being kind of amazed by what a fucking idiot he really was. Like, how exactly did he expect that to end?" Anja snorts.

"Yeah. Well, I guess it's not like you stop being a dumbass just cause you get magic powers." I'm pretty sure there's a note of self-recrimination in there, but I let it pass without comment.

"Honestly, I'm glad that fucker's dead. I just wish he hadn't dragged Eric down with him."

"Well, that's kinda my point," I say.

"If Firestorm was that much of a dumbass, I don't think there was much chance of him ever ending up any other way. But that doesn't mean that's how it'll always end. Like, I saw Huntsman too, and he just… handled shit. Even apologized to everyone for the trouble afterwards, all professional. I'd like to think that Cassie's friends are less like the Wildfire Boys, and more like that." She chews on that for a few seconds before answering.

"... Yeah, maybe. But are you really okay with risking Cassie's life on that? And… It's not just about the risk. Eric… Even before he died, it wasn't really him anymore. I want to believe he was just in it for the money, that he didn't actually hurt anyone, but… He changed so much in those last few months, and it wasn't just the drugs. I don't wanna see Cassie change like that. What if… What if they make her kill someone?"

"Then I'll assume they had it coming," I say, shrugging.

"I'm being serious!" snaps Anja, glaring at me.

"So am I. I told you before, you're too hung up on the whole 'good' and 'bad' thing. Cassie's my best friend, and that means I'm on her side, no matter what. I don't care if she's a good or a bad person according to whoever, I only care if she's happy or not. And right now, she is. Even if I could convince her to leave, I wouldn't, because she's where she wants to be and doing what she wants to do."

"You think people never want things that are bad for them?" she demands.

"I remember when Eric was actually happy, when we were kids. I don't think he was happy in the Wildfire Boys, no matter what he said. He was just… angry. And they gave him an outlet for it. Whatever Cassie wants, there has to be a better way of getting it." I consider her for a couple of seconds. Then I say, "Are you sure about that? Are you sure it's not just that you want someone you can save?" She recoils, and for a moment I think I pushed too hard and she's gonna run out of the classroom.

Instead, she kind of slumps over.

"... No. I… This all seems wrong to me, but I guess I don't really have a great track record when it comes to saving people. I'd probably just end up making everything worse again. Sorry for bothering you." She turns to leave.

"Hey, wait a minute." She stops, but doesn't turn back.

"You don't have to apologize for caring. I wasn't just being rhetorical. It's a tough question. People do stupid things that hurt themselves all the time, for all kinds of reasons. I don't think that's what Cassie's doing, but maybe I'm wrong. Why do you think Cassie needs to be saved?" She's still for a moment, then huffs an irritated sigh and turns back to face me.

"I mean, I'd say that joining a gang is just obviously bad, but you'd probably just ask me 'Bad according to who?' or something, right?"

"See? You're catching on," I say, grinning.

"It's not really a fair question, cause I know Cassie a lot better than you do. So let me ask you this, instead. Why do you think your brother wasn't really happy in the Wildfire Boys? Why do you think he joined, what do you think he really wanted?" Slowly, she walks over and sits down on a desk next to me, leaning back and closing her eyes for a couple of seconds before she answers.

"I think he just wanted to feel like he had a future. He was scared he'd end up like Mom, slaving away at minimum wage jobs forever without ever getting anywhere. But instead of trying to study hard and maybe go to college, he just kind of… gave up. Started skipping school, smoking lots of weed, and then eventually harder stuff. Convinced himself it wasn't even worth trying, cause it was all rigged against him from the start. When Firestorm showed up, I think he saw it as his last chance. I…

I'm not sure if he really believed Firestorm's bullshit about beating the Syndicate, or if he just didn't care at that point, cause he figured his life was over anyway if it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry," I say quietly after a few seconds.

"But I think you see what the real problem was now, right?" She shrugs.

"Yeah, maybe. But he was wrong, he still could've turned his life around if he hadn't joined the Wildfire Boys, I know he could've. There were a couple of months where it felt like I was really starting to get through to him, he was using less, trying to figure out how he could make up his missing credits and get his diploma. And… I just want to make sure Cassie knows she's got other options too, joining a gang isn't her last chance.

Like, I know you do a lot of drugs, Gabby, but you're also super smart, and you work your ass off. You've obviously got plans for the future. Don't you want the same thing for her?" I can't help but chuckle a little.

