Andy

Lost in Transit

“I thought you said this was going to be an easy job!” Minerva shouted at Liam over the cacophony of machine gun fire that dominated the night at the Titan City docks.

“Aye, ’twas supposed to be! Damn Ruskies musta got wind that me old crew was expecting a shipment tonight and decided ’twas theirs for the taking.” Liam said, glancing over the large crate that was providing the two of them cover. He jerked back quickly as a stray bullet tore through the top half, chewing on his cigar like a nervous tic. “Last time I trust James when he comes to me with a tip, boyo must be playing all sides of this to his own benefit. Whatever’s in that shipping container must be really important.”

Minerva shook her head. “It’s not what, it’s who, Liam. The Kelly Gang and the Russians have been escalating their little arms race lately, using their contacts in Europe to ‘help’ monsters make their way to Titan City, promising a better life, only to enslave them when they get here for their own purposes. Every shipment of these we stop helps those just looking for that better life.”

Liam adjusted the lapels of his suit, then gave her a knowing grin. “Aye, and that’s just what we’re gonna give ’em, once we get ’em out of here.” He looked down at his Tommy Gun, then back to her. “The usual?”

Popping her head up to survey the scene at the docks one more time to take note of the gangs’ positions, Minerva turned her head towards him and nodded. “Long as you’re sure your luck will hold out.”

Liam gave her a short laugh. “Y’know better ‘en I that even if luck were to run out, we’d still need to get this done, and we would.” He reached down and hefted his Tommy Gun to his shoulder, then took a big drag on his cigar, exhaling the smoke out. It coalesced around him, wrapping him in a dark gray cloud that seemed somehow less permeable than it let on. “On three?”

Getting her hands under the bottom of the crate next to the one providing them cover, Minerva nodded back towards Liam, tensing her body as she readied to heave the box into the middle of the firefight.

“THREE!”

The crate launched effortlessly into the air, powered by Minerva’s inhuman strength. It reached its apex, smashing into the crane towering over the docks, raining debris down upon both gangs. They stopped firing, scattering towards cover from the aerial assault. Night fell mostly silent around the docks, the staccato of multitudes of firearms traded in for one, as Liam stepped out from behind the crate. He took another drag on his cigar and smiled wide, raking his Tommy Gun back and forth towards both his former allies and their rivals.

Smoke roiled around him, enshrouding his form in a nebulous aura. As the gangs recovered from their initial shock and found cover where they could, they turned their attention towards him. Once again the night was filled with the clamor of gun fire. Liam disappeared into the maelstrom of bullets that tore through the night, his Tommy Gun barking out rounds of deadly fire.

Minerva’s sprint had already begun across the docks before Liam started his assault, her course heading straight towards the gangs’ intended prize. She reached the container just as the mobs turned their attention towards his distraction. Noting the lock, she ripped it and the attached chain off, then swung the door open just enough for her to step inside. She could feel the humidity in the air and took a quick breath. The air was fetid, but not from rot or decay; moreso the press of unwashed bodies kept in close proximity to one another. “I’m not here to hurt you.” she said, the magic inside her translating her words to the native tongue of whoever had called this cage home for the last few months. “I need to turn on a light before I get you out of here. Don’t be alarmed.” Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small stone that flared to life, bathing the area in a dim, almost ghostly light. Various faces stared back at her; green, gold and red scaled, slit pupils in their large eyes, shying away from this human who’d just entered their midst, unsure how she could speak their tongue. They looked vaguely like Naga, except their coloration was more vibrant.

“I know you don’t have any reason to trust me,” Minerva said, addressing everyone inside the container “But I can get you out of here, to the life you all came here for. You might have been led here by a falsehood, but if you come with me my friends and I can get you somewhere safe, somewhere where the men outside can’t get to you.” Her voice was steady and firm, her posture confident and sure. With her persuasive nature on full display, she saw an older male look at her and nod curtly, accepting her words as truth. The others took notice of this and nodded towards her as well.

Smiling, she worked her way to the back of the crate, to the curiosity of those gathered. Reaching the back of the crate, she jabbed a hand into the metal and wrenched it back like a can opener, the metal screeching as it contorted out of shape. Stepping through, Minerva motioned for the rest to follow her, and pointed towards a boat loosely moored at the dock. “My friends are on that boat and will help you get out of here, get you somewhere safe. Go, quickly.”

