Chapter 12 of 20

Chapter 12: Shoulda worn your seatbelt.

Imperfect Shapes4,202 words~22 min read

MBR must be really damn desperate for staff. Not only was I licensed within 24 hours of trying to be, but I'm being called by Terrance literally the morning after. I glance at Mirka's empty spot on the couch as I hold the phone to my ear. "Yo. What's up?"

"Two things. First, your codename-"

"Nope. Not doing that. It goes against everything I'm trying to do."

He sighs loudly into the phone. "That's what I was saying, Lena. You can create entirely new identities at will. Having a codename is a bit redundant, and it may be useful down the line to not have one."

"Oh. That's... good? I wasn't expecting good news."

"Yeah, well, someone high up is keeping a close eye on you. Apparently, you're valuable." He doesn't sound particularly convinced, and given my first impression, I can hardly blame him for it. "Moving on, you've been assigned to a new mission at noon. Your partner-"

"Meerkat's busy today. She has to buy a new phone."

He stays silent for a long moment. "Your partner for the day will be picking you up at-"

"Not Meerkat?"

"Interrupt me again and I'm going to..." Terrance takes a few deep breaths that come across as hisses over the phone. "I'm going to hang up. Your partner will pick you up at your place. Since Meerkat isn't at the level to have an exclusive partner, you're being shared around a bit."

"Dumb, but whatever. Might be fun."

Terrance doesn't bother with a 'goodbye' when he hangs up. What a jackass... I reawaken my phone, reading it say 10:02. I have two hours to kill, and don't really feel like leaving the house yet. What can I do in he meantime?

I suppose it would make sense to finally get around to acquiring an aquatic shell of some kind... actually, what I need more than anything else is a better way to produce objects from my shell. The empty pocket trick is fine, but severely limits the size of what I can create, and I can't exactly drop my pants to start producing bigger objects. What would work, though?

My mind, inexplicably, goes to cartoons. The trope of pulling out a comically large hammer from behind their back. It would require me lifting my shirt, though, which is far from subtle.

I think there isn't a good answer here, at the end of the day. I can't relocate my core without retracting my shell and spending fifteen or twenty seconds creating the space it will connect to my shell and filling the other. There isn't enough room to keep me in my shell's palm, and that isn't exactly secretive, anyway...

It could be that I'm looking at this the wrong way entirely. I don't always have to be subtle. It's not a terrible idea to simply have two versions of my Lena shell with different faces, hair, and other identifiable characteristics. On the other hand, when am I going to want to be less subtle where I couldn't simply retract my shell entirely for a few seconds?

I've looked for an answer for years, but never really came to a conclusive one. Today is no exception. Hopefully, at least, I've passed a bit of the wait. I check my phone again. 10:05.

I'm a fairly patient person, all things considered. Two hours really isn't all that long in the grand scheme of things. Back to making drugs and listening to music it is.

I breath in the vapors of the sky

And the scent of the earth's blood

Rises up to meet me

I find my feet and stumble forth

Into the light of the world unveiled

It doesn't feel like much time has passed as the alarm I set beeps out, the only indicator being the shadows cast in my apartment having moved. I eagerly jog down the stairs, and walk outside of the moderately crappy apartment building just as a chunky black SUV pulls alongside the sidewalk. Like a child unwrapping a present, I open the door to face someone I have never met. I'm just glad it isn't Springtail or Yak.

"Lena," he states without fanfare. "Get in." The man is maybe mid-thirties, shiny brown hair either freshly showered or greasy as hell. He's fairly tan, though I can't tell if that's from the sun or from genetics. Not that it matters, I suppose. He plucks at his razor-burned stubble while waiting for me to get in with him.

"I don't like to get into cars with strangers. You understand," I say, trying to feel him out.

"Hyrax." He's not much for talking, it seems. If anything, he looks slightly uncomfortable. No complaints here. I get into the passenger seat, settling into the faux leather. Hyrax is a little twitchy, eyes darting to his mirrors every few seconds, hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly.

