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"Oh, for the love of Pete, why did I let you talk me into this?" Ted Grant sticks his hands in his pockets, looking up at the great imposing structure before him. "Eight months I been here, and I've managed to avoid this place."
"Oh, come on, Ted, it's not that bad. Sooner or later, everyone winds up here. I don't see what the big deal is."
"Hell, you grew up with these things, Benny. I'd rather go fifteen with Tyson than go in one of these joints!"
"Look, you know what Toby said. It's the only way to satisfy Abby."
"Yeah, yeah, but I'd like to know why the only place that sells Hummell figurines in this blasted city has to be in the Carousel Center Mall!"
As they enter the multi-leveled mall, the crowd pushes and surges around them, Ted and Benny make their way from the entrance to the center court where the elevators wait. Four lifts, all with crowds gathered to wait for them to reach the main level. Ted looks around and spies an escalator leading up to the next level. "Let's take the express route, bud," he says, nodding his head toward it. "The sooner I get this done with, the better."
"Umm, did I mention, Ted, that I've got a few stops to make while we're here?" Benny hangs back a bit in the crowd.
"Brother. Great, Benny. Just great."
Down on the basement level, four youths are clustered together at the back of the Old Navy store. "You good to go, Jimmy?" asks the smallest, a girl with dirty black hair and dirty black jeans and t-shirt.
"Yeah, just be more careful, Cassie. Remember, the donut boys nabbed you the last time!" Jimmy is tall and skinny, with pale skin and red hair. Knobby knees are just visible under the bottom edge of ragged nylon shorts. "And when we're in there, call me Grasp."
"Billy says he can distract them, didn't you?" She looks toward the dark-skinned young man standing with his hands jammed in his pockets.
"Shouldn't be a problem." He pulls one hand out and runs his fingers over the figures that hang on a woven leather necklace he wears. "And it's William, not Billy."
"Chill out, okay?" says the fourth, an tall, attractive blonde. "Cassie here never calls anyone by their proper name."
"That's, right, Randi. Or should I say, Miranda?" Cassie draws out the name, giving it a musical lilt.
"Watch it, shrimp," says Randi, a sneer curling her delicate features. A small flame flickers at the edge of her lips.
"Hey, easy. No need to fight among ourselves, right?" Jimmy turns to Cassie. "So, who we hittin' today?"
"Well, the jewelry was tough to hock, so maybe we'll go for something we can use. Like maybe some decent clothes for you, shit head. Let's head up to the Gap. Think you can lift some jeans and shirts out of there?"
Jimmy smiles. "Of course."
Up on the second level, Ted Grant lets out with a whistle. "Man, look at this place! I suppose I'll have to come back here to do my Christmas shopping. Joan and Molly both love this knick knack kind of stuff." As he waits for the clerk to get an approval on his credit card, he turns to Benny. "Did I spot a sports collectible shop down past here?"
"I think so. Let me guess, you're looking for boxing memorabilia?"
"Nah. I heard that the Danbury Mint came out with a plate honoring Will Everett. I wanted to pick it up. He's an old friend of mine." They walk out of the store and are nearly trampled by a wave of shoppers rushing toward the escalators at the end of the mall. "What the heck is going on?"
Apparently thinking he was really looking for an answer, one fleeing woman responds "There's some girl down there breathing fire!"
"I guess it's safe to assume that ain't one of the mall attractions, right Benny?" Not waiting for an answer, Ted slips back into the store and behind a large display rack of wind chimes. He quickly strips off shirt, shoes and slacks, revealing a black bodysuit underneath. He stuffs his clothes into the bag with his purchases, and tosses them to Benny as he pulls the mask up and over his head. "Hang onto this for me, willya?" Then he is ducking and slipping between people, fighting the flow, heading for the source of the confusion.
Near the center court of the giant mall, the Gap store looks like a war zone. Two racks of jeans are burning, shelves have been pulled down from the walls, and clothing is scattered everywhere you look.
"C'mon, Jimmy, wake up!" Cassie shakes him by the shoulders, trying to rouse him. "Aww, why did you have to be the one to get knocked out?"
"Great idea, Cassie, hitting the most popular store in the mall." Miranda stands by the doorway, trying to decide whether to wait for her friends or escape into the crowd.
"We woulda done fine if you'd just kept your mouth shut!" Cassie looks up toward the ceiling. "Where's William? Maybe he could help!"
A small brown form darted through the wreckage of the store. "I'm here, Cas." it said as it quickly grew and took the form of William Ravenwing.
"Think you can carry Jimmy out of here? The cops'll be here any minute."
William's form shifted again, until a black bear stood in his place.
