Chapter 7: Showdown
(It all goes to Hell and everyone plays their part)

"This is not good." Kevin frowned down at his barely-touched plate of food, feeling the small amount he'd managed to eat churning nervously in his stomach. "You're basically telling us he's unstoppable."

"Well...." Joey shifted uncomfortably. "No, I mean.... No! He's not invulnerable, it's just we... can't get close enough to capture him."

"Welsh is making arrangements to bring in some snipers," Justin told them grimly, picking mushrooms off his pizza and idly arranging them into abstract patterns on the edge of his plate. "I, um.... overheard him talking to Marks."

"Overheard?" Chris repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I listened, and I overheard, yes."

"Snipers won't do us any good if we don't know where he is," Brian pointed out, frowning. "And I'm not really sure I'm comfortable with that, anyway."

"Not our decision," AJ shrugged, munching on a spicy pepper. "The Feebs are running this show, we're just the hired muscle. And not doing too good a job of it, either."

"We did alright," Nick argued. "We got 169, didn't we?"

"He doesn't count," AJ shot back. "He's harmless, anybody could have brought him in."

"Not anybody," Chris disagreed quietly. "He'd have fought anybody else even if it meant he'd die right there in that alley. He cooperated with us because we had you guys there to reassure him. And he'll need you even more these next few weeks, if you're willing to help him out."

"I'll be there," Nick put in, shooting a quelling glare at AJ. "He... he shouldn't have to face Death alone."

"What I don't understand," Lance frowned, "Is why 128 isn't just as sick as 169. It's the same... I don't know. I felt the same thing in 169 that I did in 128, only in 169, it was attacking him rather than me."

"It affected each of them in different ways," Chris reminded them. "The Kevin clone had weak bones and muscles, The Brian clone had a brain tumor, and the Nick clone was a bleeder, among other things. 128 just had the bad luck to be affected mentally, that's all. I'd bet you anything if this illness wasn't a factor, we wouldn't be dealing with a homicidal maniac at all. They never would have escaped at all." He paused. "So in that case, maybe some good has come of this. There will be no more clones coming out of that facility, and I doubt anyone else will be willing to try, either."

Brian sighed. "God works in mysterious ways, we all knew that. He had a purpose in all this; we just have to try to figure out what it was and do our part to help it along."

"I think my part is to help 169," Nick said, staring out the window. "He's scared and lonely, and.... Well... I guess my face is comforting to him."

"Mine, too," Brian agreed, smiling at him. "He seemed indifferent about you, Kev."

"I gather they weren't close," Kevin shrugged. "I can be kind of distant when I'm in pain, so...."

"So if your clone was at all like you, he probably kept mostly to himself," Brian mused. "Makes sense."

"Maybe my role is to help with the offence. Gertrude's pretty tough, though I don't know if he can withstand severe electrical shock."

"You want us to drop a toaster in the bathtub with you and find out?" Chris asked, trying for wide-eyed innocence and failing miserably.

Kevin mock-glowered at him, one corner of his lip twitching involuntarily as he recognized the rather lame attempt to lighten the mood. "No."

"Suit yourself," Chris shrugged. "I think we can all figure out our roles pretty easily. Or if not, we can help each other out with that, later. What we need now is a plan. 128 could show up any time, and Welsh's snipers might not be ready. What then?"

"We've got to keep him from hurting innocent bystanders," JC noted. "Chris and I can help get people out of the area, and Joey...."

"I can be target practice," Joey grimaced. "Not a problem."

"I can heal people who get hurt anyway," Lance suggested. "As long as I can get to them... in time."

"I guess I'm the lookout," Justin decided, sounding decidedly unenthusiastic. "I could make fog too, if I have to. So he won't be able to see. But then we won't be able to see either, so never mind. Dumb idea."

"Lasers?" AJ asked succinctly.

Justin frowned. "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. I guess I could... I mean...."

"Only if you have to," JC said quickly. "We don't want him dead if we can save him."

"Speak for yourself," AJ muttered, shifting a little closer to a silent and subdued Howie.

"All of this only makes it all harder," Brian pointed out, gesturing to the large bay window of the suite, through which they could all clearly hear the roar of the crowds outside. "We're going to be followed everywhere we go, by friend and foe alike. There's no way we can confront 128 without innocent people getting hurt."

