A World Made of Glass: Chapter 7: Rally Around

The Chief woke us up early. We were all outside, standing around the large two story cabin that he made his personal abode. And up front was the large blue steamer chest that was reserved for any loot we found.

Everyone was some kind of groggy; Pharrel couldn’t keep his head up, eyes flickering desperately to remain conscious. While Ina’s fur was all frizzy and her whiskers were bent.

Unlike last night Katarina was with us.

Kind of like me she disliked getting inebriated, Pharrel theorized that liquor might be too much for her. She was from the European Isles, moderately short blonde hair that she had in a messy bun, wearing a light blue button down shirt with brown pants. She usually wore an ancestral mask while on jobs in order to hide her identity like the rest of us. Except when I offered to make modifications to it she turned me down. She was almost offended by the idea anyone would touch her precious mask. I mistook it for a tool when it obviously meant more than that and I felt bad.

“He sure does take his precious time, doesn’t he?” Khan asked to noone in particular.

Katarina answered, “Have you considered not being a drunk idiot?”

His face contorted angrily within itself, his skin dried up, “Shut up, princess.” he snarled.

“Touchy subject” she shrugged.

“She's right, you act like you have nine livers like Ina!”, I joked.

“Say one more thing to me Walt and I’ll bury you.” Khan's face looked like his threat, blood red either from the morning sun beating down or his impudent rage.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, that comment was enough to tell us that Khan wasn’t even in the mood for jokes. The big three were still inside the cabin doing who knows what. They got upset with us if we moved on to other things before they gave their daily spiel, and we’d make it more bearable by shooting the shit, only at the time I was afraid Khan was going to lose his shit. Not even the lively chirping of the forest or the pleasant breeze that blew in from the eastern coast was going to be enough to cool off that furnace of a man.

“I just don’t get it… why do we need to listen to those… has-beens.” There went Isaiah, slithering his way into trouble. He loved to talk and to hear the sound of his raspy voice.

Ina bared her fangs, hissing in outrage, “What did you say, snake?”

The cat girl had a similar upbringing to me in the Apostates. She was brought in even younger than I was, eight years old, with Claudia and Chief being mostly responsible for her upbringing.

“You heard me, pussy cat.” he chuckled dryly as he lazily twirled his revolvers in each hand.

I asked him, “Care to elaborate?”

“All I’m saying is that maybe we need new blood in the old guard.” he winked at me. Ignoring the blatant disrespect, it would have been charming if it came from any other person.

Surprisingly, Khan’s temper simmered into a mild grumpiness, as he said to Isaiah, “Oh yeah? I bet you imagine yourself as the next best thing.”

Khan was stupid. Like really stupid. But he was the kind of stupid that liked to dream a lot. Or more like he believes in every thought in his head and instead of reflecting he does. He’s a man of action, which is what Chief loves the most.

“Well obviously I ain’t talkin’ about Walter. He nearly fumbled the heist cause he couldn’t control the stiffy he had for that cape." he said with as much slyness as a sun-burnt tortoise. I supposed he had somewhat of a point, half of the bank did split in half. The half that fell into the ocean could have had the payday we so desperately wanted.

“Gross.” said Kata under her breath, “I don’t want to think of Walter’s dick.”

Pharrel stood to my defense, fighting off his oppressive hangover, speech still slurred but not unintelligible, “Hop off his dick!”

Ina growled, “Not even been with us for a year and you act like you’re the boss,”

“I’m not starting shit for no reason, pussy cat! We shouldn’t let in the likes of rat-boy on raids if he isn’t going to pull his own weight. The fact that those three even allowed it is telling of an entirely different issue.”

“You have no idea of what you speak of you smelly bastard, and I recommend you silence your mouth before I turn you into something even uglier!” Ina said maliciously as her typically feline eyes morphed into a deep black.

Evidently Ina’s tail had a mind of its own at times, and depending on her mood it moved unpredictably. During that argument it must have been grazing Khan’s back a bit too much for his liking.

Like a hot kettle, Khan bellowed, “For the love of GODSPEED, I’m gonna CHOP that tail off if it keeps acting up, Ina!”

The already enraged cat girl had spun around to face Khan, the fur on the back of her neck rose as she told him, “Stop interrupting me, you alcoholic fuck!”

