The Permutation

Apex (Part 5) Paul

A woman with violet hair answered. She also did not seem she was going to be a member of the Paul Neiman fan club.

"The people in this town are infested with parasites, and you'd be one too if we hadn't saved your sorry ass."

Saucy Lass? Delightful.

Paul shivered, an overall odd sensation when you could only feel your body from the waist up. He knew what the woman was referring to. He remembered the dark marbles in the place of Diego Sandoval's eyes. They were devoid of anything resembling a human being, and if more of his like were about to fall on their little group, Paul didn't like their chances, unless somebody else had an ace up their sleeve.

He quested out with his tendrils trying to sense the parasites' approach, but he found nothing. He didn't know where they were, so his tendrils were limited to his immediate surroundings.

"You and you," Paul pointed at Officer Durant and The Being with the permanent scowl that stayed even when he changed faces, "I need you to lift me to a position where I can see the welcome wagon. I can be 'craftier' that way."

Perry raised his eyebrows at Paul's words but he acquiesced to the request and then felt the need to assert the obvious, "I don't know what any of these people are talking about. I'm playing catch up myself, but I do know this you miserable pile of human waste. If you hurt anyone else, I will make you regret it for the rest of your pathetic existence. Do we understand each other?"

"Read you loud and clear officer!" Paul gave the man a crisp salute, well as much as someone could with an arm that looked like a dinner ham, "Lucky for you I happen to speak Neanderthal."
While he was mentally sparring with the officer, Paul flexed his tendrils. They were not nearly as powerful as he was accustomed to, but the impromptu nap had replenished him to a degree.

The millionaire halted their conversation mid-flow, "I can see them."

Paul glanced in the direction the man was looking. He needed to squint his eyes, years of looking at a computer screen too closely had taken its toll on Paul. He saw the outline of at least ten forms crossing the distance between their group and the fence of the drive-in with a speed that would have given Usain Bolt a run for his money.

Most of the people that were assembled did not seem surprised at the events, and Paul realized that many of these people had been experiencing events as strange as his. It prickled at Paul's ego, but he shoved that aside. He was a creature of self-preservation, and he still hadn't exacted his revenge upon his enemies. That meant overcoming pettiness for the greater good. The greater good being the meticulous murder of his tormentors.

 The little girl, Paul's pesky neighbor, spoke up. Her voice gave Paul the creeps. It was calm and composed and eerie in its certainty. 

"We are drawing them to us."

A boy, perhaps the girl's polar opposite, chimed in. The exuberance of the boy would be annoying even if they weren't in a life or death scenario.

"The bad guys always come for the heroes after they've thought they won," his statement was as exactly as matter-of-fact as the girl's, but far more asinine.

he belligerent Being groaned and Paul felt a moment where he sympathized with the creature and then immediately hated himself for it.

"Don't hurt them, these people are our friends and family," the millionaire stated eliciting another groan from the Being.

The Asian woman, she looked familiar to Paul, asked the little girl, "What do you mean by drawing them to us?"

"We're special," the girl said referring to their entire group, "And these people, the parasites, are special in a different way. That makes us all connected, but I think our type of special angers-"