"You're gonna have to trust me on this, but I promise Cassie didn't join the Sun Eaters cause she thought it was her last chance. It's more like… Imagine someone came up to you tomorrow and offered you a spot in a play on Broadway. That's pretty much how she felt when she got the offer. I dunno exactly what she would've done if she hadn't gotten the offer, but I do know that whatever it is society says you're supposed to do, she'll do the exact opposite of that, just as a matter of principle."

Anja huffs a little laugh and rolls her eyes.

"I guess I can kinda see that, yeah. I just…" She shakes her head and sighs.

"I dunno. Even if this really is what she wants, I'm still worried about her. I… I wish I could somehow stop this whole gang war before anyone else gets killed, but I know I can't, so I guess I just wanted to try and do something about the one little piece I can actually affect." I nod.

"You should think about why that's what you want. You don't have to tell me," I say, holding up a hand.

"Just think about it."

"... Yeah, okay. I'll try. Thanks for listening. And… Tell Cassie to make sure she stays safe, alright?"

"Yeah, of course. Anyway, I should probably get back before Alex assumes you've seduced me."

"Oh, fuck off," she says, laughing and rolling her eyes again. Alex doesn't push me about what we talked about, which I appreciate. I can tell she's still worried about the escalating gang war as well, but she hasn't brought it up again, so I'd rather not bring it up myself. Maybe that's a bit cowardly on my part, we are gonna have to talk about it sooner or later if I ever want to figure out whether or not I can unmask to her, but I feel like I've got enough on my plate for now.

The next stage in the conflict is a lot less dramatic than the previous one, but no less dangerous for it. It starts with a call from Jess, letting me know that some of her people have noticed new Surf 'n Turf tags encroaching on the eastern edge of our territory. I tell my other lieutenants to keep an eye out, and most of them report the same thing over the next couple of days. At first, I find it reassuring that they've been reduced to petty intimidation. But then the next murder happens.

This time, I read about in the paper, which incorrectly assumes that the victim was one of our people. After reassuring everyone he wasn't and doing a bit of investigating, it looks like he was actually an independent dealer, small-time enough that no one in the gang had known about him even though he'd been operating in our territory. Unlike us, Surf 'n Turf is apparently no longer worrying about collateral damage.

There's another similar murder a few days later, this time outside a house party in South Franklin, with another small-time independent dealer as the victim. The third time, they get lucky. It's the second Saturday in December when I get the call, once again heading to the community center to meet. Waiting for me are Sarge, Rick, and one of Rick's dealers named Isaac, who's shaking and shivering on a folding chair. Sarge speaks first, bluntly.

"Watson's dead." I resist the urge to swear, and instead say, "Tell me." Isaac answers, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself.

"We- we were at this house party over on Lincoln Street, just- just like a mile from here, tops. I- I figured it was far enough west to be safe, but Watson, he- he insisted on coming with me, said it was orders. I was- I was just doing business like- like usual, and then I turn around and there's these four guys right there, and they- they grab me and start dragging me off before I even realize what's going on. But then Watson grabs one of them, puts a gun to his back and tells the others to let me go.

He says they can go out the front, and we'll go out the back, and everyone walks away."

"So that's- that's what we did, jumped the fence into this alley, but then it was a dead end, and when we tried to find another way out, they were- they were already coming down the alley after us. Watson, he- he tackled me behind the corner of this big fence right before they started shooting, shot back a couple times to slow them down. It was- it was too big a fence to jump, but that was the only way out, so Watson said he'd give me a boost. I- I didn't even think about how he was gonna get over, I just did it.

And then, just- just like a second or two later, he yells at me to run, and there's- there's a whole fucking bunch of gunshots, and I…" He trails off for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I know I should've stayed and helped him, but I- I just…"

"You did nothing wrong," I tell him.

"Watson's job was to keep you safe, and he did it. He died a hero. Right now, I need you to answer a couple questions for me. Can you do that?"

"... Yeah, yeah, I can do that," he says.

"Is there any chance Surf 'n Turf actually knows who you are by name?"

"I- I don't think so, no. Jesus, I fucking hope not. I didn't tell anyone at the party my name, at least."

"They most likely don't, then. Do you think you'd be able to recognize any of them, if we showed you some photos?"

"I, uh… I guess I might be able to?"

"I got the photos with me," says Sarge, passing me a folder.