And in that moment, Kata formed a ball of snow in her hand and slapped it down Khan’s back. He yelped like a little girl, flailing his arms around at the out-of-season prank dripping down his backside. The uncharacteristic noise that Khan made in comparison to his strong mountain man physique was enough to get a rise out of all of us. We were all standing around the embarrassed man laughing at his minor misfortune, not caring of the small rough scales that started to pierce through his skin.

He had enough, his entire body was suddenly covered in rough armored plating. Fish scales of brutality and stubbornness made him look jagged and wild like a thorny boulder. He called out to Ina and challenged her to a duel of all things. Khan hated anyone who was bigger and stronger than him and even though Ina was not big she was definitely stronger. He would have ended up embarrassing himself even more.

We all made space for them, as they took twenty paces away from each other. Suddenly little Ronnie came running out of a bush, the curly mop of hair on her head bounced in anticipation, surely eavesdropping on our argument and yelled with much joy and excitement. Too much in fact, Kata shushed her immediately.

The cat and the boulder were having a good old-fashioned face-off. Out west there was less law so more people did them. And not just people with guns or swords but quasi too. It was a little barbaric for my liking, but Andre said to me that sometimes humans need to kill each other to feel better. I asked him why, since it sounded ridiculous and he said that's just what he saw.

After waiting for so long for either of them to make a move, Andre finally burst open through the cabin's front door, and with a voice that made your skeleton shiver he said, “Stop fighting little un’s, the Chief is ready to speak!”

We all snapped to attention, lining up in a single file line. Whatever poisonous spell Ina was about to utter from her lips ended in thought and the stubborn armor crawled underneath Khan’s thin skin.

Following Andre was Claudia, holding her top hat close to her chest, an expression of uncertainty was plastered on her painted face. I had half the desire to ask what she was thinking about, until I heard,

JINGLE

JANGLE

JINGLE

JANGLE

I wonder what funny words we’d be subjected to today. He was the greatest man we all knew. When he spoke, you believed him.

And after a few proud and loud steps, there he was standing before us: The Chief

“Ladies and gentlemen! What a beautiful day we have ahead of us, right?”, with a bright smile and taking big puffs out of his cigar he walked down our line with his hands on his gun belt, red velvet vest glistening in the morning sun, “Makes you proud of being an American. A true American.”

Andre and Claudia stood back and remained quiet as he continued on, us junior guns did the same, like pawns on a chess board.

“We are the last line of defense, in a world that has forgotten its spirit in the debilitating deception of industry and laws. What good is being blessed with our special gifts, us quasi, if we are colonized? The people of New Geweld… they’re trapped… like a hamster on a wheel trying to catch its chuck cheese. How can one dream of a better life if you are so busy trying to survive?”

In the middle of his speech he stopped right in front of me, pulled out his cigar and laid a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly. His face was gently unexpressive, you couldn’t see a drop of anger, despair, happiness, or desire. His dark brown eyes told a different story however, one that was long and part of a small ember in the fire that burned within. It was scary but knowing Chief meant we were set.

Then he said with as much force as a hurricane yet an inch above a whisper, “We do more than survival. We live. And by Godspeed we will win!”

After his morning sermon, he discussed more practical matters. He gave orders to each of us, detailing the general goals we should work to accomplish. Claudia also reminded us to not forget to donate whatever cash or valuables we found to the loot chest.

Then Andre said, “And don’t forget to find some food for Nando to cook. Nothing spoiled and it has to be edible ....” while obviously looking at Isaiah and Pharrel with squinted eyes, the latter seemed ashamed of his past silly mistake while the former spat a lump of phlegm on the ground.

“Now, one more thing before I set y’all free. Walter… do you have something you want to share?”

Oh boy.

I stammered a bit, absentmindedly rubbing at my nub, it didn’t help that I knew the boys were looking at me.

“So… uh. I… what did I want to share?” I asked, I felt a sudden hotness on my face and it wasn’t from Pharrell's flames.

“What you told Andre last night, apparently.” said Claudia with one eyebrow raised.

“Well… why do I have to say it?”

Andre grumbled in irritation, “Come on Walt just open up about it! It was your idea.”

Then Ina jumped up smiling brightly, tonally whiplashing all of us and said “If it makes you feel any better, Walt, I read your mind so I already know.”

“What?!” I said, now I was really gripping my nub as if I’d lose the rest of my arm.

I shouldn’t have hesitated in the first place, Kata was barely holding in a snicker and Isaiah enjoyed seeing me suffer.