They all fell silent, considering this. It was true; every network station and most of the cable channels were showing special broadcasts about this new development in the boyband superhero saga, as FOX had taken to titling their exploits. Now, not only were they surrounded by the usual fans and admirers, but also picketers protesting the creation of the human clones and the FBI's subsequent failure to alert the public. Some picketers were protesting the existence of any superheroes at all, their signs calling them everything from unnatural to tools of the devil. They'd all gotten a laugh out of the one protester who had acquired a poster of each of the groups and painted devil horns and tails on them. "Because we're evil incarnate!" Nick had growled, curling his fingers into claws and pretending to stalk JC around the room. JC simply grew actual horns and a tail, and turned the tables on Nick. That jovial mood hadn't lasted very long.

"We'll just have to lure him away somehow," Joey decided finally. "That means splitting up."

"But who would he follow?" Lance wanted to know. "And don't you dare ask me to look in his head to find out."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Chris said quickly.

"169 might know," Nick quietly pointed out. "We should probably talk to him; get as much information about 128 as we can."

"How?" AJ asked. "We can't go out there, we'll get killed. And Joey, shut up, we all know you're nigh invulnerable. Quit rubbing it in."

I didn't say anything," Joey muttered, looking slightly hurt.

"I can go," JC said suddenly. "I can teleport there and back, none of them will ever see me."

"Take Nick with you," Chris decided, nodding in agreement. "He trusts Nick."

"Er..." Nick hesitated.

"If that's alright with you," Chris added belatedly.

"Well.... No, it's fine. I guess. I can.... stay with him, for a while, after. Visit."

"That'd be nice for him." Brian smiled proudly at his young friend.

"Okay." JC stood and held a hand out to Nick. "No time like the present."

Nick accepted the hand. "So how does this teleportation thing wo—"

Kevin blinked in surprise as the two of them disappeared in mid-word. "Oh. That was unexpected."

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Chris told him solemnly.

"Right," Kevin nodded, deciding it was easier to just agree than to trouble himself trying to figure Chris out. "Howie, are you okay? You haven't said a word this whole time."

Howie shrugged. "Sure. Just.... Thinking."

"Anything to share?" AJ asked, looking worriedly at him over the tops of his sunglasses.

"Not really, no." Howie managed a sickly smile. "I'll let you know."

~*~

"—ork? Oh." They were already there. Nick smiled reassuringly at 169 and his startled nurse. "Hi."

"We're just here to visit with him," JC said quickly, letting go of Nick's hand. "If you don't mind."

"No, I... er.... No, I'll just.... Er, no. Yes." The nurse shut her mouth with a snap and straightened, reddening. "I was done." She hurried out of the room, leaving a bemused 169 with his arm still outstretched, blood pressure cuff dangling.

"Hmmm." Nick stared after her, then shrugged and took a seat by 169's bedside and busied himself removing the cuff. "Sorry about that."

"We sometimes have that effect on people," JC explained, seating himself at the other side of the bed.

"It's alright," 169 said shyly, rubbing at his arm, which was already bruising. "I wasn't expecting any visits."

JC looked guilty at that. "Well, we do have some questions for you—"

"Actually," Nick interrupted, "I'll bet you anything that at least Chris already knows the answers to those questions. Or can guess, or whatever. And he let us come here anyway because he knew 169 might want company."

JC considered that. "You know, you're right."

169 looked surprised. "Really?" They nodded. "I think I like Chris."

"He's a good guy," JC agreed proudly.

"Well, ask your questions anyway," 169 suggested, settling back against his pillows. "I want to help."

"Well...." Nick paused, looking to JC for help but only getting a shrug in reply. "What does 128 want? I mean, in the end?"

169 grimaced. "I don't know. At first, when we were still locked up, he just talked about freedom. And revenge. But he'd already gotten both of those and he still kept on... killing people. I think he just hates."

"Hates...?" JC prompted.

"Everybody," 169 clarified.

"Oh." JC frowned, then asked, "Is there anybody he hates more than anybody else?"

"Me. I think. And...." 169's eyes widened. "And 154, and 144, and 162. You're trying to trap him, right? Lure him? You have the perfect faces to do it!" He looked at JC. "Well, some of you do."

