"What are we going to do?"
Zane sat with his head in his hands, his gaze slipping through his fingers like prison bars. His elbows rested on his knees and his mind whirled. The single jet was obviously a force sent in to specifically kill them quietly. Wawrzynski had orchestrated for them to go to London, so there was no possibility in which he staged a battle there. He knew they would not fight on his side, so they were a failed experiment to dispose of.
But Zane would not go easily.
He remembered when Joseph had almost killed himself on the plane, and just how helpless Zane had felt. He knew he'd be lost without Joseph. He would feel no drive to continue, to keep avoiding Wawrzynski. So when the thought of Joseph being brutally murdered crossed his mind, Zane knew he would do anything to prevent it. Even if it meant he himself died, he would ensure that Joseph got the life he both wanted and deserved.
"We're going to keep fighting him," Anastasia said. "I know just how cruel he can be, but I've also seen his flaws, his fears." Her eyes shone with rage, and Zane suddenly saw an imprisoned girl, crying for help, surrounded by lava. But in the midst of it all, she was fighting. She was struggling to keep her head above the boiling magma, fighting for each breath. Zane himself knew she could breathe in lava. Why his brain had not considered that fact, he didn't know.
"And what's that?"
Anastasia's knee began to bounce up and down in agitation. "He always thinks he's right," she said. "It never crosses his mind that he's wrong. That's how we were able to fool his first plan, the one with the weird weapons."
"Yeah, that's weird," Jonas said, cocking his head. "What do you think he intended to accomplish?" He was standing in a nearby corner, his shoulder leaned against the wall. His tall, wiry frame appeared comical in nature, bent in the middle like a deformed paper clip. His arms dangled at his sides, his fingers twitching, rivulets of information zipping in and out of the microchip and into his brain.
"Nothing worse than this," Daisy said, biting at a fingernail. She regarded it like an annoying zit, her face contorted in disgust. She rummaged in her pack nearby, soon emerging triumphant with a bottle of nail polish the same piercing blue as her hair. When Zane raised an eyebrow, she smiled. "A girl's gotta look pretty," she said. "To kick some ass."
Mallory snorted and Anastasia rolled her eyes. "We're on the brink of nuclear war, what use is makeup and manicures?" her twin sister asked. Mallory shot Anastasia a weird look, probably surprised they had agreed on something.
Daisy scoffed. "Am I not allowed to look pretty and be badass?" she demanded, her eyes flashing between the two other girls.
When neither of them responded, Zane said, "I think you look dashing."
Daisy smiled. "Thanks," she said, applying the polish rather sloppily. Her eyeliner had also been reapplied recently, and her earrings of the same color flashed. She certainly had a theme.
"To get this conversation back on track," Jonas said, absentmindedly staring out the window. "Wawrzynski not only always thinks he's right, but he's scared of rebellion, hence why he performed his experiments in New Vancouver, where that was virtually impossible."
Zane looked at Joseph, seated next to him. "But still possible,"
Joseph winked.
"Exactly," Jonas responded, heeding no visible attention to Zane and Joseph, but his microchip was probably already processing the gazes they'd given each other and the subtle feelings and emotions they implied. "If his experiments were to be made public in New Vancouver and not disguised as the experimental science division, revolution could happen." He sounded very confident. "And if the whole world knew, he would be an outcast, a shunned scientist with worldwide aspirations."
"But who would people believe a group of teenagers who can't even prove their names?" Joseph's question struck home. None of them had defining documents on them, and if they told people, they'd only have their own word to rely on.
Jonas didn't falter. "What about the subject files Zane stole?" he asked, gesturing to Zane's pack on the floor. "Are they not legal documents?" Zane scrunched his brow in concentration. They could be considered legal documents, but perhaps remote or unfamiliar enough to cause conspiracies or questions.
He shook his head. "Not reliable enough," he said. "Nobody here has ever seen anything like that. They'd naturally be suspicious."
Joseph nodded. "And if we did release his information, would he not be more inclined to get rid of us so we don't cause any more trouble?"
Jonas conceded. "You're right, of course," he said. "This microchip may have all the information, but it's my brain that has to put it together. Sometimes it's exhausting." He rubbed his temples as if trying to massage his brain. He shut his eyes viciously.
Mallory, who had been silent the whole time, spoke. "Marcus isn't back yet." She stood up from where she'd been sitting on the floor. "We've got to go after him."
