Title: Discovering What We Don't Understand (1/2)
Author: Stormy1x2
Word Count: 5600
Summary: Dash Baxter followed Phantom to see his idol in action, and discovered far more than he wanted to.
Chapter 1
The battle had definitely been cool to watch.
Dash wasn't afraid of ghosts like some people – oh sure, he HAD been, once upon a time. He would deny remembering anything but he knew he had a track record of making, well, tracks, every time a ghost showed up at school. But so many of them kept crawling up out of the woodwork, and when you had a hero like the Phantom taking care of business, it became much more interesting to watch the ghosts get their butts kicked instead of running away with the panicking crowds. Then there was also the time he and the other kids from school had joined forces and kicked ghostly ass on board an actual pirate ship in an attempt to rescue their parents (and seriously, how many kids across America could say they did THAT in high school?) but it was much safer being on the sidelines.
He was getting his entertainment's worth tonight though. This battle had been more interesting than usual. Phantom had been taking on this giant ghost that kept shooting ecto-blasts and weird little darts. The battle was in the warehouse district not too far from the school – which was how Dash found out about it in the first place. He'd looked out the window as he gathered his gear from the locker room after practice and saw the ghostly equivalent of a neon sign with an arrow screaming 'fight this way'. All he'd had to do was follow the green flashes of light.
It had been fun at first, but he was starting to regret his decision to follow them; several shots had struck the structures around him, not to mention a few ecto-plasmic splatters decorating the street. Dash had already had to run to avoid two falling tree branches (and one entire TREE, how screwed up was THAT?), a no-longer-parked car, the red-and-white striped awning off a nearby store and a dump truck's worth of bricks from an apartment building.
Still, it was kinda worth it – danger and all – to see his hero live in action. Phantom was streaking like greased lightning across the sky, firing multiple blasts at the green specters who had joined the party. Dash jogged across the street for a better view - he was just in time to see Phantom split himself in two to take down two green blobs that apparently specialized in clichés and took the forms of sheet-wearing cartoon ghosts. Dash rummaged through his pockets for his phone – a video of this fight was sure to go viral in no time—
"Dash! Look out!"
Dash looked up in time to see Phantom swoop in front of a blast from a third ghost. It knocked the ghost-boy back into the side of an elderly Buick but this time, ghost-boy didn't go through it. He certainly dented it though, crushing the side wall with his impact. Dash hadn't even know physical tackles like that could hurt a ghost. Mouth open, he watched Phantom's eyes slowly fall shut.
For a moment, his body remained upright, the ghost-boy gasping in pain, before he slowly fell forward, landing on his hands. The attacking ghost had something in his own hands though and swept forward again. It dove through the upper corner of the store that had lost its awning, twisted into a spiral and shot back down the alley, aiming at the ghost-boy – and actually going THROUGH Phantom this time. Dash blinked hard, watching the trail end of the specter hook its tail as it pushed through Phantom's suit, making Phantom freeze in place, jaw dropped in a silent, agonized scream.
The screeching green ghost disappeared into the dumpster and presumably into the building behind it. Dash scanned the sky looking for it, figuring if it was gonna make a return, it'd be from up high to do another strafing run or something. That was when he heard a choked shout finally escape his hero.
Turning back, he saw Phantom was now on one knee, clutching his chest, an agonized look on his face. His free hand dug into the ground, gloved fingers twisting spasmodically – almost like he was being electrocuted. His head dropped and his whole body began to shudder, coughing gasps tearing out of his throat. It sounded awful.
Dash gulped and took a step forward. He raised one hand and then lowered it, unsure of what he should be doing in this particular situation. Did a ghost require first aid? Would he even accept his help? While he had watched a lot of Phantom's battles, he'd never actually interacted with the Ghost-Boy before. He cleared his throat nervously. "Um… Dude.. Phantom. You okay?"
Phantom's head snapped up and his eyes zeroed in on Dash. "I sh-should be asking you that," the ghost-boy gasped. Still in obvious pain, he nonetheless managed to level a stern look at Dash. "W-what are you even doing out h-here?"