"That'll work, Cas. Lay him over Will's back, and strap him on with a couple of those belts."
Cassie and Miranda lift Jimmy's inert form up onto the bear, and are tying him on when they are interrupted.
"Looks like a helluva party, kids. Mind if I join you?" Standing in the doorway, Wildcat surveys the scene, verifying that there is nobody else left in the store. How in the hell did a couple of kids manage to drag a bear in here, he thinks to himself.
"I'd be more worried about your ass, Cat-Man!" Cassie reaches into a pocket on her shirt, pulling out a baseball bat that seems far too large for her to have carried without it being seen. Stepping forward, she takes a swing at his head.
"Whoa, little girl!" Reflexes take over, and Wildcat ducks under the swing and reaches up to grab one of her arms. He twists, and her grip is broken. The bat falls to the floor, as Cassie raises a leg and kicks out, pushing herself away from Wildcat.
"He's all yours, Spew!" she cries as she falls backwards over a toppled clothes rack.
Miranda steps away from the bear and purses her lips. A stream of liquid fire pours forth, arching toward the boxer turned crimefighter.
"Yow!" Wildcat draws back as the material covering his arm bursts into flames. "What did you do, overdose on the hot sauce at the Cajun Cafe?"
"Laugh it up, pussy cat!" She lets loose with another stream of fire, narrowly missing the bear, who has been making his way toward the exit. It strikes a clothing rack, which ignites and forms a fiery barrier locking Wildcat and Miranda in the store.
"Noo!" cries the girl, as she realizes her mistake. "Pockets! Shaman!"
Outside the store, Cas turns. "Shit! What'd you do, Randi? The whole place is gonna go up!"
Jimmy stirs, raising one arm up from the back of the bear. "Hang on, Randi," he says weakly, reaching out for her. On the other side of the wall of fire, Miranda lifts up into the air, nearly to the ceiling. Jimmy draws back his arm, and she comes toward him. "I've got her, William. Now, get us out of here!"
Inside the store, sprinklers come on to combat the flames. As the water pours down, Wildcat grabs a pole used to reach down items hung on the higher racks, and starts levering the burning racks of clothes away from the door. By the time police and fire units arrive, he is standing in the midst of the wrecked store, water dripping from his soaked and singed costume.
Benny comes up to the store entrance, and stops dead. He spies Wildcat speaking to one of the officers. Wildcat finishes, comes over to him and takes his bag. "If you know what's good for you, kid, you'll keep your mouth shut."
"But 'Cat, all I was gonna-"
"I said, keep it shut."
"But-"
"No, Benny."
"Run those names by me again?"
"Spew. Pockets. And Shaman. I think the one named Spew goes by the name Randi." Wildcat leaned back in the stiff wooden chair. "I think I already have a line on this Shaman."
"Really? And how would that be?" asks the officer.
"While we were driving down here, I put in a call to the JSA headquarters, to see if anything here matched up with anything in our computers. As it happened, Hawkman was there, and Shaman sounds like a young man he met a couple months ago."
"Did he give you any details?"
"Said his name is William Ravenwing, and he has a necklace with these small animal figures on it. Apparently, he can take the form of any of those animals."
"Hmm, that matches with some reports we've heard of strange animals running around with this group."
"Hey, I heard you were up here." Abby Walker steps into the office, a file folder in her hand. I see you've met Paul Anderson." She turns to the officer. "You treating my friend all right, Paul?"
"He's treating me fine, Abby. Offered me coffee and everything."
"Great. Andrea from the Youth Division tagged me as I came in, and gave me this. Might be one of your mall rats, Paul."
"Mall rats?"
"Just a name I tagged them with. They've been ripping off stores in the mall for the past two weeks." Paul took the file and glanced through it. "Oh, yeah, sounds like we have a winner here." He takes out a photo and passes it to Wildcat.
"Yeah, that's her. What have we got?"
"Miranda Decker. Eighteen years old. Homecoming queen, prom queen, all-round all-American good girl. Until last summer. Apparently, Miss Goody-goody decided to go up to the Woodstock III Festival with some new-found friends."
"Jeez, ain't that the one where everyone went nuts?" asks Wildcat.
"Pretty much," answers Abby. "Riots, fires, looting, people ripping each other off. State troopers ignoring the mess and getting their pictures taken with topless teenagers. A real mess."
"That, and it was up at the old Griffiss Air Base. It's mostly an industrial park now, with a lot of defense work going on. Apparently, Miranda and company were partying near one of the factories" adds Paul. "I guess Miranda was out to prove that she could party with the best of them that weekend. Labwork found traces of cocaine, heroin, pot, Ecstasy, alcohol, PCP and LSD. Apparently, they ran out of their stash, or whatever they could buy, and were ready to start drinking anything they could find. Miranda was their guinea pig."