"Excellent. Well done," I say, taking it and passing it to Isaac. He opens it, slowly going through. He's silent for a minute or two.

"This guy," he says eventually, stopping on one sheet.

"I'm almost positive this guy was one of 'em. He was the one who Watson grabbed to start with."

"Good," I say, nodding and looking at the file in question, a guy named Derrick. He keeps browsing, but doesn't get any other matches.

"That's fine. You've given us plenty to work with." I ask him a couple more quick questions, then send him home to get some rest, telling him to take a few days off. Next, I turn to Rick.

"We need to get anything incriminating out of Watson's house before the police search it. Can you handle it?"

"I know where he lived, but I don't have a key or anything," says Rick.

"Give me the address and I'll take care of it, then." He nods, borrowing a pencil and a scrap of paper from Sarge to scribble it down.

"We're going to have to start keeping our people a lot more concentrated. At least three enforcers for any event we're doing business at, I think."

"That's gonna make it a lot harder to do business," notes Rick.

"I know. I suspect there's going to be a lot fewer events to do business at after this anyway, though. They're trying to strangle us out."

"We gonna hit back?" asks Sarge.

"I intend to pay a little visit to our friend Derrick myself. You should keep your focus on finding somewhere to hit them that will really hurt. We don't have the numbers to go after them the same way they're going after us, and they'll be able to outlast us anyway."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm sorry about Watson," I say before I leave.

"We'll do something for him and the others once this is over."

"Yeah," says Rick.

"He was a good kid."

"Hope he took a couple of those bastards with him," says Sarge, glaring at nothing in particular. The first thing I do after leaving is fly over to the address Rick gave me. It's an apartment, and I let myself in the usual way. I take the time to search it thoroughly and carefully, since the cops aren't breathing down my neck this time. It's melancholy, going through his things, knowing he's never coming back for them.

Watson had only been in the gang for a couple of months, and I'd spoken to him just a handful of times, but he was still one of my people. Given that he died protecting another one of my people, he was exactly the kind of person I want in the Sun Eaters. I search for around forty five minutes, securing a little bag of weed, a spare gun with a couple boxes of ammo, a few hundred dollars in cash, and a little notebook of names and phone numbers for customers.

Giving one last look around, I lock the door behind me, then fly to the other address. This one, I've visited before, when I took the photos. I'm not sure if Derrick will be home yet, but if he's not, I'll be happy to wait for him. When I let myself in, though, I find the apartment obviously vacant. Damn; he must've already gone into hiding. At least no one else has rented the place yet, that would've been real awkward. Frustrated, I fly home.

The good news is that Watson did in fact take one of them with him, which I learn from the paper a couple days later. The bad news is that like I feared, business starts drying up almost immediately. One of our dealers reports that the host of the party she was doing business at Sunday night asked her to leave when he noticed her, saying that he didn't want to risk any trouble.

We've still got a good number of individual customers, but parties account for a pretty sizeable chunk of our income, especially since we can get away with charging higher prices there. Tuesday night, I hang out with Elliot. He hasn't been super happy about the ongoing gang war, but at least he's gained enough confidence to actually express it.

"Look, you don't have to keep justifying yourself," he tells me.

"I believe you that they started it, I don't think you're wrong for fighting back, but I still just… don't like it. Like… Doesn't it just seem pointless? They attack you cause they're afraid you'll attack them at some point in the future, shouldn't there be some way for you to just, you know, agree not to kill each other?" I laugh a little.

"That'd be nice, yeah. You ever heard of the prisoner's dilemma?" He frowns, then shakes his head.

"It's a kind of, like, thought experiment. So, two guys get arrested, and the cops try and get both of them to give evidence against the other. If they both refuse, they both get a one-year sentence. If they both talk, they both get a two-year sentence. But if one talks and the other refuses, the guy who talked goes free and the guy who didn't gets a five-year sentence."

"Um… Okay? I'm not sure I get it."

"It's about trust. If the two guys trust each other, they'll both refuse to talk, and they'll only serve one year each. That's the best possible outcome. But if they don't trust each other, then they're risking a full five-year sentence if they refuse to talk, and have the potential to go free if they do talk. So they both talk, and they both end up serving two years when they could've just served one.

And if either of them tries to give the other the benefit of the doubt, chances are he'll end up getting screwed over."

"... Huh. So, like… In this case, agreeing to a truce would be the one-year sentence, the gang war is the two-year sentence, and one of you betraying the other later would be the five-year sentence?"

