Quarantine or no, New York was one of the most populated cities in the world. Walking through it with a dog bigger than most people was a good way to blow any semblance of surprise he might have. The two of them took shelter from the light of day in one of the abandoned highrises until he could come up with some sort of plan.
The flight from New York to Knoxville was about two hours. Two hours and three minutes from the moment Hank’s plane took off, his phone started to explode with messages of varying levels of threats of bodily harm and his life in general. His favorite of which read:
As soon as I drop James off, I am going to steal Hank’s plane and crash it directly into your as s.
He dismissed the messaging app and turned to the internet. If Walter Harris was in New York, there had to be something being reported. Something he could work with. It didn’t take long for his name to start showing up in headlines.
Walter Harris Gives Journalists Tour of Arcanex Relief Efforts
Walter Harris Donates 1.6 Million USD to Feeding America
Arcanex CEO Set to Announce FDA Approval of Arcanex Cure
Marcus’ lip curled before dropping his phone on the ground between his legs. What a bunch of horseshit. Kane whined at him, the enormous dog pacing back and forth in front of the door.
“If you gotta go, find a spot in here, buddy. It’s too dangerous to go out right now.”
Kane answered him with a disgruntled huff before vanishing in a poof of pink smoke and appearing beside him. His cold, damp nose digging into his neck, making him shrink into himself momentarily. Kane huffed at him again, bouncing on his forepaws.
“Alright, alright. If we get shot, it’s on you, though. You could have just pissed in the hallway.” Marcus pushed himself up to his feet, tucking his phone into his pocket before heading over to the door and poking his head out to check the hallway. They’d checked every room on this floor of the building before they hunkered down, but there was no telling what could happen in this city.
On the ground floor, the building had a little play area for kids. Or, in this case, glimmerfangs. Enclosed by an eight-foot brick wall, he was mostly confident that anybody outside wouldn’t be able to see in unless they were up in one of the other buildings, so he let Kane wander around and handle his business.
If he was going to put an end to this, killing a few more blightshrews wasn’t the path to take. He needed to make a statement in a way that Mr. Stick-In-Ass wouldn’t expect. It was unlikely that Walter still believed he was dead, even with the very convincing funeral and Ophelia’s sell. There was too much evidence to the contrary. Just showing up some place the man was and confronting him wasn’t enough.
Pursing his lips, he pulled up the news feed again and opened the last headline he’d read. Apparently, Walter was holding himself a little press conference at three p.m. Just before the markets close, of course. Marcus gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment before pulling up his messaging app again.
WHY DOES MY HUSBAND HAVE A FUCKING HOLE IN HIS LEG!
WHERE ARE YOU!?
YOU BETTER STAY IN NEW YORK.
IF I SEE YOU AGAIN I AM GOING TO….AHHHHH
Ooof.
Marcus winced at the messages from his sister. What were the chances she’d be amiable enough to help him out with something? He cupped the back of his neck, staring at the keyboard as he tried to formulate the message in his mind. He went through several versions before giving up and just writing out the first thing that popped into his head.
I know you’re pissed, but I need your help.
Three little dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, vanished, then appeared again. This pattern went on for several minutes before a message finally showed up.
What do you need?
Marcus’ lips formed a sad smile, and he glanced up at Kane, who was doing his best to squeeze his massive body into one of those little tube slides. What did he need? An Army? Or maybe just a really good sniper? He sighed and shook his head.
I need you to get all that research we stole to every news outlet in New York City.
How the hell am I meant to accomplish that?
I don’t know, email them or something. Fax? Do people still fax?
Marcus sat on a bench, waiting for the three little dots to culminate in a big ‘go fuck yourself’ message. If she was able to do it, maybe that would disrupt his big triumphant press conference enough to get him on the back foot? Or maybe he’d claim to have leaked it all himself. Show the people the research that lead to their cure. No, if his sister could deliver, he’d have to drive the final nail in that coffin.
I’ll see what I can do.
Grinning, Marcus clicked his tongue a few times before standing. “C’mon Kane,” he whispered before turning to head back for the stairs. There were some absolutely unhinged options. If he could convince Kane not to slaughter them on sight, he could capture a couple blightshrews. Let them loose during the presser. Even dropping a bag full of rodent corpses on the idiot from above would be enough to make a statement. Probably not a strong enough one to put an end to the scheme.
Marcus plopped back down beneath the window of the third floor room they’d taken refuge in and checked the time. Eleven. He had four hours to figure out where the press conference was going to be, make some sort of loose plan, and somehow get himself and a nearly half ton animal through the city.
Easy.
Eleven turned to noon. Then noon to one. He wasn’t any closer to a solution, but he’d found the spot for the conference. Much like Miami, they’d converted a highschool in one of the quarantine zones into a relief center. The press were granted special access into the zone, accompanied by Arcanex forces, obviously, for the conference.
