Come to me now. Drive off this brutal
Distress. Accomplish what my pride
Demands. Come, please, and in this battle
Stand at my side.
-Sappho
The worst part of dying was the waiting around for it to happen.
This is what Flynn didn't say, being constructive and all that. There was hope left, he supposed, somewhere. Probably in Lucy's mildly terrifying expression as she glared at those burnished orange towers rising above the fog which hugged the Golden Gate.
They were so pretty in tragedy, Lucy and Flynn. The vision of the pair lay somewhere between a doomed courtly love and a painfully self aware Bonnie and Clyde. They faced ahead with hands determinedly rooted together. The wind curled Lucy's hair so lovingly against the sharpness of her cheek. The skirt of her blood-coloured dress fluttered and dribbled sinisterly over her thigh wound.
Against Jiya's morose advice, the entire city of San Francisco had been interrogated for the whereabouts of those forty odd men Emma had brought, Benjamin Cahill in particular. As Jiya said and as Flynn, regretfully, believed, there was nowhere left but that intimidating bridge.
They were there,
Waiting.
They all knew it.
"Big net," Rufus broke the silence. Popped from their own tense bubbles pacing around, everyone looked at him. If they looked closely, strings of rope were visible stretching and disappearing through the fog. However, this was not really a time for looking closely.
"Big net," Lucy repeated in disbelief.
"What else are you meant to say?"
She considered.
"... Big net."
A beat passed.
"It saved quite a few people. Only eleven workers died, the entire construction."
Another beat.
"They called the workers who fell from the bridge but got caught the Halfway to Hell Club. Cause... You get it."
The last of the scouts to return emerged from behind the blocky Fort Point, saving them from any of Lucy's further attempts to assuage the silence.
"One problem with your little peace envoy," Emma called, detaching herself a cold distance from the tightly knit team, "we can't get past. We tried."
"We did," Jessica supplied. Jiya nodded with them. "Everything."
"Find another way," Christopher ordered. "We're not letting them take a pilot."
"Too bad."
It was brutal, but it was truth. There was one way to jump over all obstacles, and one pilot capable of such a precise landing who wouldn't accidentally send them drowning in the strait with no computers, no map, no reference. Expectation set on Emma.
"No," she shut it down unequivocally.
"Don't you think you owe us?" Lucy bit over him. She shifted weight across her cane. By her sides, Flynn and Jiya glowered with near paternal similarity.
"I owe you? I owe you?" She wound herself up to hurl something back at them. "Go f-"
"Emma," Amy swung in to guide her out of earshot, saving a fight from breaking out. Emma was entirely rigid, shaking with quick-fire rage. She ripped her arm free.
"I'm not doing it. You want to be superheroes so badly, you can damn well do it yourself." She turned her back, arms folded. Amy guffawed at her audacity.
"Ok. Be a child."
"You're the one who drinks hot milk."
She spluttered. The biggest, most decisive moment of their lives, and Emma was stomping her foot and turning her nose up.
"We're gonna do this now? Hot chocolate is not the same as - Ok. It doesn't matter. I - Emma... Please. Can you even... Comprehend how much I put on the line to help you?"
She hesitated a glance over her shoulder. A fond look guttered.
"You almost had me convinced, June."
Amy longed to object, but what would she say? That she hadn't meant to lie? She had lied again and again and would lie again if she had to. But with Emma, the lie had grown into truth - in its funny, devastating way. She was June, confidante and hot chocolate drinker. Emma was Ems, sarcastic yet surprisingly generous in bed. That had been it, for a moment.
"We need you."
"'We'," Emma repeated snidely. She barely felt the sting. It did not matter anymore. Nothing mattered to Emma if her freedom and her life's work was gone. Certainly not a liar or her scheming, egotistical sister. Dejected rage sunk her down. Then -
"I need you," Amy amended.
The clouds stopped moving. The team watched, talking amongst themselves, unable to hear what confessions were being spilled right from the innards of Amy's heart, Preston pride abandoned. Emma broke down.
"Everything - is blurry," she got out through clenched teeth. "I feel like the next step I take will put my heart into arrhythmia and kill me. Light hurts. Sound hurts. Every muscle. Hurts." When she looked up at that foreboding bridge, vertigo caused her to stagger. "Learn to leave it alone."
Amy realised then that Emma was not blinded by anger, but the fear that had for so long fuelled it. She was an animal with her leg caught in a trap of her own construction.