Cold. "Hey, for all you know, I live around here," Dash countered easily. He took another step, double-checking for loose brick and rock under his feet. "Seriously, you look like you're hurt." He reached out, intending to offer an arm, or a shoulder or something.
Phantom straightened up, backing away slightly at the offered help and giving him a dry look. "Ghosts don't get hurt," he grunted - and then he was gone. Literally gone. He disappeared. Completely vanished. Dash hadn't even had a chance to ask how the legendary Phantom knew his name. He waved his hand halfheartedly in the air, wondering for a moment if he'd just turned invisible but there was nothing there. Feeling disappointed at being denied the opportunity to learn more about his hero, Dash gave into the urge and kicked a few of the loose bricks. One hit the dumpster with a metallic ring that made him wince and stop right there.
"I still wanna know how he knew my name," he muttered, and shrugged. "Maybe he's a football fan." Or maybe Phantom just kept tabs on the kids at Casper High – he certainly turned up there enough. Paulina – in a rare moment of intelligence - had once speculated that maybe the Phantom was the ghost of a previous student who had died there, which was a little sad. And sounded off to Dash, considering how alive Phantom seemed to sound during battles. Dash shrugged – none of his business, right? Turning to leave, he stopped as he heard something.
A final wall had apparently given out, and the drywall of a building collapsed into the alley. Dash whistled as he watched the debris settle, and stepped back, coughing a couple of times in the dust that was raised. It was probably a good idea to beat feet and get back to more stable territory. Then his head cocked to the side.
There was definitely a loud, moaning sound coming from the alleyway. Dash knew what sounds of pain actually sounded like. Between picking on the wimpy little nerds at school (they REALLY needed to toughen up a bit or life was going to tear them APART) and both dishing out/receiving hard hits during football games, he was well acquainted with the sounds one made when in intense pain. This was not a ghost moan or a moan of someone having a bit too much fun in an alley. This was definitely a sound of pain.
Dash stomped around the corner, raising an eyebrow when he didn't immediately see someone. He flicked his gaze around the alley and then paused at the dumpster. Under the dust and the random brick-a-brack, he could see a pair of twitching legs. Had someone actually been next to the warehouse when the wall had crumbled?
Darting forward, Dash called out, "Hang on, I'll get you out." There were bricks and debris all over the place, just like there'd been around Phantom and while he still intended to help the person, he had no intention of risking a broken ankle this close to the Championships. He passed the dumpster and looked down – whoever it was, was trapped under the slab of cracked drywall, and a couple of splintered two-by-fours. "Shit, maybe I better call 9-1-1…"
"No…." came a weak plea. Dash stopped in the act of pulling out his cell phone. "Please... Just help…. help me out. Please?"
For some reason, the voice sounded oddly familiar. "You sure? " Dash lifted the top piece of wood up carefully and tossed it to the side. When nothing moved or fell, he breathed a sigh of relief and gripped the second two-by-four. A moment later all that was left was the sheet of drywall.
"I'm sure…. Honest…." A hitched breath and whimper. "Please…"
That did not sound good. "Whatever. But you'd better not try and sue me later," Dash grumbled. He reached down and grabbed the side of the wall section, flexing his knees and lifting carefully. He pushed straight up, hoping the damn thing wouldn't crumble in his hands. Looking down, he froze – and tried desperately not to drop it. "Fen-turd?"
Danny Fenton was lying on the ground, covered in debris and curled up. His legs were still twitching and his eyes were half-closed, but Dash could still see the pain etched into his face. "D-Dash? Just my luck…" A half-smile tried to creep onto his face but a spasm seemed to take over him and his whole body shuddered. His eyes shut as he began to pant for air.
"Open your eyes, Fenton! Now!" Dash snapped and he tossed the slab aside. Crouching down, he tried to see if there was any blood anywhere. "Where are you hurt?"