Fifteen minutes or so go on in silence. "Soooo... Hyrax. I didn't get any information on what we're doing today. Care to elucidate?"

His eyes only briefly observe me. "Shapeshifter?"

"Of a sort. Mostly just this and a raven, but I have options if I know ahead of time."

An uncomfortable silence starts to take over the car, which I break before it can get any worse. "Dude, I asked you a question. What the hell-"

He slams on the brakes, jerking me forward and slamming my head on the dashboard. With a leer, he turns into a parking lot as I make sure he didn't concuss my shell. "Shoulda worn your seatbelt. Better watch yourself, shapeshifter." With an attempt at a cold stare, he opens his dark grey jacket to reveal a shitty little 9mm.

I can't manage to put away my increasingly amused smile. "Sure, buddy. Whatever you say."

He quickly gets out of the SUV, keeping me in his sight at all times as I casually step onto the asphalt, looking around the strip mall we ended up in. Two different dollar stores, a nail salon, a middle eastern restaurant, and a pet store. I really hope we aren't going into the pet store.

"Lena. Walk."

I turn my head back to him. He's still fidgety, way too nervous for anything remotely discrete. Any subtlety we'd otherwise have is completely lost by his incredibly awkward hand near his pants, hidden by his other hand pulling his jacket over it. He looks like he's about to rob a bank.

"Please tell me you're not serious."

"I've killed magical beasts before. I'll kill another if you make me." His nostrils widen as his breathing increases, sweat starting to form on his forehead. Probably from wearing a heavy jacket in early September.

I don't even know how to approach this. Part of me just wants to call it a bust and go home, while the other wants to take this guy's gun, unload it, and give it back only after he's been a good boy. "Yeah... maybe stop threatening to kill me? I'm pretty sure we're a team here."

"I know your kind. You only understand dominance. And I'm not about to let you dominate me."

I can't even begin to unpack whatever the Freud is wrong with this guy. "Can you at least tell me what we're doing? I didn't get the case file."

"Hell no. The less you know, the better. I'll handle it, you just stay in my sight and out of my way."

Screw it, I tried, and this isn't my fault. "Whatever." I turn on my heel, and start walking towards the nail salon.

"The pet store, moron."

Ignoring how he expected me to know that, I plod in the direction of it, soon standing in front of it and impatiently waiting for him to catch up as he slowly creeps over. I gently tug on the door to find it locked. I turn around, and Hyrax jerks his head to the side. I take a few steps back, and watch him also try to open the door, and also finding it locked. He glares at me, sweating more now. "Did you lock it?"

"How the hell would I have locked it? Genuinely, how would that even work?"

"Don't talk back to me. Open this goddamn door before I open you." He steps back more, eyes moving from side to side. With irritation, I check the time on my phone. 12:27. I look at the store hours. 12:30 to 6:30.

"I can open it, but it will take me five minutes."

"You get four."

I nod, and lean against the glass window, looking through the news on my phone.

"I said-"

"Good things come to those who wait, buddy. I'm busy. Just give me another four minutes and the door will open. Shapeshifter stuff." I try to stare him down for a moment. He doesn't seem particularly intimidated, more disgusted by my attempt. Now that his hair has had time to dry, I can confirm it's just really greasy.

After a few more minutes, the lock clicks open as the door opens from the inside, a middle-aged woman's head peering out from the open door and nearly slamming itself on the frame. "Jeez, you startled me!" she says, voice heavy with misplaced frustration. Her face is fairly pink, her eyes puffy and red, either from allergies or tears.

"You're Greta Simpson." Hyrax states.

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She takes a slow step back, forcing me to intervene. "Sorry, he's new. Hi, I'm Lena, and this is Hyrax. We're MBR."

She stops closing the door. "If you're MBR, shouldn't you be named after an animal?"