"What the hell did they feed her?" asks the costumed hero.
"Nobody's been able to find out. They found a couple of sealed plastic bottles by a dumpster. She downed a good bit before she started throwing up. According to witnesses, three of her friends got fried by the first couple of gouts. Police couldn't tell for sure, there wasn't much left of them."
"Good Lord!"
Abby speaks up. "Andrea said her folks have disowned her. The County tried to help her, but she disappeared about four months ago."
"What about the others?" asks Anderson.
"The other girl, I figure she must be Pockets. I do know she pulled a freakin' baseball bat out of her pocket and tried to slug me with it."
"Something's weird here. That's a huge bat, and I saw the security camera pictures, she's not that big." Anderson pulls out a digital image taken from a mall camera. "There's no way she could have had that thing down her pants!"
"Paul, remember the other reports from mall security? About her taking stuff, but when they searched her they didn't find anything? Maybe those aren't normal pockets," suggests Abby.
"I think you're right. Some sort of extra-dimensional hooey at work there." Wildcat points a finger at the tall, skinny boy draped over the bear's back in one of the pictures. "I think this one's some kind of telekinetic. People said it looked like he grabbed Spew and lifted her over the flames, just by lifting his hand."
"That would explain the stories we heard about stuff floating out of stores, too," agrees Abby.
"So, we think we know what they can do, and a little bit about who they are. Now, the next question is, where are they likely to strike next?"
For twenty years before the huge Carousel Center was built, Syracuse was known for its many malls. The city was home to the first enclosed mall in the country, and by the mid-eighties was home to no fewer than nine separate shopping malls. Carousel Center was the tenth large mall, triple the size of any of the others. Even before it was built a few of the smaller ones were nearly empty, and its construction sounded a death knell for most of the others. Now, only two other malls remain in the area. One, in the northern suburbs, remained an enclave for the middle- and-upper- class of the area. Shoppingtown Mall, on the other hand, on the east end of the city of Syracuse, has long been a favorite hangout of the poorer youth of the city.
"Okay, it doesn't have all the fancy shops of Carousel, but we should still be able to clean up here, right?" asks Jimmy.
"Sure, and nobody's going to come here looking for us. I mean, we've always ripped off the Carousel Center stores, so why would they think we've changed?" adds Cassie.
"I hope that silly Cat-Man thinks of it. I'd like to fry his hairy hide for messing things up for us!" growls Miranda.
"Don't let him get to you, Miranda," says William Ravenwing in a low, calm voice. He looks out of the maintenance corridor. "Sears is right out here. I can see the jewelry counter from here, and the ladies clothing is right behind that."
"Let's do it, then!" says Cassie, leading the way out the door.
"That thing working, Abby?" asks Wildcat, pointing at the small device in her hands.
"I'm not sure, I don't see - wait! There it is!" She points down the wide mall corridor. "Looks like they're heading for Sears."
"Good thinking on Anderson's part. That goo that Miranda has dripping from her mouth is pretty damn hot. That thermal imaging camera that you borrowed from the fire department is sensitive enough to pick her out in a crowd." Wildcat draws a wide-brimmed cowboy hat down lower over his masked face. "Let's move in."
In Sears, the robbery starts out quietly. The site of a bird flying around in a mall isn't unusual for most of the customers, though the eagle is much larger that the sparrows and robins usually spotted in such structure. Jimmy tries his best to 'lift' items out of the display cases when nobody is looking, dropping them into the near-infinite pockets on Cassie's clothes while Miranda keeps an eye out for security guards.
"There are more jewelry cases around behind the make-up displays," says Shaman, shifting his form and dropping down next to Jimmy. "And there's an exit right next to the electronics department."
"Excellent!" says his partner-in-crime. "Maybe we can score a couple of TVs or CD players." He reaches out and taps Cassie's shoulder, and they start making their way toward the back of the store.
"Okay, kids. Freeze!" Abby Walker's voice cuts through the noise of the crowd and the canned music. Jimmy turns to his left and sees her standing in one of the aisles, feet apart, pistol drawn, both hands holding it out in front of her. Hanging on a thin chain around her neck he sees her police badge.
"Damn!" shouts Miranda, as she spies two uniformed policemen down another aisle. Instinctively, she unleashes a gout of fiery liquid in their direction. Wooden pedestals burst into flame, and cosmetic bottles shatter in the sudden burst of heat.
"Scatter!" says Pockets, as Shaman shrinks down and takes the form of a fox. As he darts off under and around displays, Cassie dives back the way they came. In the ladies department, she ducks into one circular clothing rack, emerging from the other side and diving into another.