If Kane was a little less conspicuous, maybe he could slip in as one of the journalists. Something told him the glimmerfang wasn’t going to pass as a support animal. They’d have to sneak in, try not to get shot by security…then figure it out from there.
Up until the school itself, the streets were mercifully clear. There was no doubt in his mind onlookers caught them running by from their windows above, but they were fast enough that even if they were to alert Arcanex of their presence they’d be gone long before anyone showed. The Archibald Wrenworth Preparatory Academy grounds were a different story entirely.
The news report said it was a high school, but it easily rivaled Blue Ridge Arcanum in scale. Hundreds of yards of open ground led up to the walled and gated grounds, the only break being a few trees that dotted the area and numerous news vans parked outside the enormous front gates. Even from this distance, Marcus spotted at least two men up on top of the walls, rifles in hand.
“Fuck me…” he grumbled to himself as he and Kane took cover behind a group of cars parked out on the street. “Any ideas?” Marcus looked up at the dog. Kane whined at him, sticking his nose in the air and sniffing loudly. “Couldn’t just be a normal high school, right? Had to be some snooty… Hey!”
Kane yipped at him and then took off down the road.
“Kane, get back here!” Marcus hissed, but the glimmerfang didn’t slow. “Gods be damned.” He grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet again and chased after the dog. Kane rounded the edge of the school’s property before vanishing in a flume of pink, the matching smoke appearing inside the ground-floor window of a neighboring department store.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, dog.” Marcus grumbled as he sprinted for the front door where Kane barked at him expectantly from the other side. He pushed. Pulled. Twisted. The door didn’t budge, and Kane did not stop barking. “It’s locked!” he told the dog, who cocked his head. “Do you see a lock? Can you paw it or something?”
Kane whined at him, vibrant purple eyes scanning the door before he slowly backed up further into the building.
“Oh, no… don’t even think—dammit!” Marcus quickly moved the side, the runes of the jumpsuit flaring green beneath his sweatshirt as Kane crashed through the glass and gave him a bark that he could barely hear of the blaring alarm system. “You’ve gotta be…” Marcus let out an exasperated growl before waving his hands. “Fine, go before somebody comes to find us.”
He followed Kane into the department store, through several aisles that smelled of dust and cheap leather, and finally to the warehouse in the back. The emergency exit led to an alley where his companion stopped to sniff at the air again before bounding off to the right, in the direction of the school. To his credit, when they emerged from the alley, they were much closer to the school. There was still a couple hundred feet of open grass before they got to the wall he wasn’t sure how they were going to get passed, but on the bright side, Kane’s detour did them the favor of diverting a few of the Arcanex guards across the ground to check out the sound. So there was that, at least.
“Fuck it.” Marcus scratched behind the dog’s ears. “We just gotta do it right?” As he was about to sprint across the field, his phone buzzed against his shoulder. He dug it out of the little pocket and pulled up the message.
It’s all been released to the press. Whatever you’re doing, you better make it good.
The message was from Victoria’s number this time. At least she hadn’t gotten right back on the plane to come and get him. He tucked the phone away and stared at the wall again. He couldn’t see them from here, but he knew the guards were up on the wall, taunting him. Just waiting for some idiot to come running through an open field in the direction of their fearless leader. Marcus shook his head, dismissing the fear, and gave Kane one more good scratch. “Let’s go, boy.”
Marcus ran. Ran faster than he ever had before. Faster than the time he’d accidentally popped a howler spine, and it chased him clear across it’s enclosure. For a moment, he was moving so fast that the thought crossed his mind that he could just run right through the solid brick wall. Or jump it? His eyes got a split second measurement and scanned the top for guards. It couldn’t be more than fifteen feet, and he was souped up with magic.
Marcus’ feet sprang for two more wildly long strides, his shoulders crying out his arms were pumping so fast, and then leapt.
Limbs flaily wildly, Marcus cleared the wall. The surge of pride was quickly squandered by the sight of what waited for him on the ground. “Kane! Run!” Marcus called out as he plummeted into a group of no fewer than a dozen Arcanex guards in the middle of a smoke break. He landed, two feet planting on the wrought-iron table they were all situated around and immediately tried to run. It was fruitless. His only hope at that point was a burst of pink smoke didn’t follow him in his utter stupidity.
Yelling sounded from behind him, but he didn’t stop until the sharp pain dug through the cotton and synthetic of his jumpsuit into his shoulder. He glanced down, expecting to see the familiar half dollar sized hole through his chest, only for his limbs to suddenly go horrifyingly straight as electricity coursed through his body.
Marcus fell.