The elder nodded to her. “Thank you for your kindness.” he said, his voice low and melodic, with a hint of a lisp from the long tongue that slipped from his lips as he pronounced the s. Motioning for the rest of the group to follow him, he then took off across the dock in the direction Minerva indicated.

Minerva kept watch as the refugees streamed out of the container and towards the boat. She saw Eric and Sarina pop out from their hiding spots as the first of the group made it; Sarina hurrying them onto the boat while Eric got the motor going. A cry from behind her caught her attention; she spun, seeing a male helping a female stand up after stumbling, almost falling. She seemed to be clutching a large bundle tightly to her chest, desperately trying to keep it from slipping out of her grasp but failing. Minerva rushed over to help, kneeling down to catch it before it could hit the ground. It was then she noticed it was an egg, bound in soft fabrics. The female glared at her, hate seeming to cloud her vision before the gold scales around her eyes softened. “Thank you.” she said, as the male finished pulling her up to her feet, before they both recoiled slightly.

The steel barrel of a pistol pressed into the back of Minerva’s head, causing her to freeze. “That doesn’t belong to you,” the figure at the other end of the pistol said. “None of ’em do. Now stand up, nice ‘en slow, and hand the egg over like a good lass.” Minerva stood, slowly, keeping the egg cradled to her chest. She looked at the couple, portraying confidence, before turning around towards her assailant.

The man looked to be in his late 20s and solidly built. The fedora on his head and the lack of much ambient light kept Minerva from seeing his eyes, but she saw the leering grin on his face. “Looks like the rumors were true; little vixen running around the city helping out the monsters. Hand over the egg, and the rest of our property, and I might be inclined to let you go.” he said, keeping the gun pointed at her head.

“I highly doubt your boss would approve of that.” Minerva said, her eyes scanning the crates behind him, checking for Liam, but she only saw a couple of wounded Kelly Gang members making their way to their boss.

“Surely right, but as long as I get what the boss wants, he doesn’t need to know. Can’t have him knowing me and the boys weren’t able to protect his shipment from a couple would-be ‘heroes’.” The man sneered and looked back towards his men. “Now, the egg, and be quick about it. Then the boys and I take the rest of ’em, and you get to live. Any funny business, and, well, you don’t.”

Minerva sighed, forcing the air out of nonexistent lungs, and slowly made to hand the egg over. At that moment, she saw a cloud of smoke appear on one of the crates. “Craddoc, you bastard!” Liam shouted, firing his Tommy Gun at the feet of the three Kelly Gang members. As the gunman, Craddoc, Minerva assumed, turned to get a look at this new assailant, she quickly tucked the egg under her left arm and swung a haymaker with her right. Her fist connected with Craddoc’s jaw, the inhuman strength sending him flying backwards towards Liam’s location. The other Kelly Gang members ran for cover, leaving Minerva free to escape. She grabbed the female’s hand and took off, pulling the pair towards the boat.

As they reached the boat, Minerva handed the egg back to the female, who grasped it tightly. The male embraced her and the egg, then looked towards the boat. Sarina reached out a hand to help the pair onto the boat, then helped Minerva on, as she was looking back towards the firefight, which had died down considerably. “He’ll be along.” she said, before reaching out to hold Minerva’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Sure enough, a flare of a match soon caught Minerva’s eye, and Liam stepped out of the smoke, raising a new cigar to his lips. He eyed her with a look. “What, didn’t think I’d make it ou’ a that lil’ scrape?”

Minerva smiled and offered him her hand. “Didn’t doubt it for a second, Lucky Liam.”

The din of Club Tartarus could barely be heard behind the heavy oak door that led to Minerva Vantner’s office; a heavy drumbeat accompanied by the amplified sounds of guitar strings being strummed, the vocalist almost screaming the song’s lyrics. Tonight’s lead singer was female, she could tell, though what future she came from that made her so angry, Minerva didn’t know. To tell the truth, she could feel some of herself, her old self at least, in the angry harmonics, yearning for something more than what she was given.