"You got it," I agree.

"It works on multiple levels, too. Like, the first fight last month, chances are pretty good that their guys were only ordered to rough my guys up a little, not actually kill them. But there wasn't any way for my guys to know that for sure, and they had no way to defend themselves without lethal force, so things escalated a bunch right from the start."

"People don't just go around killing each other all the time so the other person doesn't kill them first, though."

"Sure, cause if you kill someone out of paranoia, the actual police come and arrest you. And you know the same thing is true of the other guy. So there's a degree of automatic trust, cause you can both assume that the other guy doesn't want to ruin their own life for no good reason. But that doesn't work so well for criminals, cause the cops already want to arrest us anyway. And it really doesn't work well for magicals, cause we're a hell of a lot harder to arrest. We have to build trust the hard way.

It's not impossible, you and me are proof of that, but Obsidian wouldn't accept anything less than killing one of the Syndicate's guys as proof that I wouldn't betray them. I said no cause I'm not an idiot, so here we are."

"... Would you have betrayed them, if they'd agreed to a truce?"

"Not on my own, no. But if the Syndicate rolled into town and told me it was me or them? Yeah, probably. So in that sense, they were right not to trust me. Their real mistake is just thinking they stand a chance against the Syndicate in the first place." I shrug.

"Trust is complicated. I might go against the Syndicate for someone I really care about, but that'd mean leaving Franklin, cause I'm not suicidal. And since I already know they're screwed in the long term, I wouldn't have let myself ever start to really care about them." Elliot shakes his head, laughing slightly.

"Man, sometimes I feel like I'm starting to figure out what goes on inside your head, but then you remind me I've actually got no idea." Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"I just take the time to actually think about things instead of taking stuff for granted, is all," I say, shrugging again and grinning slightly.

"So what now, then?" he asks after a bit.

"How does the war end, if there's no way you can trust each other enough for a truce?"

"Well, time isn't really on our side right now," I admit.

"We've hurt them more than they've hurt us, but not enough to overcome their starting advantage. If things keep going like they are, the Sun Eaters will probably collapse before Surf 'n Turf. If all else fails, I'll have to go to the Syndicate for help, and then they'll own me. The only other thing I can do is hurt them a lot worse, enough that they can't keep pressuring us like this."

"... You mean kill a lot more of them."

"Yeah. I mean kill a lot more of them." He's quiet for a long time, eventually letting out a sigh.

"I still don't like it. But I guess it's not like the Syndicate would have a different solution, if you did go to them. And if you just stop fighting back, then they'll kill you instead, and I don't want that either. Just…" He sighs again.

"Just make sure killing people never becomes your first solution, okay?"

"Okay." He's not really in the mood for more sparring after that, so we head back pretty soon afterwards. I do get him to promise to come hang out in civvies at least once or twice over winter break. Apparently he's hung out with Anja a couple of times on his own since they unmasked to each other. I feel like that's a generally positive development, but it's also a bit of a potential timebomb; Elliot's not really the greatest liar, and he couldn't hide the fact that I know who he is.

If she really presses him about me, there's almost certainly going to be inconsistencies. For now, though, she seems mostly assured that if I have figured out who she is as well, I'm not going to spread it around. Ironically, her biggest worry is that Cassie will figure out who she is and tell Schwarzschild. Friday is the last day of school before winter break. Despite the ongoing gang war, the temptation to party is too strong for plenty of kids.

I get invited to more than one, and as much as I want to go, I force myself to go straight home after work instead. All of my enforcers have my cellphone number now, which probably means I'll need to get a new one sooner than I'd like, but it also means I'll hopefully be able to respond to any attacks fast enough to make a difference. It's an unpleasant couple of hours, sitting alone in my livingroom trying to distract myself while waiting for my phone to ring, and it's almost a relief when it actually does.

"Yes?" I answer immediately. It's Dylan on the other end.

"Hey, uh, got a potential problem. Not super urgent, we already left, but you might want to get over here. Can you meet us at, uh, the park on Polk street?"

"I'm on my way." I hang up, transform, and immediately take off. I actually reach the park before them, their car pulls into the lot about half a minute after I arrive. I hover overhead for a bit until they get out to confirm it's actually them, then descend. There's five of them: Dylan, Kurt, Tre, and a couple of Brian's dealers. The dealers startle noticeably more than the enforcers when I appear. Hiding my amusement, I say, "What do we have?"