"Sadly, the animal I was going to be named after got hit by a car. So what's the deal in here?" I angle my shell sideways to squeeze past her, until Hyrax tries to pull me back by the collar. I let him, mostly to avoid another convenience store situation.

Hyrax roughly pushes past the woman, nearly knocking her into the door. "That thing is a shapeshifter," he hisses. "Don't trust anyone who looks like me that isn't wearing exactly what I'm wearing."

I look to the woman in a 'can you believe this shit' kind of way. She, in fact, can't. "You don't have to be so rude," she says to Hyrax.

"Yeah. I do. You know how many people it's killed? Just stand aside and let me work." Hyrax starts inspecting the fish tanks, as the woman's façade of bravery starts to crumble.

I try to warmly smile. "Someone was shooting at me, once, back when I was a police officer. I returned fire to protect my now-girlfriend." Lying by omission is still lying, but really, I didn't omit much.

"Oh... aww. I mean, that must have been terrible, but... it's like something out of a movie." Her eyes glitter in the glow of heat lamps from the nearby reptile tanks.

"You should see her, then you'd really think it was. Now that I think about it, I don't have any pictures of her... I never really bothered with photos, since they don't hold all that much meaning for me. I need to make a better effort on that."

She nods, sitting on the counter, eyes still following Hyrax as he does whatever shit he's doing with the fish tanks. "You should send her a photo, then. I bet she'd send one back, if you'd like one."

"True. Her phone got obliterated recently, but she probably has her new one by now."

I start to notice a hint of skepticism in her eyes. Which is fair, really, there's a lot of evidence against me. All I can do it hope she actually did get the phone.

I take a picture of myself next to a bearded dragon, with a message of, 'First and second hottest things in the pet store.' I send it, and after a few tense moments, sigh of relief when I see the word 'delivered' switch to 'read'. She replies with a photo of her own, which I open with Greta watching over my shoulder. It's of her eyes just barely peeking over the blankets, reading 'Too bad you're not in bed with me.'

I turn off the phone, turning slightly red for a moment. "Ahh. Umm. That was a little personal. Sorry."

She quietly giggles to herself. "You two are adorable."

"Thanks. It's mostly her pulling the weight, though. Anyway, before Hyrax starts shooting at your pleco tank, what happened? And do you need some kind of allergy medicine? I keep them on hand."

"Would you be a dear?"

"No problem. Give me a minute."

She nods, a little curious about why I would need time, but not suspicious. "Well, there's something wrong with some of our newly hatched lizards. There was a strange flash of light outside yesterday, you see... maybe 'wrong' isn't the right term. They-"

"Where the fuck are the tegus?" Hyrax demands, looking pissed at Greta for reasons I can't begin to fathom. "I looked at every fish tank twice."

It's times like this where I'm glad I never got around to making my shell reactively laugh. I'd probably get shot in this situation. I quickly place a pair of antihistamines in Greta's hands, expecting a fight.

Greta hops off the counter, pointing to her left. "Tegus are reptiles. Not fish."

"Then what the hell are the fish with the blue and red stripes?"

"...tetras?"

"Watch your attitude." Hyrax stomps over to the lizards, and after taking a single look, reaches into his jacket.

Obviously, I don't intend to let him start shooting up a pet store, so before he can fire I sprint over, standing between myself and him. "Easy, let's take a deep breath."

"Move, or I'm going to shoot you, too." He holds the gun shakily, finger sweaty on the trigger.

I turn around to look at what's got him so worked up. Ahh. Yeah, that would do it.

The black and white tegu hatchlings, maybe six inches long, are all together in a glass tank with paper towels lining the base. Of the fifteen or so hatchlings, nine of them looks completely normal as far as lizards go. Six of them, however, are awkwardly trying to walk on their hind legs, making strange little hissing clicking sounds at each other, playfully wrestling occasionally. They're clearly just infants, of whatever the hell they're supposed to be.

I turn my head back around to see a drop of sweat moving down the trigger of Hyrax's gun. I could just kill him, of course. I'm not too big on child murder, and they look at least semi-sapient. Still, there might be a better way here than killing my partner on my first mission...