Zane glanced uncertainly at the window, prepared for the shadow of a large jet to flit past the window, darkening the room, but no such thing came. He shivered. Marcus was out there alone. "How would we find him?" Zane asked. "If he still looks like a sparrow, there's probably millions nearby."
Mallory shook her head. "He'd have gone after the jet,"
"Does he have a death wish?"
"He just wants to know what's going on!" she yelled. "He doesn't know Wawrzynski is targeting us."
Joseph grunted. "I agree with Mallory. We've got to find Marcus before he does something stupid."
"That's now how I phrased it, but sure,"
"Alright," Zane said. "I can change my appearance, so I can go unnoticed." He looked around the room. "Mallory, no offense, but I can't trust you to come with me. You're very eager to get him back and you might do something you usually wouldn't and, worst case scenario, expose our location."
She nodded. "I know. I trust you."
"Good," he responded. "Jonas, could you come with because I don't think I can remember all the twists and turns we'll have to take to follow the plane." The tall boy nodded. "And Joseph, I need you to keep me from doing something stupid." He nodded.
Daisy finished applying the last of the nail polish. "What about us?" she gestured to herself and her sister. Her eyebrow raised, her replaced eyeliner shockingly bright.
Anastasia chortled, and gestured to their hair. "Do we look inconspicuous, little sis?" she asked.
"Little sis, my ass," Daisy said.
"I'm older,"
"Twenty-three seconds doesn't give you any grace!"
"It does so!"
Their conversation faded into a battle of yeses and nos, a sparring match of familial proportions, but Anastasia's point was proven. Their hair was far too noticeable. Bright blue and vibrant red were sure to attract attention, especially from above.
Zane, Jonas, and Joseph slipped out while Mallory looked at the twins with a painful look in her eyes. A look of betrayal, like why'd you leave me here with them?
Zane laughed quietly as he left the room, the three boys descending the creaky stairs of the foster home to the street below, where they would follow the path they had seen the jet take earlier. Zane winced at every small noise, but Joseph's presence calmed him.
The street was clear, everyone obviously gone toward the newcomer jet, their interest piqued after the first plane soared over. Zane glanced left and right but saw nobody. Jonas's face contorted into a mixture of curiosity and surprise. "They sure weren't expecting anything to the magnitude of a New Vancouver jet," he said, gazing into the distance.
"Amen, brother," Zane responded, setting off down the sidewalk. "Let's go."
Jonas scoffed, his gaze focusing on Zane. "You're kidding, right?" Zane looked at him cautiously, not knowing what was happening. He stopped in his tracks, turned around, and regarded Jonas. "I've got three years of knowledge in this brain-" he tapped his temple. "-and you think I don't know how to hotwire a car?"
Zane laughed. "We're going to steal a car?"
Jonas winked. "It's not stealing if we're going to bring it back,"
"I seriously doubt we're going to bring it back,"
"Are you doubting my capabilities to ensure the safety of an electric car?"
"I'm doubting your ability to drive an electric car,"
"That's why I'm not driving," Jonas said, winking again. "You are."
Zane backed up, hands raised. "Heck no," he responded. "I have never driven a car in my life," he said, seriously doubting his ability to not kill Joseph and Jonas if he did drive.
"No better time to learn," Jonas told him, walking to a nearby car, small enough to be unnoticeable and squeeze through small alleyways which Zane doubted he wanted to do, but thought Jonas would want him to do. He cringed.
A few cells inside a car to unlock it and a few sparked wires later, the small car was started, purring like it was begging to be driven. Zane's hand hovered over the door handle. Did he actually trust himself to get in this car and drive? What if he crashed and killed them all? It sounded foolish, but it was a very plausible assumption. He had never driven anything before, so how could he be expected to do this?
Joseph's hand alighted on his shoulder. "You'll do fine," he said, opening the back door as Jonas had already called shotgun. Zane found this reassurance highly helpful and particularly effective; moments after he spoke the words, Zane opened the door and ducked to slip into the soft leather seat inside. "We are not going to be able to return this car," Zane told Jonas with absolute certainty.
Jonas waved him away. "Nah, it'll be fine,"
Zane rolled his eyes and pressed on the gas pedal. Nothing happened.