"So, we were doing business at the party on West 27th, a few blocks south of here," says Dylan, gesturing.

"Guy comes up to Vince here to buy a couple joints, nothing weird, except I recognized him, cause I was staking his place out for like six hours the other week. He was one of the maybes, we couldn't figure out if he was a member one way or another. He went out back afterwards like he was gonna light up, and I couldn't see exactly where he went, but I got a real bad feeling. So I grabbed everyone and we headed out, and then I called you."

"You did the right thing," I reply immediately.

"The five of you are done for the night. I'll handle it from here."

"Sure thing. Pay those fuckers back for Watson, boss."

"I intend to." I take off, flying south until I spot the party and landing in a nearby pine tree. It's a big house, a lot further from downtown than any of the previous parties Surf 'n Turf has hit. They're getting more aggressive, but hopefully this time they've overstepped. Sure enough, I've barely waited ten minutes when a black SUV pulls up and six guys in blue and black jackets pile out of it. My eyesight is good enough to recognize my old friend Brent.

A seventh guy comes out from the front door to meet them, the guy Dylan originally noticed. They head inside after a short conversation, although I'm too far to hear anything. The first thing that happens is that people start coming out of the house and hurrying away from the party, first in a trickle and then in a flood, some of them outright running. There's a fender bender as two cars try to pull out at the same time, both drivers probably drunk.

They roll down the windows and swear at each other for a couple seconds, then decide there's more important things to worry about and drive away in opposite directions. The evacuation has mostly finished by the time the Surf 'n Turf guys reemerge, another ten or so minutes later. It's hard to say for sure, but they definitely seem annoyed with the guy who called them in. All seven of them pile back into the SUV and pull away. I follow.

The seven of them are already a major prize, but if I'm lucky, they're about to lead me to an even bigger one. They drive east, past the University and to the far side of Osbourne Hill, near the outskirts of Franklin. Then they turn south, up into the hills, eventually pulling into the driveway of another fairly large house. It's not quite isolated, but it's definitely private, with plenty of trees between the neighbors. There's a garage, but they park outside it, right next to another black SUV.

Yeah, this definitely looks promising. I wait for them to all to go inside before I descend. I'm about ninety percent sure I've just discovered one of Surf 'n Turf's major safe houses, maybe even their main one, but I want to make absolutely sure before I do anything I can't take back. Most of the windows have the blinds down, but I find a couple of smaller windows right under the roof which don't have blinds. Peering through, I see a spacious living room, or at least that's probably what it was originally.

Now it's an armory, with pistols and boxes of ammo stacked on shelves against the wall. A guy sits at a table in the middle of the room doing maintenance on a disassembled assault rifle. That's enough to convince me. Now, the only question is whether I can grab some of those guns for myself, along with the cash they've certainly got inside as well. It's very tempting, the Sun Eaters could really use it right now, but I have no idea what (or who) else might be inside.

No, this is the break I've been looking for, and I need to really make it count. I dart back to the driveway, landing between the two SUVs. The first time I did this, my gravity field couldn't quite cover an entire van. Now, I easily pull both SUVs into the air with me. I take them high, probably close to half a mile up, until the house almost looks like a toy. Then, I fling them down.

This is where the true strength of my magic is revealed, something I can't really make full use of in combat, but absurdly potent when I've got enough space to work with. The cars rocket downwards, crossing the distance in less than two seconds, and the house ceases to exist. Huge chunks of flaming debris go flying into the surrounding trees, and the house itself is obscured beneath an enormous plume of flame and smoke.

It takes the sound of the explosion another second to reach me, a harsh crack and longer rumble like a thunderbolt. Might've overdone it a little; I hope I didn't blow out any of the neighbors' windows, or eardrums. I fly back down quickly, although not nearly as quickly as the cars, then slow to examine the scene. A few sections of wall are still standing, but most of the former house is spread across the surrounding yard. Loud pops and cracks come from the burning debris as stored ammunition cooks off.

A sizeable crater is just visible in the center of the former house through the slowly clearing smoke. The bodies are hard to spot, all half-buried by the rest of the debris. One figure is still moving, and I come to an abrupt halt as I spot her. She's kneeling over another body, having cleared the debris off of him, but immediately surges to her feet, spinning to face me.