A wheezing sort of laugh escaped the injured boy. "W-what do you care?" Danny gasped. "You did…. Good deed…. Can go n-now…."
Dash snorted. "Yeah, that's gonna happen. I stash you in lockers, I don't leave you half-dead in alleys. Believe it or not, there is a difference." Another wheezing laugh. Dash had no idea what the moron found to be so funny, but enough was enough. He pulled his phone out again. "I'm calling the paramedics."
"NO." Danny managed a firmer voice this time and actually tried to reach for Dash's arm. "I'm… okay. Really." He failed to reach Dash and his arm dropped back to his stomach.
The movement, however stupid, at least showed no blood but Dash had actually paid enough attention in heath class to realize that Fenton could have serious internal injuries. "And you must think I am TRULY an idiot if you think I'm gonna buy that," Dash growled. "A fucking building fell on you, Fenton. You can't even stand up." The younger man's jeans were torn, and his t-shirt was hanging off one shoulder, reminding Dash just how damn skinny Fenton was – didn't that friggin' dork know how to eat? Seriously, it was just disturbing.
Danny chuckled, amazingly. "What are… the odds?" His eyes opened and he looked pleadingly at Dash. "My pocket…. Phone… call Sam… or T-Tucker…"
"I need to call your parents." Dash reluctantly reached forward and shoved a corner of Danny's t-shirt aside to reach his pocket. Thankfully the phone was half out which saved him from having to make the situation any more awkward. He flipped it open and began checking the contacts list. "You must be completely brain-damaged if you don't understand how badly we need an actual adult to handle this situation."
"Dash… I'm b-begging you…" Danny's hand came up again and this time managed to actually grab hold of Dash's wrist. His skin was cold, scary cold, and Dash froze in place. "Call Sam. P-please."
Dash stared at Danny's shaking hand for a moment before heaving a huge sigh of irritation. This had not been on his agenda for the night. Practice had ended an hour ago. Watching the battle was only supposed to derail him from his schedule by fifteen minutes at the most (Phantom was usually very considerate in that he wrapped things up so quickly). He was then supposed to go home, call Paulina and brag about his interaction with the one and only Phantom and give her the required details so she could update her locker shrine. He was not supposed to spend his time debating who to call for help for one of his weekly locker stuffing victims. "If you try and die on me, Fenton, I will kill you myself."
Another raspy chuckle, fainter this time. "Whatever y-you say…"
Calling the Goth chick was an exercise in torture. Once she knew it was Fenton who was hurt and under his care, she had turned into a hissing, spitting ball of rage, threatening him over the phone with her family lawyers if he did anything to the injured boy and eventually, Dash had just hung up on her. And turned the phone off. She had directions, she didn't need him on the line.
"I seriously don't know how you put up with that raving psycho," Dash muttered aloud, shoving Danny's phone into his own jacket pocket. He could give it to the Goth chick when she arrived instead of upping the awk-weirdness of this situation by trying to put it back in Danny's jeans pocket.
"Easy… " Danny rasped. "She likes me… h-hates you. Me'n Tuck…. Safe."
"Yeah, sure, laugh it up." Dash shot the boy a wary look. Nothing seemed to be jutting out, everything was where it should be as far as he could tell, and Danny's eyes – what he could see of them – were somewhat clear but drooping. "Eyes open. Don't make me tell you again."
Danny didn't answer this time but his eyes suddenly widened. He was staring up at the sky, an angry look on his face. Dash followed his gaze and blanched – a giant green eagle was swooping in circles overhead. "Ghost?"
Danny shot him a quick look. "How'd you know?"
"It's a giant green bird," Dash snapped at him. He looked around for some sort of weapon, though what good would anything in the alley do against a ghost? "Somehow I don't think it's just a rare species." That and the fact that it was flying through the telephone wires but shouting that out would be a tad overkill. "I don't suppose you have any of your family's ghost-fighting gear on you?" That would probably be asking for too much luck.