Instinctually, Amy firmly positioned her hands either side of Emma's head to pull it close and peer into her dimmed eyes. The blurriness around Amy confined itself to the background.
She asked slowly and clearly, "Can you see me?"
"It hurts," was the fractured, whined reply. So a yes. She could see Amy, the betrayer, the fiercely loyal, in all her defined chaos.
"If you can't do this for any other reason than anger, then do it out of spite. Your freedom is the best revenge. Next best? Punching him in his smug fucking face. You gonna let him outdo you like that? Really? You're going to let them take the Mothership? You made half of it!"
A small flame sparked and rekindled in her eye. Amy couldn't tell what it was, but it burnt bright. It drove her back to the team, sluggish though her footsteps may be.
"Fine," she rasped. "Fine."
"I could do it-" Rufus insisted hesitantly.
Emma cut him off with a brief, tight smile. "I can't let you do that, Rufus."
He frowned, unexpectedly moved.
"They can't take you. Ever," Lucy warned, fully aware of the weight behind those words.
"I'll blow myself up before that happens," Emma promised dully.
Lucy stared. She looked for any crack. In fact, she almost hoped there would be a tell, otherwise hell would surely have frozen over. But glaciers abound there must be, for Lucy found that she entirely believed her arch enemy.
"Fine. Good."
"I imagine there's a time limit on their hospitality," Wyatt prodded.
"You're right, we should go..."
Flynn held her arm there as if there was something he wanted to say. The words couldn't make it out of his eyes. That he hated this plan and dreaded leaving her with Emma, let alone with Benjamin Cahill, was obvious. How could they say goodbye knowing they might never say hello again?
"Come back," he finally settled on.
She nodded. "Stay away."
"It's a little late for that, isn't it?"
Lucy smiled at her partner in crime.
His forehead kiss lingered there for a moment. He would not say I love you, the words that Lorena and Iris had last heard, because Lucy would come back, and he would say it then.
She left before he had time to regret it.
---
Lucy heard the wind rolling across the ship before anything else. Emma heard it, too. So did Christopher, the last passenger on the envoy. They did not speak for hearing it. Emma's knuckles were white and shaky on the control panel.
"Lucy, I'd like you to know..." Christopher began. Lucy mustered a smile.
"You don't have to..."
She took one of Lucy's hands in both of her own. They were chill, and a little dry, but comforting.
"You are an incredible woman. I have been in awe of you from before we even ever met. And I don't think I say it enough, Lucy. Your bravery and your brains, your kindness, kept us going. I will do everything I can to support you here. But I believe you can do this. I will follow anything you do."
Lucy felt tears sting behind her eyes. She hid them by yanking Christopher into a hug.
"He doesn't deserve a bit of you. Neither of them did. Maybe if I was a lot... Alright, a little older, I might have been so lucky as to call you my daughter."
Lucy's sob turned into a wet laugh. "I imagine you would have been a very strict mom."
"Alright," she muttered. "Are you ready?"
"No," she admitted.
Emma bashed the button. She was the first to stand and trip on the floors' loose white panelling. Lucy held her breath, hoping she wasn't about to be covered in sick. But Emma opened her eyes and breathed with perfect clarity. The door psshhvv'd open.
There weren't as many people as Amy had said there would be. But with a dozen pairs of eyes on them as they exited the Mothership, it felt like millions. They all stood back to line the gaping gap in the unfinished bridge that overflowed with ominous fog. At the forefront stood Benjamin Cahill in a black suit with an even blacker stare.
The only emotion he showed was mild surprise that Emma was by their side. Like he had expected her blood on their hands.
Then he smiled.
That was the worst part.
Someone she didn't know came to move Emma away from the ship. She flashed a warning look their way. There was to be no games played today, evidently. And no quick escapes...
"Benjamin Cahill," Christopher called evenly over the expanse of bridge that separated them. "Denise Christopher, Homeland Security."
"Yes, I know who you are."
Lucy held her free hand up to safely shorten the distance by some steps. "Let's talk."
"Lucy." He sounded thankful. Calm, even. "Did you like the gift?"
She glanced back at the Mothership. It was blocked by stony-faced, weapon-weilding men. "Why do I get the feeling it was only a loan?"
"I don't mind being generous. As long as we get something in return."
Her gaze doubtfully swept past Emma. "We couldn't have arranged to meet in a café or something?"
Cahill chuckled. Lucy held her elbows tight. She harnessed the driest, most indomitable Flynn-like attitude she possessed.
"Not even trying the old daughterly manipulation thing?"