Until the Chief looked at me with a soft expression, “It’s ok son, you should not feel ashamed for sharing your ideas. We are a family, you know that?”

The Apostates took me in when no one else did. I’d still be rummaging through dumpsters and abandoned warehouses if it wasn’t for Chief stumbling into my life, I’d probably be worse off. If they didn’t have my side, no one else did.

I relented, and with a sigh I said, “I think we should work with Power-Jack.”

Henry, who we thought was taking his typical morning nap, cried out all the way on the other side of camp, “The fuck you mean by that, boy!?” followed by a bellowing laughter that could be heard all the way to the city if the old man wanted to be any louder.

Isaiah and Kata exclaimed in surprise and began to berate me while Khan muttered, “And I thought I was the fool.”

Breaking from the line, Isaiah walked up to me “Ain’t you supposed to be a mad scientist genius or something? Or maybe working with all that cauca finally drove you mad? Which is it?!” he was sticking his finger at my chest, poking at me.

The worst part about having Isaiah so close to you was that he had a unique aroma to him. Like unhatched eggs that were left out in the sun for too long and no one ever bothered to eat them. It was enough to make you gag, absolutely traumatizing. But what’s strange is sometimes he didn’t smell like anything at all. Claudia once told me his stink was strong enough to rub off on you if you weren’t careful.

I stared at his finger each time he kept poking, and the more he did it the more I wanted to bite it clean off. Maybe that was why he didn’t get close to people.

However, Chief stopped his tirade, firmly telling Isaiah to get back in line.

He tilted his head downwards in shame, as if he had any to begin with, “Sorry boss… I’m… worried is all. You know Superheroes are bad business.”

“Nonsense, my boy, there ain’t nothing to be worried about as long as we have each other. Only the feeblest of us do the government's dirty work and we are mighty.”

Isaiah swaggered back to his spot and everyone calmed down. Our leader then began to entertain my idea and asked everyone individually what they thought about making an alliance with the lone Superhero. It was mixed for the most part, leaning more towards mild dislike.

Kata said, “Sounds like a stupid idea, respectfully.”

Henry, who finally managed to get off the ground and waddled his way to us said, “Respectfully, I have to agree. You’re smarter than that, Walt.”

Khan pitched in quite angrily, “Superheroes are nothing but whores and mercenaries. A betrayal waiting to happen.”

Ina then said, “Oh come on guys. During the bank heist I sensed Power-Jack’s vibe while she fought Walt, I think it's worth a shot!

My brow arched downwards, “You knew she was fighting me?” I was partially glad the cat girl took my side during all this while simultaneously wondering why she did nothing to help me back then.

“You read her mind?” asked Kata.

She hummed in thought and tapped a clawed finger on her chin, definitely trying to give an explanation to non-psychics, “No… I sensed her energy. She lacked the unpleasantness capes usually carry.”

It was unpleasant when she was beating me up, but fortunately I could look past that and trust in my hunch and Inamorata’s mystical perception. Power-Jack was special, and I had to find out why.

Pharrel finally said in an awkward and almost forced manner, “It's not the… worst… idea we’ve ever had.”

I then looked at Claudia, her hands behind her back, and asked what she thought of it.

“I see the potential for success, our biggest weakness is our inability to make friends and adapt,” she side-eyed Chief as he pretended not to care, “But there is also the possibility of great failure.”

She looked apologetic as she said, “I’ll do as Chief says… there are too many variables when it comes to Superheroes.”

“Damn it.” I thought, “why do I even bother?”

Convincing everyone about the bank heist was nearly as impossible as this. I constantly pestered the big three just to even consider the score. Since that museum fiasco with Isaiah, Andre absolutely did not want me out on the field with anyone because of it. He tore into Isaiah for his lack of sincerity and if it weren’t for Chief and Claudia being diplomatic he might have done so literally. Claudia was glad I was alive and satisfied that we made it out with a few valuables. Some of the artifacts we stole even belonged to her tribe and took them for herself much to Isaiah’s annoyance. However the sheer… amount… of pigs we slaughtered didn’t sit well with her. She looked at me differently, or at least I felt something change between us.

But Chief? There was a twinkle in his eyes, he looked at me like I was a million dollars. He said that I was brave and the sorry excuses for men I killed deserved it.

He was right.