She looks very much worse for the wear, covered in scraps and a couple of larger gashes, any of which probably would have been lethal to a regular human. For a moment, my breath catches in my throat. Could the body next to her be Obsidian? It's not impossible, if I caught him sleeping then he might not have woken in time to transform. But no, a closer look and the light from the fires reveals that it's Brent, less lucky this time than he was last time.

I let myself feel a brief flicker of satisfaction before focusing on the threat. Barracuda's serrated bone sword appears in her hand with a glimmer of light.

"I'll fucking kill you for this," she snarls at me, her voice trembling with rage. I quickly evaluate. She still has the slightest edge on me in power, and the physical injuries won't have damaged her magical resistance at all, but that doesn't mean she can just ignore them. More importantly, she's alone. I have no idea where Obsidian is, but it's entirely possible I've got a good long while before he's alerted to my attack.

This could be the best chance I'll get to kill one of them, and even if I can't beat her, I'm completely confident I can at least escape. So I spread my arms and reply, "Is this not what you wanted? Did you really think starting a war wouldn't have consequences?" Her only answer is a scream of rage, and she launches herself at me. My veins feel like they're surging with lightning, and I have to force down my grin. She's already made a mistake; only one of us can actually fly.

Simply gliding a couple of feet to the right is enough to avoid her leap. Unable to reach me with her sword, she instead lashes out with her free hand. A thin disk of water launches itself at me, around six feet across, although it doesn't really behave like water. It's more like a sawblade, spinning rapidly with sharp, serrated edges like her sword, and the water glows slightly silver. I slice through the disk with my spear.

The silver glow of her magic winks out, and it splashes over me as nothing but mundane water. I wait until she's just passing me, then dart forward, striking at her exposed back. She twists in midair in a way that's not quite physically possible and manages to bring her sword around. The two weapons clash in a flash of light, but it's a bad angle for her, and my spear slips through to slice a small cut into her shoulder.

I stay on her as she falls back to the ground, but my second strike is deflected properly, driving both of us backwards and giving her the space she needs to land. Instead of immediately pursuing, I take the opportunity to taunt her again, since the first one was so effective.

"Disappointing," I say, clicking my tongue.

"No wonder the Syndicate doesn't consider you a real threat."

"FUCK YOU!" she screams, but she keeps her head enough to not jump at me this time. Instead, she starts hurling more of those water sawblades at me. They don't feel like a deadly threat, I think I can take a hit from one if I need to, but I can't really do much to hurt her at range either. I commit, shooting forwards, dodging a couple of disks and slicing through another. Simultaneously, a second, larger gravity field hurls a sizeable pile of debris at her from the side.

She avoids it by lunging forwards to meet me, and the real fight begins. We exchange half a dozen blows with blinding speed, not even a full second. She dodges a slash with a backflip, throwing a vertical sawblade at me from close range. I spin out of the way, and the debris around me spins as well, lifting up into a makeshift sawblade of my own. She uses her magic defensively, a maw of water filled with sharp teeth opening to swallow the barrage as she lunges back in.

Another furious exchange of blows, and this time I'm driven back, hurling more debris at her as I jump away. I notice a savage grin has crept onto my face despite my best efforts, but it only seems to enrage her more, so why should I care? I dodge another sawblade, landing in a crouch as it flies over my head. It hits a tree behind me instead, shearing clean through the trunk. I don't waste the opportunity, sending the tree crashing down on her as she comes for me like I did to Anja.

This time, her magic takes the form of a mass of writhing barbed tentacles, shredding the tree as it descends. She bursts out of a cloud of needles and woodchips just in time to meet my lunge. Magic crackles as we exchange more blows. I throw a big section of the trunk at her, and she dodges sideways, staying close. She tries the tentacles on me, and I jump backwards to avoid them; it seems to be an inherently short-ranged attack. I bring the trunk back around, this time spinning it as well.

Instead of dodging, she jumps off it like a springboard, using it to reach me faster than I expect. Her strike hits hard, knocking me back as I block it, and she lashes out with a single tentacle, longer than the others. It cuts me in the side before I slice through it, stinging painfully, but not actually damaging my resistance.

"That's right," she snarls as I land about ten feet away.

"Not so tough without your cheap shots, are you?" My grin doesn't falter even slightly.