"Nope," came the soft response. "Help me up." Dash looked down. Danny was trying to straighten out, wincing with pain as he did so. He tried to uncurl his torso, and a small cry escaped him. "Shit!"
So Fen-turd DID know how to swear. "Stay down, you idiot!" Dash grabbed a two-by-four. Unlikely to work, better than nothing. He shot Danny a warning look, nudging him back down with his foot. "You look like a stiff breeze could take you out."
"A-and you think a wooden stick… gonna help you?" Danny was back to wheezing and now Dash could see something red beneath the boy's fingers on his stomach. "I told you, help me up."
"Shut up," Dash said absently, watching the bird continue to circle. "I don't take orders from geeks." It was watching them, and the very sight made him want to crawl under the dumpster. He knew his logic was flawed, that if it truly wanted him, it would get him through the solid metal, but he didn't care. Every flap of its giant wings was bringing it closer and closer, a deathly spiral towards their location, and he desperately wanted some kind of cover.
Dash hefted the board nervously, digging his fingers into the splintering wood. Suddenly the eagle screeched; a long hideous-sounding noise that sent cold chills down Dash's spine. Then it was diving towards them, wings spread and talons extended. Dash snarled and swung the two-by-four like a baseball bat. The bird disappeared just as the wood impacted against it, side-swiping him and sending him crashing against the dumpster. His ears rang from the hit and the sound. He shook his head and looked up again - it was visible and circling around for another run. Dash looked for something, anything, to throw, but the board had been shredded by razor-sharp talons and the bricks were apt to be just as useless.
Another screech that raised the hair on the back of his neck. Dash looked up in time to see the claws inbound towards his face and he threw his arms up to block automatically. Suddenly there was a flash of green - he lowered his arms and watched as a stream of green light shot out from behind him and struck the bird dead center. The ghostly creature wailed as it dissipated into a kind of floating goo. The green mass shot back up into the air, apparently to try and reform itself.
Dash looked down to see Danny staring up at the sky, his arm extended and green fire dripping from his fingertips. "F-Fenton?"
Danny looked at him, wide-eyed, but then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and his arm dropped.
Dropping to the ground, Dash quickly moved Danny's arm and saw the red blotch he'd spotted earlier. It was growing, spreading across Danny's chest to his stomach from what he could see beneath the shreds of his t-shirt. Trying very hard not to hyperventilate in the wake of what he'd witnessed, he looked around, hoping to see Goth Girl or even Techno Geek, because he now knew he was truly in over his head and he wasn't afraid to admit it now. Then his eyes caught something else. Dash stared at the unconscious boy whose arm was suddenly PHASING THROUGH THE GROUND. He blinked, and then blinked again. "The hell?" he gasped. "Fenton?"
The boy grunted and his eyes opened a mere sliver – but that was more than enough for Dash to see the bright green glowing at him. "Hmmm…?"
"You… your arm…" Dash took a deep breath. He pushed away the urge to vomit there in the alley, and tried to focus on the fact that his classmate was missing a section of his forearm due to the fact that it was ghosting right through the floor of said alley."Can you lift your arm?"
Danny looked confused, totally out of synch with reality. "Think so…" he whispered, and did as he was told. The moment his arm cleared the ground, it seemed to solidify. Dash almost whimpered with relief when Fenton's fingers brushed against the rock and it crumbled away. "Can't… hold it up…" Fenton's fingers were trembling. Actually, his whole arm and body was shaking. He didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary though, peering up at Dash with a dazed expression.
Fucking HELL. "You… You can put it down, Fenton," Dash said numbly. "Just… don't relax too much. Stay awake."
"Always… always telling me… wha' to do," Danny slurred, and his eyes blinked. Blue. Green. Blue. Wait – what?
Fenton's eyes were blue. The light wasn't great in the alley, the remaining walls of the building blocking out the streetlights. Yeah. That was it.