He had the good wit to look somber. "I am sorry about Carolyn. She didn't represent the ideals and conduct we want to move forward with."
Her demeanor was rattled. Emma appeared equally enraged, though she bit her tongue. The chill, moist air drew her bitter face sallow.
"And this is?" Christopher enquired.
"These times call for drastic measures, unfortunately. I think we can both agree our hands were forced, and move on to a more productive conversation. Firstly, what can I expect from you, Ms Whitmore? Outright betrayal?"
"The only betrayal here is the men who won't follow my orders, the reason why you felt the need to step in. Throw him off -" Emma jerked her head at Hank, positioned like a smug Doberman by his left flank, "and maybe then we can have a... 'productive conversation.'"
Lucy noted and understood the tremble in her knees. He wasn't an easy man to stand up to. Frankly, Emma was looking like a much easier opponent by the second.
"Oh, look," he sighed. The women glanced at eachother. "I'm disappointed."
In her gut, Lucy knew what she would see before she turned around. There were more of them. And more of not them followed out of the fog.
Flynn and Wyatt led the group, hands zip-tied behind their backs, at least six armed escorts between them. Horror mixed with slight satisfaction as Lucy noted there were still not as many as the forty or fifty cronies expected. Several bodies must have been left behind, explaining the blood splatter that joined up the two men.
Flynn caught her desperate eye, and shook his head sullenly. Her heart fell so far it vanished.
"We caught them sneaking into the fort. And the others guarding the ship," a gruff, stout guy called triumphantly. "Like you said."
Connor, Jiya, and Rufus were kicked forward.
Beside them, Amy bit down hard on the closest hand. They ensured they then backed away from her. Jessica gave the man beside her the eyes to show she was absolutely not above doing that too.
Yet Cahill was simply amused. Like he said. Like he'd known. "You thought you could, what, overpower us? Take us by surprise?" He tutted. "No."
Lucy couldn't think fast enough. "You can't do this."
"We can. It's quite simple. The Federal War Department owns the land either side of the bridge. We own The Federal War Department. We own the land. You're the trespassers here. But I don't have to do anything, Lucy. If you cooperate."
"YOU CRAZY OLD BITCH!" Amy resisted her hold to scream at him. She sported a large red mark covering her eye. That would grow a nasty bruise.
Flynn stared him down with an equal amount of simmering malice.
With her family at her back, Lucy's resolve broke down. They would hurt them, or worse. There was no easy paperclip way out. She nodded. "Tell me."
---
Amy couldn't see much from where she was forced to stand, gun to her back. She knew Lucy wasn't happy with whatever was being said to her over there. Even though her sister's face was straight, the way her nostrils were flared and her shoulders rigidly straight gave her rage away.
Emma looked her way. From this far, her freckles blurred together and her eyes blurred with the same hollow grey as the fog. There was nothing left in them. Still, Amy wished she could look away. She watched. She watched as Emma listened to his words. She watched her consider them.
She watched Emma pick her head up and walk across as if she had never even been sick. She took her place at Cahill's right side.
Amy gaped across the divide. There was nothing she could shout or scream that would convey the betrayal that spliced her open.
Perhaps it was something similar to waking up and finding your June was a Preston.
Emma simply looked down at her like she was nothing.
Buzzing filled Amy's ears. It's over! It's done!
Someone grabbed her by her bound arms but she did not feel it.
She was placed near Connor and Jessica, on an expanse of bridge further away from the others, who had never been tinged by Rittenhouse's greed.
Rufus was also grabbed. Jiya wouldn't have it.
"Why are you taking him?" She demanded. Strands of her hair had slipped from its ponytail and fell frantically over her face.
"You didn't complete your pilot training. You don't get to find out."
"I'm as good a pilot as him!"
"Jiya!"
She was turned on like she was a feast for carrion birds. "Is that so?"
Then she was gone, too.
Lucy stood alone. Christopher, Connor, Jessica, and Amy knelt in one faction. Flynn and Wyatt in another. Close to them, Jiya and Rufus faced away from the armed men that loomed over them.
Cahill meticulously adjusted his tie and brushed invisible dust from his jacket before he addressed the carefully divided team.
"I am not merciless. You can all be useful. In separate countries. Garcia Flynn and Wyatt Logan, you could be back at the top of your games. Maybe even working together?"
They looked at eachother and turned equal glares onto Benjamin. "We'd rather die."
"The time for fighting is over. We could raise an army. You at the helm. You don't even have to remember... Well, any of this."