Chief took one big drag out of his cigar and let out a smokestack of thought through his mouth. He looked beyond us and the camp and towards the city. If there was anyone that would see us through to tomorrow it would be him. He was not a powerful quasi, but he was a great man. The greatest man we could ever know. The way he dressed was a slight form of mockery. He was well-kept and gentlemanly, had good manners and one hell of a charmer. But he wasn’t afraid of making the tough calls or roll around in the dirt with the rest of us.

Chief was a butcher and we ate well with him.

He said to me, “I see the vision, Walt. You are correct, the Apostates have stood alone for far too long. But placing our chances on an enigmatic up-start is not the way to go. Definitely not this far east. Regardless, your input is appreciated.”

I asked Andre what he thought of my idea for real, desperate to find anyone that could challenge everyone. People listened to Andre for a reason; he wasn’t a public speaker like Chief nor was he cool-headed like Claudia but he commanded respect, and he was smarter than he let on. He could have been the one to change things. He wasn’t afraid of anything.

Instead he couldn’t bear to even face me as he said, “The Chief’s wishes are my command.”

I felt so strange. An emotion I could not place a word to, a feeling that has stuck with me since I could remember. Gnawing at my core like a memento in the shape of a festering tumor. Once again I am the little boy sleeping inside a garbage can.

They let us go finally, everyone going on their separate ways to see about their errands. I had half a mind to go speak to Andre but he left without making a sound, maybe he had something secret and important to do, or maybe he went to sulk. Chief wanted me and Isaiah to go investigate the manufactorum in Vino Heights. He said we worked well together and that we should think about training with each other more.

Like hell I was.

Claudia was less than pleased at the order he gave us. But instead of protesting she just walked past, grabbing hold of Ina, and saying the two of them had a job to do. Pharrel and Khan were sent to go investigate New Geweld further, ask questions and try to get a feel of the criminal element. Above all: anyone going into New Geweld would have to be aware of how strong the AVIA’s presence has grown since the heist and to avoid Superheroes at all cost.

I felt as though that last part was directed at me.

Before I went with Isaiah in his rusty car, I decided to go back to my cabin. I needed my stuff, and also wanted to fix up a new arm.

I told him this, and he responded by spitting at the ground and saying, “Take too long and I’ll leave you, One-arm.”

I went inside my cabin, putting on my armor and black overcoat on top. Buckling up my gun belt and adjusting the holster I look to the table next to my bed. On it was my RatKing mask and glaz-gun; two items I stole from the museum.

The glaz-gun was an old Borchardt C93 pistol, over four centuries old and still in phenomenal condition. Of course sometimes to make something new you needed to take from something old. I stuck a shard of cauca inside a siphon canister to the back end of the bolt, giving the weapon a heavy behind in comparison to its skinny tube-like barrel. The single shard would be enough to power its shots forever. Laser lights powered by cauca energy were ruthless, and a dial on the side of the frame allowed you to either increase or decrease the intensity of the light.

The mask was something even more peculiar but still beautiful.

I wore it as I fought against the police assault, and during that I found out its maker was a genius. As a hailstorm of burning-hot lead poured down on me, one little bullet managed to strike me right between the eyes and I kept on shooting as if it was but a drop of water. It called to me when I first laid eyes on its exhibit, an enticing form that I could never hope to have resisted. It was so bad I didn’t have enough time or the patience to read its origins, but you could tell it was definitely tribal in origin. Primitive and Innovative. The only modification I did was add the rat-vision interactive lenses that glowed red, which were also powered by cauca. With it, I could see through walls, read vital signs, and other handy options.

I grabbed my busted up arm and went out to the tent posted behind the cabin. There I tinkered on my inventions and whatnot. One day I hoped that I’d have a more impressive workshop space, preferably one with four walls and a roof, although I once asked Ina and Claudia if it was possible to make a deployable one of my liking with their witchcraft. They said it was impossible, which I used to not believe. With cauca, anything could be possible. Your imagination was the only thing that held you back.

I hammered away at the frame, buffing out the dents, taking out ruined screws and old pieces of metal. Inside the forearm was a small box containing the electronics needed to summon Gutterwing with the press of a button. I pressed it, and a tarp beside me slowly rose up as engines hummed. I ripped out the box and threw it into the pile of junk I had mounting in the corner of the tent.

I didn’t need to just repair it, no.

If I wanted to fight in my family's war I needed to adapt.

That is the only way to live. If you reject change you will fall behind, and I was already used to that. I would not just sit back and watch the world get the better of me.

Isaiah was going to have to wait.