Dash closed his own eyes and continued to take deep breaths. The Goth girl would be there soon and he could forget what he'd just seen. His mind was whirling, feverishly connecting dots he did not want connected and he firmly pushed those thoughts away, refusing to deal with it at the moment. "You bet your ass I am," he said faintly, and then shook his head. He forced himself to speak stronger. "Stay awake or being stuffed in a locker will be a pleasant memory compared to what I will do with you."
"…'kay."
Yeah, Sam, Tucker, hell, he'd even take Lancer at this point.
His prayers were answered a second later as Sam appeared in the mouth of the alleyway. "Danny!" she shouted, and shoved Dash out of the way, landing on her knees by the injured boy. Reaching into her backpack, she yanked out a black sweater and roughly folded it into a pillow for the injured boy. Tucker the Techno-geek had been right behind her, and he had something – was that a thermos? – in his hands, watching the sky.
"What was it?" Techno-Geek – no, Tucker – looked at Dash with wide eyes.
"Some kind of… eagle? I guess?" Dash wasn't truly paying attention. Sam had pulled Danny's shirt up to see the damage, and the red splotch had spread to Danny's sides.
He sat back and just observed. Sam pulled her own cell out and hit a speed-dial number while asking Danny what was wrong, and where it hurt. Dash shook himself and leaned down, pulling Danny's hands away from his stomach. "I don't know what that red stuff is, but it's getting bigger. It started smaller." Sam blinked at him and then repeated what he'd said into the phone.
"Look out!" Tucker shouted, and the little geek actually jumped on top of Dash and Sam pressing them to the ground as the re-formed ghost-eagle swept through the alley, whipping up the debris into the air as it passed. His knee was digging into Dash's back. Dust was getting into his nose, making him want to sneeze. "I'll get it!"
He'll what? Dash pushed himself up and stared at the geek, watching almost numbly as he took the lid off the odd-looking metallic thermos. Tucker calmly aimed it at the bird who was wheeling about in the sky, about to make yet another return. He pressed something, and a beam of green light shot out, striking the bird the same way that… Fenton… Dash pushed the thought away again and sat there somewhat stupefied as the eagle was caught in the strange green beam. It thrashed and tried to pull away but eventually it was sucked right into the thermos, and Techno-Geek – no, Tucker – screwed the lid back in place.
"Vlad! Danny's got blood blossoms in his system!" Goth-girl – no, Sam – was screeching into her phone, totally focused on the red bloom spreading across Danny's abs. Danny's eyes were closed again, and Dash leaned forward. This, he could handle.
"Eyes open!" he barked, and was rewarded with Fenton's eyes snapping open instantly. Dash had no idea what was going on – how Tucker caught a ghost, what the hell was a blood blossom, who was Vlad, why did Danny's arm disappear and his hand drip fire (well, he was starting to catch an idea but he was refusing to acknowledge it for the time being in order to retain some semblance of sanity) – but he knew that Danny falling asleep could be a very bad thing.
Sam was shooting him an evil look. "You can go now," she said grimly. One hand was pressed lightly against Danny's stomach. The other clutched the phone. Someone was shouting obscenities through the speaker – Dash could hear them faintly over the pounding of his own blood through his system.
Tucker kneeled by Danny's head, giving him a hard look, which was odd in that Tucker had never been able to actually look him in the eyes before, much less with a look that resembled authority. "We can handle it from here."
Dash snorted, somewhat amused despite everything. "I'm not going anywhere until Fenton gets medical treatment." He was pretty sure leaving the scene of a crime or an accident before the authorities arrived was illegal or something. He needed a clean record if he wanted a decent shot at a scholarship. And for some reason, he felt a need to make sure his favorite punching bag got help. It had nothing to do with the evil, traitorous thoughts that were slowly putting together unauthorized theories in his head that needed confirmation. He squelched those thoughts immediately. Again.
Goth-Girl looked like she was ten seconds away from clawing his eyes out, but the shouts from the phone re-attracted her attention and then she was describing the alleyway, giving the closest intersection. Apparently someone was on their way. Dash looked down at Danny who was trying to maintain eye contact with Tucker. The Techno-Geek was gripping Fenton's shoulders, trying to keep him from curling up and possibly doing more damage to his mid-section.
