Night Terror (laying on his belly) yanks out his wire gun and fires at the bus. The weapon’s grappling hook nails Gemini square in the gut. His body goes limp, releasing Relay from his grip. She drops onto the bus, looking up just in time to witness Gemini stumble backwards and tumble off the back […]
But Wayfarer pays the price for his dedication, as a quarter-sized stone bangs off his head. He immediately falls to his knees while clutching his bloody skull. Night Terror is suddenly moving again in real-time. Swinging at the spot where Wayfarer no longer stands, Night Terror trips over him instead to land on the ground
Nobody – his petrified arm keeping him pinned on the ground – reshapes his good arm into a half dome for some protection. He winces as the flaming rocks ricochet off his fleshy shield.
The voice gone from his ear, Trigger rests his back against the 40th story glass and gazes peacefully out across the Manhattan skyline.
Trigger can only watch what he assumes to be a momentary death. Then metal wings miraculously hatch from Clarity’s back, and she awkwardly (at first) curves up and then away. Mesmerized, he watches even after she is no longer in sight. Only the whoosh of the closing glass panels above him breaks his stare. With
Trigger is covered – head-to-toe – in a reflective body suit that camouflages him from any randoms casually peering across from an adjacent skyscraper. He nonchalantly holds himself onto the building with just the touch of one hand’s fingertips, the bump of two ass cheeks and the balls of two feet. He keeps his other
Oddly calm, Adam watches until she is but a speck on the horizon. Only when a loose chunk of tarp blows past his head and out into the atmosphere, does his anxiety rush back to find him. He scurries backwards away from the opening, until his butt bumps up against the near empty saw-horses. The
Bernadette – or rather now Clarity – veers right just in time to avoid colliding with the neighboring skyscraper. She banks a hard left and soars majestically down Madison Avenue, high above its unsuspecting citizens.
Without another word, Bernadette swan dives out the open panel. Adam rushes over so quickly that he must grab the glass panel edges to stop himself from following her out. He looks down to see Bernadette dropping like a rock. But then, with just 10 stories left, her metallic wings pop out and take shape
Bernadette flips a switch dangling near her head. Two glass panels on the building’s outer wall slide apart. The high winds of Manhattan gust into the 41st floor – blowing tarps, trash, and a lacy bra (among other things) around the open space. Adam leaps forward, grabbing the jungle woman’s photo off the work bench