"Maybe I'll keep that scar to remember you by, along with your talisman." She lunges for me again. I try something new. The ground under us erupts upwards and outwards, blasting both of us with a wave of dirt. It doesn't really hurt either of us, but it does make her lose her footing. She still manages to somehow push off something, avoiding falling into the pit that's suddenly opened beneath us. Her jump carries her straight into me, too close to avoid completely, but I still pull myself forwards and to the side.

Our weapons clash, grating against each other, but I have leverage and she has none. I twist my spear hard, and it breaks through her guard, cutting another, deeper gash into her sword arm. I don't get off for free. While our weapons are locked, she hurls another sawblade at me, too close to dodge. It hits me in the thigh and hurts a lot more than the tentacle did, cutting me deep enough to hit bone. I stumble slightly as I land, my leg complaining at the weight.

Still, though, the injury is entirely physical, not damaging my resistance, and that means I got the better of the exchange. Deep as the gash is, it won't take more than a minute or two to heal, whereas the injury she took from my actual weapon will heal much slower. She clearly understands the same thing, immediately dashing back in to take advantage of my injury while it lasts. Unfortunately for her, I don't actually need my legs.

I float upwards and backwards, well out of her range, daring her to try and jump after me again.

"Get down here, you fucking coward!" she yells, hurling another sawblade at me. I dodge it easily, once again bombarding her with debris in retaliation. We exchange purely magical attacks for several seconds, neither of us really accomplishing anything, but the delay works to my advantage. Growling in frustration, she sends one final sawblade at me, then turns and sprints away. I hesitate for a moment, then pursue.

I could follow her from the air, true, but that risks her joining up with Obsidian if she knows where he is. She's called my bluff; the only way I can stop her from leaving is by reengaging her on her terms. I catch up to her in the street. As I expect, she immediately turns and attacks again as I close. I'm slightly on the defensive now, still favoring my injured leg. She attacks ferociously, driving me backwards and managing to land another cut with one of those barbed tentacles.

I retaliate by blowing up the street under her, but this time she somehow manages to keep her footing, defying physics. I send the chunks of asphalt flying at her from every angle, and she blocks with another toothy maw. A couple slip through, slamming into her back, but she ignores the hits and closes the distance again. Another viciously fast series of blows. I yank myself backwards to avoid the short-range mass tentacle attack, then blow up the street again, just so I have some loose material to work with.

I pull it into a tight spinning ring around me, this time jumping forwards and slashing through the magic she tries to block it with. She lets out a pained grunt as the barrage slams into her, but doesn't let it stop her, continuing to press me hard. I'm just a tad too slow to dodge an attack thanks to my leg, and the tip of her sword cuts a burning line of pain across my chest. It's a shallow cut, but still a hit from her actual weapon, which means every hit I take going forwards will hurt just a little bit more.

I keep falling back, now into an intersection with a larger street. An idea strikes me. Dropping any offensive use of my magic, I instead focus it completely on mobility, making up for my injury. That means she's free to use her magic entirely for offense, and she does, hurling a constant barrage of sawblades and tentacles at me even as we continue to exchange blows with our weapons. I stay ahead of it all, barely, dodging strikes by inches.

Her magic carves gouges into the street, slices some unlucky guy's parked car in half… and then smashes a utility pole. Instantly, I send the pole crashing down on her, throwing myself backwards and upwards. She dodges easily. The pole slams into the ground. The transformer at the top explodes with a deafening bang. The power lines snap. There's water everywhere. Barracuda shrieks as she's suddenly assaulted by several thousand volts of electricity. Reflexively, she jumps away with all her strength.

I shoot forwards, never touching the ground. It's just like the very first exchange, except this time her muscles are still spasming slightly from the shock. Even so, she manages to deflect my spear enough that the blade only cuts a long slash down the left side of her back instead of going straight through her heart It's still not enough to break through her resistance, but another hit like that will almost certainly do it. She hits the ground running, now in full retreat.

I catch up almost immediately, and she lashes out with those tentacles to keep me back. I answer by blowing up the street under her again, sending the chunks of asphalt zooming after her when she jumps clear. She blocks them with her own magic, but it forces her to turn, and I close the distance. The injury on my leg has healed enough that it's not really slowing me anymore, and now I'm the one pressuring her. She fends me off desperately, constantly retreating, but unable to make any real distance.

Despite the intensity of the fight, it's only been a couple of minutes since it started. Sirens have been approaching for a while now, and a cop car turns onto the street I'm chasing Barracuda down. It takes them about two seconds to understand what they're looking at, and then the car comes to a screeching halt as the driver slams on the breaks. Before it can reverse or do anything else, our fight has already reached it.