She sat behind her desk, her outbox full of papers and manila folders, the inbox much the same. Pictures of monsters living in Titan City poked out of some of them, offering a brief look at the work she had taken on. For now though, her eyes slipped back to the blank slip of paper in front of her, the ink pen set next to it. Through force of will, she huffed out a sigh, not actually needing the breath of air she’d taken to make it. Picking up the pen again, she began to write, fervently at first, almost in time with the drum beat coming from the club proper, the page filling up with ink made of emotions and memories. Suddenly she paused, the pen quivering in her fingers as though continuing would condemn her very soul to some horrific fate based on the words she had written if she finished her thoughts. In frustration she threw the pen across the room, the point sticking into the wooden door frame like a dart, and crumpled the paper into a ball inside her hands. Hands that were suddenly much larger and less human looking than before, the clay of her golem skin becoming more pronounced as she lost her temper. She tossed the wad over to her waste bin, and it bounced out as it landed on a mountain of other similar ink stained lumps of paper, her arms now trembling as she fought to regain control of her form.

A deft knock at the door and the slight rustling of the blinds on it were all the notice she got before Sarina stood in front of her desk, two drinks held in her right hand. She stared down at Minerva, her indigo eyes highlighted by the fierce makeup she wore this evening, a slight smirk on her ruby lips, hinting at the fangs concealed within. Her outfit accentuated her pale skin; an emerald green silk blouse with the top few buttons undone, a loose skinny black tie draped around the collar, the knot sitting just below her clavicle, and a pair of dark work slacks that clung tightly to her hips. “Eric thought you might need one of these,” she said, placing the drink on the desk in front of her, her hand brushing the envelope as she pulled it back, lifting her own drink to her lips with the other.

“I thought you were still working your shift,” Minerva said, eyeing the drink as she tried to will her arms and hands back into her preferred form.

“I am,” Sarina answered, her eyes never leaving Minerva’s. “Eric told me to take my break, then handed these to me and gestured up here. We haven’t seen you out among the patrons for days; I think he misses seeing you out there. I know I do.”

Again Minerva forced the air through non-existent lungs in a sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s just, we’ve had a lot of new people wanting to get registered within the city, monsters willing to live among the humans, or at least, to try to. I’m trying to do my best to help all of them get the best start. There’s enough fear and hatred out there that any help they get could be crucial to their well being.”

Sarina shook her head, her black curls gleaming purple in the office lights. “Dear heart, that’s not the only reason you’ve locked yourself up in here. You haven’t finished the letter to your family yet, have you?”

Her shoulders slumped reflexively, and Minerva reached for the drink, arms still shaking just a bit. “No, it’s been more… challenging than I thought.” She gestured at the waste bin with the hand holding her drink, then pulled it back and took a sip, wincing at the bite of it.

Making her way around the mahogany desk, Sarina put her hand over Minerva’s as she sat on the desktop. “I can see that. Anything I can help with?”

Minerva flipped her covered hand so she could hold hers, then gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know. I’m torn; how do I tell them I’m not really dead, that I’ve been alive, in a sense, since that night, just different from before? And is it right for me to do so now, after all this time has passed and they’ve moved on? They’ve dealt with their grief and feelings of loss, and been able to move forward with their lives. Would it be better to just let them believe what has been their reality, rather than selfishly pierce that veil?”

A loving smile graced Sarina’s lips as she squeezed Minerva’s hand back. “Dear heart, I think you’re allowed selfish desires from time to time. It’s what makes us human. Well, not human, but human? You know what I mean.” She glanced at the mountain of wadded up paper in the waste bin, and grabbed a fresh sheet from her desk before producing the ink pen Minerva had darted into the doorframe with a flourish. “I think what you need is to get your feelings out, to write down all the words you want to say to them, all the things you love and miss about them. Once you do, you’ll know whether or not it’s best to send this or just frame it to remind you of them. But not now. Now, you are accompanying me down to the floor before my break is over. It’s my turn to be selfish, and I would like a dance with you this evening. And I’m not taking no for an answer.” she said as she slid off the desk and onto Minerva’s lap, causing her to blush.

“I think that’s fair,” Minerva answered back, leaning in for a kiss before helping Sarina off her lap. “A little change of scenery might help me figure out just what it is I’m trying to say.”

Sarina led the way, opening the door and letting the sounds of Club Tartarus be heard a bit more clearly. The band had shifted away from their heavier tone of earlier, opting to instead play something a little more relaxed, a song not so much about loss but about love. And as the two women made their way down to the dance floor, the wad of paper last flung towards the waste bin was enveloped in a purple glow, and moved back down onto the desk, no wrinkles or creases to be found on it. In a dark corner booth, a man surrounded by historical figures touched the bridge of his sunglasses. “I believe you were very close with this, Minerva. Let’s give you a second look at it,” Mr. Powers thought to himself, before turning to answer a question of one of his guests.