I can't let him kill my shell, though. The thirty seconds to a couple minutes it would take to repair it would give him more than enough time to slaughter the lot of them. There really aren't many good options, especially for someone as unstable and likely intoxicated as this guy.

He's already given away his entire worldview based on his words and actions, and he truly seems to think no matter what I do, I'm doing the wrong thing.

I take my own gun from my void, pointing at the tegus in his stead. "Look away. These creatures must be disposed of, and I'm better suited for it than you. Your human sentimentality might have problem killing these infant lizard people, but I don't have such weaknesses."

I put a lot of emphasis on the words 'infant' and 'people'. This is a huge gamble, but it's the only way I know of besides beating the shit out of him.

I can't let him think too long, or he might put the pieces together on what I'm doing. I pull back the hammer, aiming with both hands and pointing the barrel at one of the little guys. It looks up at me, and slowly blinks with its little eye membranes, one eye at a time. God damn, they're cute.

I feel the barrel of Hyrax's gun move to the back of my own head. "Nuh-uh. Something's fucky. Why do you want them dead?"

"Look at them. They look delicious, right? I could decompose them, figure out what magic makes them work, and build an entirely new identity around one. I can't leave any alive, though. We're on the same page here."

Hyrax takes a moment to look past me and at the tank, watching one of them take an awkward, clumsy step forward and land directly on its snout. It flicks its tongue out a couple times before trying again.

"...fuck. You thought you could trick me into killing these things, huh?"

"There's no tricks. Don't mess this up. We need to kill them."

He digs the gun a little further into the back of my head. I wink at Greta, who is watching in terror as she fumbles with her phone to call 911.

"Step away, shapeshifter. Now," Hyrax commands.

Just as planned so far. Okay, part two. "I don't think so. You don't have the balls to try anything. You're all talk, you worm."

I feel my shell's leg give out from under me in tandem the sound of an explosion loud enough to make my ears ring. He shot me through the knee. The baby tegus, magic and not, all huddle in one corner in fear.

"You!" Hurax snaps at Greta, "Take the infants to the back. I'll call MBR to have them picked up."

She dashes to the tank, picking it up with significant effort. I can see in her eyes how thankful she is, as she carries the tank to the back.

Now I just have to ham up the ruse. "Damn you, Hyrax. I'll remember that name, and I'll remember your face. I'll come for you in the dead of night. I never sleep, and I heal fast. I can be anyone, and for you, I'll be everyone."

He lowly chuckles, which slowly turns into maniacal mocking. "Yeah. There's the creature I knew you were all along. There's only one solution to your kind, monster."

With that, my shell dies, shot through the head. Fine by me. I stay put as he awkwardly paces near my corpse, calling for an MBR cleanup team to come and take both my corpse and the magic-infused lizards away.

They arrive within ten minutes, immediately taking Hyrax off to the side to figure out what the hell happened. As soon as he's out of sight, I retract my shell, replacing it with my raven one in the meantime. I flap into an empty birdcage that I can barely fit into, hoping no one will think too hard about there being a raven in a pet store. At least, not for another forty seconds...

Despite my incredible on the spot thinking, no one even comes back inside during the time it takes for me to once against put my shell back together. I quickly swap back into it, and subtly take my gun off the floor and tuck it away into my void. There's no reason MBR has to know I pulled it out, realistically speaking...

I have two options now. I could wait here and hope the retrieval team can tell I'm the sane one, or I could go outside and potentially tank Hyrax's career by watching him freak out about me. It's a surprisingly difficult decision. Then again, I'm still a heartless monster, right? Which decision is more evil here?

Stupid baby lizard things. They're the complicating factor. They deserve better than Hyrax...

They do deserve better than Hyrax. I deserve better than Hyrax. Honestly, screw that guy, everyone deserves better than him. I stomp outside, nodding to a member of the cleanup team who looks like she's seen a... well, I suppose ghosts are fairly normal in this job.