Barracuda dives behind the car for cover, correctly guessing that I want to avoid hurting any cops. I catch a brief glimpse of two terrified officers through the front window as I soar overhead. Then I'm on top of Barracuda again, forcing her away from the car and further down the street. She's tough, skilled, and determined, I'll grant her. Even injured, she manages to avoid taking another hit from my spear.

I do smash her with a few more chunks of asphalt and other assorted debris, and that's got to hurt with her resistance damaged, but she endures it stoically. Still, she's completely on the defensive, and she can't escape. One slip-up is all it'll take for the fight to be over. Then, as I'm once again darting towards her, the street in front of me erupts into a forest of spikes. I jerk myself higher, passing over them, and deflect another sawblade from Barracuda. She's already sprinting away.

I uproot the spikes and volley them at her, but more spikes thrust up to intercept them. And then it's too late. Obsidian skids to a halt next to Barracuda, placing himself between me and her. I allow myself the luxury of a quiet curse. I'd hoped he'd be further away, too far to hear the explosion or the sirens, but no such luck. Briefly, I consider continuing the fight anyway, but no; Barracuda was still managing to hold me off even on her own, if only barely.

With Obsidian still completely fresh, there's no way I can finish her off now. For a few seconds, we just glare at each other. I speak first.

"Are you ready to admit your position is hopeless yet? You must see by now that you have no future in Franklin. Leave now, so no one else needs to die."

"Fuck you," snarls Barracuda.

"Should've known you were the Syndicate's lapdog from the start. What was the deal, huh? You kill us, and they give you the city? Don't worry, you won't live long enough for them to start pulling the leash tight."

"We have nothing else to say to you," adds Obsidian coldly.

"The time for negotiation is passed. This only ends one way now."

"I suppose it does," I agree. I leave it there, shooting up higher into the air, but I don't leave yet. Instead, I come to a stop above them, at the very limit of where I can still make them out. Will they repeat the same mistake as their subordinates, and lead me back to their personal safehouse? And even if they realize I might be following, how do they intend on getting rid of me? For about a minute, they just stay where they are, Barracuda probably filling Obsidian in on the details of my attack.

A cop car approaches, then hurriedly backs off when it spots them, observing from a good two blocks away. A few more cops form a very loose perimeter, while nearly a dozen converge on the ruins of the house where the fight started, along with firetrucks and ambulances. I even see a helicopter approaching from downtown. The anthill has been truly and thoroughly kicked. Eventually, they start moving, running at a good fifty or sixty miles an hour. I drop down lower so I don't lose them.

They head south and west, not quite retracing the path of our fight, but still opposite the direction Obsidian came from. They quickly reach the hills, forcing me to drop down even more so the trees don't block my vision. I'm growing increasingly sure that they do realize I'm following, but running alone is not going to be nearly enough to get away. Unfortunately, they clearly realize the same thing. Once they're well into the hills, they jump entirely over someone's house and into the forest behind.

I move even lower, just above the treetops; I can't see them anymore, but I can certainly hear the crash as they land. But then a tree slowly leans and then topples over, branches snapping like firecrackers as it crashes through other trees and finally hits the ground. It takes several seconds for everything to settle, and then there's silence except for the distant sirens. Scowling, I fly down through the trees and search the area, but there's nothing.

I search for a few more minutes just to be thorough, but I'm not expecting to find anything. Eventually I accept that they've gotten away cleanly, turning and flying back towards the west side of town. Tonight was still a major victory; I'm pretty sure I took out the majority of their enforcers, which almost certainly means they won't be randomly crashing any more parties.

It's also got to be a massive hit to their morale, and I'd be surprised if they don't end up losing more members to defections than they lost to me tonight. The war isn't over yet, though, and in some ways it's become more dangerous than ever. If the white masks weren't paying attention before, they definitely are now, and even if I was careful to avoid hurting any bystanders, I certainly caused plenty of property damage. That's not something I can afford to make a habit of.

And while Surf 'n Turf as a whole has been thoroughly knocked back against the ropes, Barracuda and Obsidian themselves probably have enough cash saved up to hold out for months at least. As long as we continue keeping our heads down, they're gonna need some serious luck to find us. But if and when they do? They're gonna be real, real pissed.