"Does this routine really work?"
"You choose. Rufus," he turned on him with a smile that made him visibly shrink. "How's your brother? I hear he's been offered a full ride scholarship."
"He's what?" Rufus asked in momentary awe.
"I wonder who pulled those strings."
"You can't buy us," Amy called over him. With difficulty, she rose to her feet.
Hank tried to tell her to kneel. She kept putting one foot in front of the other.
"I don't kneel when I'm talking to someone."
Cahill watched her with interest as she arrived within a few feet. She knew to play him. She knew he would think that perhaps Carol and Emma would sway her just enough. She played on that. Amy had always been the louder, more troublesome sister. This superpower would buy Lucy time to think.
"Did you ever visit her?" She asked. "When she was sick?"
The bridge stopped breathing. He looked but did not answer.
"Did you even know she was sick?"
He gave the smallest, derisive nod.
"Did you know how?"
An involuntary muscle flexed in his temple. "No."
"But you're a family man." She chuckled coldly. "She told me once I drove her to it. But really, it was when she met our dad. She loved him so much it killed her. Literally.
I don't know if he knew about this. I hope he didn't have to. He was a good man. Not like you. I gotta say, man, I really expected... More. You're not even impressive. You're not that smart, and you're not that tall. You're not even scary like you think you are. You were just born into money, and you used it to act like you were God's gift to the world."
"Amy," her sister warned quietly.
Amy didn't listen. Her filter was gone, if Amy had ever possessed such an arbitrary thing.
"I hope you die alone and lost to time like she did, you fucking asshole. I hope I get to see it today."
He nodded at Hank, and suddenly there was a fist flying at her middle. It nearly knocked her off her feet, certainly it winded her. Another at her head. Another one, so fast it couldn't be one person anymore. A boot to the back of her leg and she crumbled, screaming. When she sheilded her face, the pain only moved to her stomach.
"Stop it!" Lucy screamed. "Stop! Please!"
"Stop it," Emma repeated quietly, a quiver in her voice.
Amy sustained another boot to her stomach before he held his hand up. They left Amy alone, quivering on the ground. When she was wrenched onto her knees her face was bloody.
This, it warned. This is what will happen.
Yet Emma hurried them away, and pulled her up by her armpits. She half dragged her hateful lover to Flynn's feet before discarding her and retreating, last act of loyalty left seemingly completed.
They allowed Flynn to cradle her. Blood smeared on his knees and his shirt. While his arms were gentle, his expression was wrath.
Emma was pale. Lucy was ready to do whatever.
Through her blurred vision, Amy saw the Mothership door open, and the two women, each guarded, step inside. It warped, popped, and vanished.
She rolled from Flynn's arms onto the cold ground. She stayed there as blood mixed with spittle leaked from her mouth. Wind hummed through the steel towers.
"We're dead."
"Stop talking!" An order barked.
"No, we're not," Wyatt ignored it firmly.
Flynn slowly, slowly nodded, looking at something Jiya was fiddling with on her leg. "I'll find her, wherever she is."
"Whenever."
"When fucking ever, Wyatt, thanks, yeah."
"Shut up!"
---
"Does your mother know?! Doobadoobadoobadedoo! Brow brow brow brow wowwww-"
A hand twisted the sound dial down on a car radio. It came up to adjust the mirror. It framed a pair of sharp brown eyes lit by the soft glow of the car's headlights.
"Hi, mom."
Lucy cleared her throat and pulled on a smile. "Hi, mom. No. Hello, mom.
Agh. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do it. I can do it. Amy would do it. I would fucking do it. Yeah!" She drummed on the steering wheel.
"Hi mom, your hair looks nice today. Anyway, I'm dropping out of college, sorry. Goodnight!"
She smacked herself in the forehead. A little bit of slightly too orange foundation probably came off with it.
"Phew. Okay. Not sorry. Not sorry. Hi mom. I'm dropping out of college. Sorry. No! Hrrnn."
Lucy turned the radio back up with a grimace. Too preoccupied to care, she thought nothing of the slight radio glitch, or the distant spark reflected in her wing mirror.
"Ah!"
All of a sudden, Lucy's steering drastically pulled to one side. Her tires span out of control.
The car plowed through the reeds by the side of the road. Her hands flew up to her face as if that would protect her.
At least they blocked the glare of the headlights from the deep, deep water of the lake.
---
•
Teasers for The Halfway to Hell Club (3)
•
"Take those sons of bitches down with you."