Reader had expected Steven to whimper. He’d expected the horrified look on his face. He’d expected the several quivers that ran up Steven’s spine.
He’d expected all of those things.
He hadn’t expected this.
Steven just sat there with his ridiculous sunglasses in his lap, staring off into space. Reader knew he was using his powers to look off into some era of the past, but it was sparking infuriating sitting there and waiting for him to return. Reader could only hope he was seeing something horrifying, something to do with Koschei the Deathless, something....
Koschei. Suddenly, Reader didn’t want Backtrack looking into the past of this room at all. He was about to pull out his pistol again and shoot the man in the other arm when Steven’s eyes focused again and he turned shakily to Reader.
“Listen," he said, a faltering smile on his face. "Whatever you think I can do for you, you're wrong. I'm no use to you. I can tell you quite earnestly that I've never been useful to anyone in my entire life. You know that isn't a lie."
Reader heard an audible “gulp” before Steven moved on. "I'm just here to find out if Remington Springfield still has family...”
Remington Springfield. Remington sparking Springfield. Reader stopped listening. I can’t have heard that right, he thought. But, he had. And his Reading of Steven confirmed it.
Steven knew Remington Springfield. Which meant that Remington Springfield was still alive.
This time, it was Reader’s mouth that went dry.
* * *
The Dalles, two years previously
“Sparking man,” Reader grumbled on his way back to the church garage. The man he was speaking of was none other than Remington Springfield, son of Patrick and Nancy Springfield and brother of Daisy, who were cowering in the garage along with the rest of the prisoners. Vanilla guards and a few Epics surrounded the open garage doors, with orders to shoot anyone who tried to escape.
Reader reached the garage and stood erect in front of it, watching the prisoners mill around inside. He could easily spot the Springfields in the crowd. They were the ones glaring at the guards--even the Epic guards--instead of looking down like all the other good vanillas. Reader had half a mind to shoot the three of them, just to show all the Springfields who was really in charge. Why, Reader--
A single gunshot.
Then several more.
The garage erupted into chaos. Bullets were flying everywhere as vanilla guards shot at what they thought was the source, and more than a few dropped from bullets that came from their friends. The prisoners--especially the Springfields--looked up with excitement, thinking that perhaps they would be able to get free. Reader was about to do something about that, when a stray bullet took him in the left arm.
Pain exploded from his arm. Reader yelped and grabbed his arm where the bullet had hit. Not for the first time, he cursed Calamity for not giving him any defensive powers. He put as much pressure as he could on the wound with his other arm--he could still feel the bullet in there, pressed up against the bone.
Unfortunately, Calamity hadn’t given him any good offensive powers either, so he dashed away as quickly as he could from the shooting and toward the church. Koschei will be able to heal me, he thought as he ran. He’ll heal me and remove this sparking bullet and kill that Calamity-cursed Remington!
Reader stopped when he saw the red-and-blue flashing lights around the church. If those officers knew he was working for Koschei.... As quick as he’d come Reader spun around headed for the church pavilion. It was a bit too close to the garage for comfort, but it was either maybe being shot by a stray bullet or definitely being shot by an officer. He arrived and sat down on one of the metal benches, then--still holding his arm--got his radio out with his wounded arm. Wincing at the pain, Reader pressed the “talk” button. “Koschei, can you read me?” He set the radio down and commenced making a makeshift bandage out of his tie.
Koschei’s voice came through the radio. “Tell me you ordered those soldiers to fire.”
Reader winced again--but not at the bullet wound this time. “I wish I could. It was that sparking man Remington!”
A pause followed. “Remington Springfield?”
Reader nodded, though he knew Koschei couldn’t see him. “Yes. Him.”
When Koschei spoke, his voice was low and cold. “Is he with you? Do you have him injured, in custody, with you?”
Reader swallowed. “I...no. I left him with the soldiers, who were commanded to take him in.”
"Did you know they were planning this?"
“No, I never really looked at them. I was a bit busy Reading Remington and that sparking wife of his, Laurie.”
"Is she at least with you?"
The pain in his arm was starting to dull, but Reader knew that any help from Koschei was going to be a long time coming, considering the mood Koschei was in. “No. As I said before, I left them with the soldiers.”
Koschei paused again. "I'll be there soon."
Another voice cut into the conversation. "Don't worry, capable people will be there in a moment," Frequency's snide voice said. "Let us go, my lord.” Frequency raised his voice, probably shouting to the soldiers outside the church. “Your lord, The Deathless One, is leaving now. Remove yourselves from his path or be removed.” Whistling was the next sound through the radio and as bullets fired, Reader heard the snap that was them shattering from the whistles. Next came a mild boom as, he assumed, Frequency clapped to clear a path through police and soldiers. "We're through!" Frequency shouted. "I knocked over a whole bunch of the guards and shattered the others' guns, Reader. Sorry you can't do that." The radio clicked off.
Reader gritted his teeth and set his radio down. He'd be sure to get Frequency back, somehow, when he saw him again and could Read him. He leaned back and put more pressure on his bullet wound, listening to the continued gunshots and occasional booms that came from the church.
Despite the pressure--or maybe because of it--the wound continued to pulse with pain. Springfield! Reader cursed. It was his fault that Reader had been shot.
I will end you, Springfield. I will make sure that, whether by my hand or Koschei's, you will die. Another pulse of pain came from the wound. You will die.
Remington Springfield will die.
* * *
Reader, with some effort, shook himself back into the present. Steven looked at him with expectant eyes, probably awaiting his next snide comment. Reader, however, couldn't bring himself to say anything. Springfield is alive.
Reader looked up at the one remaining soldier in the room. "Go get Autumn," he said, forcing his voice not to shake. "Tell her to come in here. I have...the third Epic is ready." The soldier nodded and stepped out of the office.
Reader leaned back, releasing a shaky breath. He didn't care that Steven saw him being weak. He didn't care about anything; his mind was still on the past. A past wrought with pain, deception, and betrayal. And, weaving through it all, was one man.
And that man was still alive.