"But why would he hate you and the others? You were in the same situation he was!"

"I don't know. I always wondered that, myself," 169 sighed. "154.... He wanted us all to be friends. He said that all we had was each other, and that we could each make it bearable for everyone else. But 144 was always in pain, and he snapped at everyone all the time. Wanted to be left alone. 162 was okay, but he seemed far away a lot of the time. He had hallucinations and things; talked to people besides us. 128 was just... angry. So it was really only 154 and me. And then...." His voice trailed off and his eyes brightened with tears. "And then I betrayed him."

"No!" Nick leaned forward and took 169's hand, squeezing it gently. "No, it wasn't your fault. You were afraid, you didn't want to die. We understand that, and so did 154."

"You didn't see his face. He looked at me...."

"'69," Nick said kindly. "Don't, please. Look, I may not be him, but he... he was part of me, in a way, and if it was me and AJ, I'd understand. I'd want him to live even if I couldn't. 154 would be happy that you're here, alive and safe."

"I don't...." 169 closed his eyes and pulled his hand away. "I wish I could believe you."

If you can't believe him, believe me.

They all jumped at the unexpected voice, and had to shield their eyes as the room began to glow with a warm light that coalesced into a single figure at the foot of the bed. When the light faded, a young blond was standing there, smiling kindly down at 169.

"'54?" The clone breathed, eyes overflowing with tears. "It can't be!"

I'm here, don't cry. The spirit glided to the bedside and Nick scrambled away to make room, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. Don't hurt yourself, he said, shooting an eerily familiar grin at Nick.

"Uhhh.... Okay."

Nick joined JC, who had stood and backed away toward the door of the room. "Is it just me," he whispered, or has this gotten too weird even for us?"

JC nodded violently.

The spirit and the clone were talking quietly, their heads bent close together, fingers intertwined. "This is kind of...." Nick swallowed. "We should go, we're in the way."

JC nodded again, seemingly mute. They turned to go, only to bump into an irate Agent Marks.

"Thank God!" the man gasped, out of breath. "The nurse told me you were here, you've got to see—hello?" He had finally noticed the ghost at 169's bedside. It was staring at him curiously.

"154," Nick explained.

"Oh. Um.... Nice to meet you?" The spirit nodded. "Anyway," the FBI agent dragged his eyes away from the manifestation. "128's shown up at the hotel. It's live on all of the channels."

"What?!" JC turned and stretched his arm impossibly long, as if it were made of rubber—which Nick supposed at the moment, it was—and grabbed the remote control from 169's bedside.

169's eyes went wide. "He—?"

"Shapeshifter," JC answered tersely, turning on the television.

"—scene here at the Hilton hotel in down town Cincinnati, where a fully-grown clone of Backstreet Boy Howie Dorough is running rampant, using its electricity powers to harm pop stars and civilians alike! Just moments ago, Backstreet Boy Kevin Richardson sustained unknown injuries while attempting to usher bystanders to safety."

The small group in the hospital room watched in horror as the scene switched to a previously recorded tape of Gertrude using his considerable bulk to herd away a large crowd, only to be struck in the back with what looked like a lightning bolt. The creature's howl of pain was cut off abruptly as his body shrunk and went limp, leaving an unconscious Kevin to be swallowed up by the panicked crowd.

"Other members of the two groups have busied themselves attempting to calm the crowd and draw the clone's fire, strongman Joey Fatone absorbing most of the electrical discharge without complaint." This time, the tape showed Joey, his face grim and pained, doing his best to intercept every burst of lightning that leapt from the clone's fingertips. Blue laser bolts could be seen shooting in from the side, but the intense electrical field surrounding the clone seemed to deflect and neutralize them. "Justin Timberlake attempted to subdue the clone with the use of his laser power, but was quickly cut down. We remind you that the scenes you will see here are fairly graphic and should not be viewed by the very young, pregnant women, or those with heart conditions."

JC gasped as he watched Justin fall under an onslaught of electricity, his body convulsing grotesquely before Joey was able to block the charge. Nick unthinkingly grabbed his hand.

"While we have not yet received any updates on the whereabouts of condition of Kevin Richardson, we are assured that Justin Timberlake is alive and in stable condition."