Jimmy reaches out with one hand toward Abby. Though he is easily thirty feet away from her, she feels the chain around her neck tighten. She glances down, and sees that her badge is crumpled as if someone had taken it in their hand. It pulls her, twisting at the chain, getting tighter. Flicking the safety on, she quickly thrusts her pistol into what little open space still remains in the chain before it can tighten around her neck.
"Down, officers!" says Wildcat as he brings both hands down on their shoulders and vaults over them. His leap carries him over the burning mess in the aisle, and face to face with the girl called Spew.
"Aww, does the kitty want to play?" sneers the young woman. She grabs a perfume bottle from the counter next to her and twists off the top. She throws the bottle at Wildcat, the liquid scattering as the bottle whirls in the air. "Try this on for size!" she shouts as she cuts loose with a stream of fire. The alcohol-based perfume ignites, spreading flames over a wide area.
Ignoring it, Wildcat dives for her legs. "That burning alcohol will burn itself out in seconds, and this costume is flame resistant. Any more bright ideas, Miranda?" He wraps his arms around her, bringing her down to the ground. "Get that helmet over here!" he yells. A police officer runs over with a glass-lined motorcycle helmet and slams it on the girl's head, the locks it in place with a pair of straps that pass under her arms. He adds a pair of handcuffs and hauls her to her feet.
"Now, where are my other playmates?" asks Wildcat.
He spots Abby struggling, trying to maintain enough leverage with her pistol to keep the chain around her neck from choking her. Wildcat spots the boy called Grasp staring at her. He grabs a shoe from a display rack and throws it, hitting the back of the boy's head. He jerks around as the chain around Abby's neck goes limp.
"You can grab and twist things with your little mind tricks, kid, but can you hit?" asks Wildcat, slamming a fist into Grasp's face. "Or take a hit, as the case may be."
"Thanks, 'Cat!" gasps Abby, catching her breath as her eyes scan the store. "So, who does that leave?"
"Pockets and Shaman. She was heading for the door, last I saw her." As he says it, they hear a cry from out in the mall.
"Aiee! Make it stop!" Sparks and smoke rise from a fountain outside the store. As they rush through the door, Wildcat, Abby Walker and the other offices see a drenched Pockets in a maelstrom of coursing electrical bolts.
"Must have fallen in there with whatever gimmick gives her those big pockets," says Wildcat. "Anyone got something insulated so we can grab her out?"
"Reach for me, Cassie!" Everyone looks up to see a large eagle soaring through the doorway from the store, right at the teenaged girl. Shaman arcs down, reaching with his talons. Cassie reaches up to grab his legs even as his claws dig into her coat. Mighty wings beat the air, and together they lift up and away from the water. They don't get far, though, as the girl's weight drags the eagle down, and they crash into a nearby escalator.
"Get that coat off her!" cries Abby as the officers converge on the duo. Wildcat walks over to the now-human Shaman, who is lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the escalator.
"You all right, kid?" he asks, reaching hand to help the young man rise.
"Hmm? Yeah, I just pushed myself a little too much," replies William Ravenwing. "But, why are you concerned?"
"Because that took a lot of guts to pull her out of there. You could have been killed, kid. Why did you do it?"
"What choice did I have? I couldn't let her die."
"You'd be surprised kid. Look, you're going to have some time at Hillbrook Detention Center to think about what you've done, and what you'll do after this. Try thinking about using that power of yours to help people, like you did Cassie." As one of the police officers approaches with handcuffs, Wildcat reaches out and lifts the totem necklace from around Shaman's neck. "This is what lets you change, isn't it?"
"It is. It was my grandfather's. Please, see that it doesn't get damaged."
"I will. And if I think you've changed your ways, I'll recommend that it be given back to you."
Abby walks up to them. "Looks like she'll be all right. Whoever made that coat was smart enough to insulate the lining." She watches with Wildcat as the young criminals are led away. "Kids. Think any of them stand a chance of straightening out?"
"Anything is possible. That Shaman kid, I think he's got some real potential. But, I guess only time will tell, eh?"
"I suppose. Now, how about that birthday dinner you were going to take me out for tonight?"
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Wow. Just, wow. It's been years sine I started this story. Sorry for the long wait, and it's a good thing I hadn't left you with a cliffhanger in the last story. I can promise you, though, it will not be anywhere near that long before the next story comes along. As always, any questions, comments, complaints, offers of bribes, or other random thoughts can be sent to me at fdcwriter@hauntedparsonage.us.com. Whether its praise or (the thankfully rare) criticism, I enjoy hearing from folks, so keep it coming!
Till next time, da 'Cat!
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