"Vlad's sending help," Sam said to Danny, who looked almost relieved to hear the news. Dash didn't know who this Vlad person was, but he hoped the dude was fast. Real fast. Danny was going as white as a—well, he was getting paler by the second. Dash was certain there had to be internal injuries – he couldn't see any blood at all but the bright red bruising that was definitely not blood on Danny's stomach was growing scary-fast.
"Who's Vlad?" Dash couldn't help but ask.
Sam seemed to loom over him in an instant, shooting daggers with her eyes. "A friend," she growled. "Now get lost! You are not wanted here!" Her fingers twitched around the phone, and Dash had the distinct impression that she was envisioning them around his throat.
Obviously she didn't know he didn't scare that easy when it didn't involve ghosts. "Tough shit, Goth-Girl!" Dash snarled back. "I was first on the scene, I'm a witness to what happened, and I have no intention of letting Fenton die on my watch. Like I need his death on my permanent record!" Which was a weak excuse but something fucking weird was going on and Dash wasn't leaving until he got answers – whether he wanted them or not.
Sam actually lost the ability to speak, she was so enraged. Tucker took over for her. "We'll explain what happened—"
"You don't know what happened," Dash cut in rudely. "Were you here? No! I was."
"W-would …. You two.. s-shut up…" Everyone fell silent as the wounded teen suddenly spoke up, sounding both pained and fed up. Dash watched Danny flinch as another spasm shot through him, and he tried to curl up again. Tucker already had his shoulders – Dash pressed gently but firmly down on Fenton's legs, trying to keep him in one position.
Suddenly there was a whip-whip-whipping sound, and a roar filled the air. Dash covered his eyes with one arm as a blast of wind shot down the alley. Tucker covered Danny's face and Sam stood up, screaming for all she was worth, waving her arms like a wild woman.
Apparently the wind was the rescue team. But it wasn't the kind of rescue team Dash was expecting. He'd seen paramedics before. Two years before, Kwan had taken a nasty tackle and had broken the fifth sacrum in his back. Dash had heard him cry out in pain and had stayed by his friend's side as the coach called 9-1-1. An emergency team had jogged right out onto the field, wearing the blue and yellow uniforms of Amity Park rescue services. They had strapped Kwan to an orange backboard and hustled out to a waiting ambulance that had taken him to the hospital.
This? Was nothing like that.
A group of four men jogged into the alleyway with a backboard, but they were all wearing black suits and sunglasses even though it was nearly nine o'clock at night. One of them was carrying a hypodermic needle that he immediately uncovered and then unceremoniously jammed into Fenton's shoulder. The kid watched hazily, clearly not comprehending – and then he shot bolt upright, right through both Dash and Tucker's grip, screaming in pain, trying to twist away from them. Then his voice cut out, and he flopped backwards like a puppet with his strings cut. The Techno-Geek caught his head before it could hit the ground. Dash had almost let go at the sheer volume of the scream, but renewed his grip on Danny's legs as he'd felt the kid trying to kick free. Pain must have increased his strength because Dash found himself pushing down with nearly all of his strength. That was fucking WEIRD.
Suddenly Dash was gently but very powerfully moved aside to let the men transfer Danny to the backboard and then they were standing, moving swiftly out to the main road where a –Holy Christ. Dash sucked in a breath as he realized the roaring wind was coming from a helicopter. A huge, sleek, black, frankly gorgeous machine. Dash scanned the side and saw DALV stenciled on the side in green paint. What the hell was DALV?
Danny was quickly being loaded, and Tucker and Sam were being ushered in after him. Dash swore under his breath – curiosity and his damnable need to know what they hell was up with Fenton's arm was going to get him killed one day, he just knew it. Then he was moving, smoothly jumping into the copter right behind Tucker. Sam actually stood up, like she was planning on shoving him right back out.