Hyrax spots me after a few seconds, as I smirk widely and wait for him to start screaming about me.

He does me one better by drawing his gun and shooting at me, hitting me twice in the left arm, and missing four times before he's subdued by a couple of the security staff.

I turn to the member of the cleanup team I nodded at earlier, finding her white top suddenly turning red. She quickly sits on the ground, clutching her side while staying eerily silent. Obviously, this is more important than my little vendetta. My arms both work, so I start checking her wound immediately.

Thank God for all that time spent with Shirai. It's not a hard diagnoses here. It only grazed her liver, and went straight in and out. Something as thin as a single-material needle and thread is incredibly quick to make, so I of course get started on that right away, making sure to tie the thread to the needle before I send it out it. The bullets in my arm are barely a concern at the moment, with me able to tighten the muscles around the wounds to physically stop the bleeding until it can coagulate.

It's a simple matter to save her life. The liver's more or less intact due to the small caliber of Hyrax's gun, and doesn't actually need anything besides a quick stitching and some disinfecting. Same with the entry and exit wounds. She remains amazingly calm the entire time, hopefully just psychological shock.

A side benefit of my void is that it's naturally sterile. Even viruses can't survive it, oddly enough, which puts me firmly in the camp of "viruses are alive because they can die."

I tug on the stitching a bit just to make sure, before returning it to my void. As I stand up, shaking the blood from my hands, I get a few weird looks from the three other non-security members of the cleanup team. It's a little unsettling, until they start clapping. Oh, right, most of MBR is on my side. That's going to take some getting used to.

Before I leave, I quickly withdraw my shell to clean myself of all the blood and fix my arm. I should really start keeping a tally of how many times I've died or been shot, just for the hell of it.

I waltz back inside the pet store, nearly slipping on my own blood as I search for Greta. I find her holed up in the back room, wielding a broom like a spear and pointing it at me. She relaxes immediately at seeing it's me, and sets side her improvised weapon. She's shaking, as she sits down next to the heavy glass tank, head in her hands.

"I thought MBR would keep them safe. I didn't think-"

"Don't blame yourself for their fuckup. Who the hell else were you supposed to call?"

She sighs in resignation, gingerly plucking one of the lizard people babies and holding it in her hands. The little guy relaxes instantly, soaking in her body heat and starting to look sleepy, before it closes its eyes fully.

I can't help myself. I pick up one myself, and take a couple pictures with it to send to Mirka before returning it to the tank.

"So... I'm just gonna go now. Don't worry, they're safe now. I promise," I lie. Truthfully, I have no idea if they'll be okay, but there's really no alternative.

----------------------------------------

When I walk through the apartment door, I groan loudly to signify how crappy my day was to Mirka. She gets up from the couch to greet me, tightly hugging my shell. "You want to talk about it, or do you not want to think about it?" she asks.

"That's the nicest question anyone's ever asked me. I'm gonna go with both." I recount the details of the mission while Mirka guides me to the bed, letting me complain while she gently rubs my leg with her hand. At least she liked the pictures I took.

"So how much longer until I can pick my own partner? A couple weeks?"

"Typically about two years."

I groan again, even louder than the first time. "There has to be some kind of workaround. This job is going to obliterate my psyche if I have to get shot multiple times while saving literal babies. Isn't that going to classically condition me into wanting to kill children or something?"

"I've been looking into a solution on getting us working together. Terrance actually has a lead on it, because in his words, 'I really don't want to talk to Lena anymore.' So you annoyed him into helping."

"I'm truly an orb of many talents. Ugh. I'm retracting my shell for a bit. Too much stress today."

Mirka flops back on the bed. "A three o' clock nap sounds heavenly right now."

I look over to her. "Let me know when you wake up. I'm going to be deep in lack of thought."

She snatches me up as soon as my shell is retracted, and immediately gets under the blankets. She says something I can't hear.

I'm sure it's nothing.

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