JC let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"There are several ambulances standing by, already filled to bursting with the injured. Amazingly, there have not yet been any confirmed deaths. Police and the FBI have not yet shared their plans for the capture of the clone, and so far, it seems as thought they may not—wait! What's this?" The reporter put a hand to her ear as if listening to something. "There is a new development." The camera left the reporter and focused on the fight between Joey and 128. Joey was obviously slowing, his steps faltering as he missed more and more of the blasts of electricity. Howie could clearly be seen emerging from within the crowd, staring determinedly at the clone and walking directly at him, unprotected. "Backstreet Boy Howie Dorough, who had not yet been seen in this conflict, has emerged from the hotel," the voiceover announced excitedly.

Nick let her voice fade into static as he stared at the screen, barely aware of even JC's hand in his own. What was Howie doing?

The clone was directing all of his energy and attention to Howie now. Joey was standing directly between the two of them, but the clone seemed intent on destroying Howie, even if he had to go through Joey to do it. Howie just kept walking slowly forward, head down and eyes shielded from the intense light. He reached Joey and shoved him aside, looking surprised at how easily the man was displaced. The clone grinned nastily as Joey simply fell where he stood, not bothering to get up. Howie spared Joey a worried glance, but kept walking. Faced with one single target, the clone's attack grew more focused, leaving the police, FBI, and remaining uninjured pop stars free to clear away the crowds.

And still, Howie kept walking. The bright light around them intensified, the very air around them crackling with electricity and heat. 128 was laughing, his hair a writhing halo around his head. Howie was grim and determined, lightning dancing over his skin like snakes. With every step he took, the light grew brighter, until finally, the two of them vanished, completely obscured by light.

"Howie?" Nick whispered, "What's happening?"

But no one could answer him.

~*~

"Why are you doing this?" Howie stared sadly at his clone, his body tense as he braced himself against the continual barrage of electrical power. "What good does it do?"

The clone growled at him and grabbed both of his arms, sweat beginning to gather at his temples from the exertion of maintaining such a steady attack.

Howie easily knocked the arms away and placed his hands on either side of the clone's head, over his ears. "I want you to stop, willingly. We don't want to hurt you."

The clone squirmed, but couldn't break free. "Hurt me? I don't think so. You're the one who's not walking away."

Grimly, Howie concentrated hard and sent two single, focused bolts of electricity into the clone's ears, straight into his brain. The clone gasped and faltered, sagging briefly before recovering. "I ask you again to please stop. It doesn't have to end this way."

In response, the clone lifted his arms in an attempt to return the favor. Howie shocked him again, with more intensity. 128 whimpered in pain, his eyes crossing momentarily.

"Please." Howie stared into a pair of brown eyes so much like his own. "I don't want to do this."

128 closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, his mouth widening into a sneer. He looked at once angry, frightened, and desperate. "No," he said, and lifted his arms one last time.

Howie closed his eyes and let loose with a stream of power, two thin bolts of lightning that raced unerringly to their target deep within 128's sickness-addled brain.

The clone screamed, his body convulsing and his eyes rolling grotesquely in his head. Finally, with one last jerk, his eyes dimmed and he went silent. Howie cautiously loosened his hold and sank to the ground, the clone's body cradled gently in his arms. "128?"

128 opened his eyes and Howie stiffened, but the clone only looked straight at Howie with eyes that were lucid for the first time. "Thank you," he said, smiling genuinely. Then his eyes closed and he let out one last rattling breath.

Howie shuddered and stood, leaving the clone's body there on the ground. He blinked, suddenly noticing the gawking crowd surrounding him, the cameras still rolling. Chris and Lance pushed their way out of the crowd, Lance kneeling by Joey's side and supporting him as he struggled to stand, while Chris headed straight for Howie, looking unsure.

"Howie?" he asked quietly, "You okay?"

Howie looked around again, seeing Joey getting shakily to his feet, using Lance as a crutch. "Where is everybody?" he asked.

"Um...." Chris frowned worriedly at him. "Everyone's okay, don't worry. But you—"

"I'm fine," Howie interrupted, desperately ignoring the body that lay unmoving behind him. "I.... I'm fine."

"Maybe you should lie down." Chris took another step forward so Howie took another one back, feeling vaguely surprised when the world spun around him and went dark.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Email: kittie.verdena@gmail.com