Before they could argue, Dash pointed at Fenton, switching his gaze from Sam to Tucker and back. "I come, or I start asking everyone at school if they've ever seen green fire come out of Fenton's hand before."
Sam went white. Tucker dropped his schoolbag to the copter floor with a loud *THUNK*. "What did you say?" Tucker choked out.
Dash glared at them, including the men in black. "You heard me," he said calmly. "I saw a lot of things I want answers to."
Sam and Tucker exchanged looks that seemed almost terrified. Dash scanned the copter and all of them men were exchanging looks too. The helicopter jerked suddenly, and then they were in the air. Dash relaxed a fraction. Unless they were planning on pushing him out, he was going along for the ride.
He found an empty jump seat and began strapping himself in. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to see Sam and Tucker glaring at him in confusion. He raised an eyebrow. ""What?"
"How do you know how to strap yourself into a helicopter?" Tucker asked, eyes wide.
"My cousin is a pilot," Dash replied curtly. He nodded at them. "You might wanna follow my lead since this is an army helicopter and there are no doors on this side of this model to close."
"What?" Tucker shrieked as the helicopter swerved right and he was looking straight down over the rooftops of Amity Park. A large man in black reached over to help as Tuckers hands had apparently (and permanently) fused to one of the roll bars.
Dash ignored the scenery and focused back on Fenton, who was unconscious for good this time, laying flat on the board at the far side. One man in black had hooked him up to an IV that was draining… green goo? Into his arm. Goo. IN his ARM. Dash rubbed his eyes and leaned closer, staring at the stuff. It kinda looked like that crud that bird had melted into after Fenton had blasted-
Nope. Dash closed his eyes and sat back. Not ready to go there yet. But as for going… He opened his eyes and sought out the nearest man in black. "Where are we going, sir?" Army 'copter, could be military-trained men he was addressing and he knew enough from his cousin not to try matching toughness with armed men. Geeks and dweebs were one thing. Trained professionals were another. That boxy shape in their pockets were not cell phones – he'd bet his rather expensive allowance on that.
The man Dash assumed was the leader was sitting at the head of the backboard. He was also the only one wearing a helmet and was muttering in a low voice over the communications line to whomever was in charge of this little rescue group. He wasn't paying any attention at all to the three teens on the helicopter. The man Dash addressed his question to smirked and looked out the window. No answers there.
"Think of it as a military exercise," Sam snapped at him, drawing his attention back to her. Her face was pale, her eyes wild. "And you're the stowaway we have to get rid of."
"That'd be a good guess if these guys were military," Dash shot back, and gave a satisfied smirk of his own as his answer seemed to surprise her.
She exchanged yet another look with the Techno-Punk and then looked back at Dash. "You don't think these guys are military?" she asked cautiously, suddenly calm, and that was almost as scary as the rage had been. He shook his head in answer to her question. "Why?"
"For one thing, helicopters don't have company names painted on them," he pointed out smugly. Sam rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh before motioning him to continue. "These guys aren't wearing military gear, and the Amity park Police Force can't even afford new squad cars, much less a helicopter." Dash saw the men in black watching him carefully now. He swallowed hard. "I'm thinking private security. Someone rich. Which makes sense, considering how much your family is worth, Gotherita."
One of the men in black chuckled. "He's got a brain."
"Except it's damaged by too many footballs to the head," Sam retorted. "My family owns a jet, not a helicopter, and it is currently ferrying my parents to the Bahamas. You're only half right."
Dash shrugged. "Whatever. The main question is, what rich person does Danny know, and why did you call them instead of his parents?"
That shut up Sam, and the men in black were suddenly once again all business. Tucker looked down at his PDA.
Well, Dash thought. THAT was interesting.
The helicopter continued on.
End Part 1
Part 2 coming soon!
Side note - I'm only partway through the series (just finished Pirate Radio) so if there are any major reveals or canons in future eps, consider them null and void. And I'm not actually interested in canon reveals right now as I have my own plot in mind.
Feedback always loved and appreciated!