"Dude, you're in park," Jonas said, snickering. "Hold the brake and put it in drive, doofus." he shook his head absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on the road before them.
Zane's whole body tensed when he let go of the brake and the car rolled forward. "What happened?"
Jonas sighed. "That just means it's in gear. Give it some gas," he said, shaking his head again. "I'm regretting making you drive."
"I told you it was a bad decision. You didn't listen." Zane pressed the gas pedal and the car rocketed forward. He jumped as he nearly rear-ended a truck, just narrowly avoiding it by pulling into the middle of the street. He jolted when he applied the brake too insistently.
"You'll get it," Joseph piped in happily from the backseat. "Just don't hit a house and we'll be fine."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Zane said sarcastically.
"That's what I'm here for," Joseph shot back with equal sarcasm. Zane didn't dare turn around to glare at him out of fear he might actually hit a building.
Once he'd gotten the basics down, he sped up a little bit, and a random thought struck him. Something Daisy had said before. On the plane. "Jonas," he said. "What's your last name?"
"Delaney," he said softly. "It was my birth mother's name."
"Huh," Zane said, reminding himself to tell Mallory that later. "Cool."
Jonas then said something as if reciting a poem. "Zane Otto Octavius Morrison." Zane cringed.
Joseph caught on. "Your initials spell zoom?" he asked, a hand over his mouth to stop from snickering. This time Zane did glare at him, shooting daggers.
"My parents had no sense of whimsy or humor, it was entirely coincidental," he protested. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and he pushed down harder on the gas pedal.
"Well, come on, Z," Joseph said. "Make like your namesake and zoom." He collapsed backward, laughing, his eyes tearing up at the newfound hilarity. He wheezed in the back seat.
"Asshole," Zane muttered, still speeding up.
Jonas gripped the side of the seat. "Dude, slow down,"
Zane glanced at the spedometer, gaped, and slowly pressed down on the brakes, easing his acceleration and slowing down. He felt the urge to giggle, but he denied it prominence in his brain. He didn't want them to think he was crazy, which may very well be the case. He had physical and emotional trauma from it.
Joseph still wasn't finished laughing, but Zane smiled when he saw how carefree he was in the backseat, lounged across the bench, grasping his stomach. It made Zane happy to see him happy. Zane was also very glad the other boy had not killed himself, or had not tried since the plane trip.
A crowd appeared in front of the car, congregated on the streets, spread out into side streets and nearby buildings.
The plane was on a wide city square in front of them.
Whoever had occupied the jet, they were long gone. The bay doors were lowered and citizens of London now occupied the cargo bay and cockpit, admiring the craftsmanship of it. Wawrzynski had taken careful precautions to remove all possible weapons from this plane. The combat vests in the bunking quarters were gone and the array of missiles was non-existent. Zane doubted Wawrzynski would send this jet here armed with Shaurya missiles or any other nuclear warhead. He wasn't that dense.
The people were oohing and aahing at the magnificent aircraft in front of them, but Zane, Jonas, and Joseph were fixated on the small sparrow on top of a nearby building. "Could it be Marcus?" Zane asked, cocking his head, trying to define any Marcus-like characteristics. He stepped out of the car, melting his body into the form of a nearby man. He still marvelled at the reaches of his power, the ability that with a will he could take a person apart piece by piece. It was terrifying, but he embraced it because it was the only thing that may be able to stop Wawrzynski.
His hair and eyes changed color and his stomach bulged out. He grew slightly taller and his feet shrunk. Joseph stepped out along with him, but his dark brown hair blended into the crowd easily, as did Jonas's. They had no need to hide.
"It could be," Jonas said. "The coloring looks about right."
Joseph sighed. The crowd gasped. "That's not him," he said mournfully.
"Why not?"
Joseph pointed to a nearby car, speeding through the crowds, forcing people to disperse to avoid getting run over. "That's Marcus," he said. At first Zane didn't see what he was talking about, but then he noticed the small bird inside the car, zipping around, attacking the occupants.
Zane sighed. "Why doesn't he just do his bear thing and kill them?" He hated how nonchalant he sounded when he said it.
"Maybe he plans to question them," Jonas said as the car swerved when the driver got a small talon to the eye. "Either way, we've got to go get him. Sparrows are easy to kill."
Zane climbed back in the car, releasing his disguise. "Let's go save his little bird ass."