I watch the last of them run off, too cowardly to fight.
Sheathing my weapons, I can't help but puzzle over humans. Why is it that so many of them stumble off the straight and narrow path, but are unprepared to accept the consequences of their fall? A sigh escapes me. I suppose that they will never be able to understand half of my actions either, so there is no use in concerning myself with that.
I am about to turn away when I feel an unfamiliar presence behind me. I would normally draw my swords and prepare for battle, but I feel no real danger from the figure behind me. Still, I have been seen, and so must be careful. One can never be too sure of his safety when one happens to be a ninja turtle.
I turn swiftly, my hand lashing out and clamping down on someone's shoulder. He cries out, surprised but unhurt, and I can see a pair of human eyes widen at me in the gloom. It doesn't take long for me to realize that I didn't even have to reach up to grab at him, and a look at his face confirms my suspicions; he's only a young boy, age eleven at most.
"Hey, easy," he pleads, seeing my sudden movement as a threat. "I didn't mean to sneak up on ya, honest!" Releasing him, I feel a small smile form on my lips. "Sneak up? Sorry, but you can't exactly sneak up on a ninja." He rubs his shoulder, and I wonder if I had inadvertently hurt him. Squinting at me in the darkness, his voice becomes excited. "Ninja? Wow, so you are the same guy that Tyler told me about!"
"What guy?"
"Your name's Raphael, right?"
I blink in surprise. "Raphael?" How on earth does this boy know about Raphael? I can only guess as to how my aggressive brother managed to gain a fanbase from a teenaged boy and his friend named Tyler. "No," I clarify. "Raphael's my brother… though I have the feeling I might regret owning up to that soon enough."
"That's right," the boy remarks, more to himself than to me. "Tyler said something about him having a family." His eyes return to mine. "My name's Walker. I'm Tyler's cousin. Your brother Raphael helped save him and his mom from the mob a few months ago." I feel the surprise overcome me once again. "Save them from the mob?" I ask, wondering exactly what went on and why Raphael decided to keep this to himself. "My brother? Really?"
Walker's face seems to sadden. "Yeah. Didn't he tell you? He helped Ty kick some mafia butt because they kidnapped Aunt Sophie because she had some info that'd lock 'em all up. Ty thought for sure that it'd be exciting enough for Raphael to tell all his brothers about it, and even his dad, when they found him. Hey, did you guys ever find your dad?"
So that's it. During one of his frustrated outings over the course of Sensei's disappearance (or rather, his unknown rehabilitation with the Utroms), Raphael must have encountered Tyler and found out about his missing mother. Being able to commiserate, Raphael volunteered to help him. That's why he never told us; he never was fond of letting any of us know that, underneath that tough attitude, he actually had a heart. A part of me can't wait to bring it up to Michelangelo. That should teach Raph to keep secrets from me.
"Yes, we found him," I tell him quietly. "And my name is Leonardo, by the way." He held out his hand to me, and I saw that he was waiting for me to shake it. I have to wonder how much this Tyler raved about Raphael for his cousin to simply trust me so completely. I shake his hand as he hesitantly asks me, "So… do you guys only come out when people go missing or something?"
His words confuse me for only a second. "Have you lost someone? Are you in danger?" Shoving his hands into the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, he notes, "Jeez, what're you guys, like the Justice Turtles or something?" I look at him quizzically as I state, "A simple yes or no would have sufficed." I am about to turn away from him when he hurriedly grabs my arm. "Whoa! Wait! No, a joke! That was totally a joke! Haha, see?"
I gaze at him in the dimness. His eyes flash with a moment of fear and desperation before he manages to cover them up with the façade of confidence. Judging by the sarcasm overlaying the almost begrudging acknowledgement of needing help, it seems as though dealing with this boy won't be too dissimilar from dealing with Raphael. Wonderful. I can hardly wait. "It can't be too much of a joke," I say, "if it made you approach a strange figure in the dark in hopes that it would be the same person who rescued your aunt and cousin."
He looks down and steps away from me before saying anything. Finally, he raises his eyes to meet mine once again. "It's Tyler." I say nothing in response, waiting for more information. "He told me that he was gonna meet me at the pizza place an hour after school. When I got there, he didn't show. No one's seen him. His mom's really freaking out, but the cops around here are idiots and not doing anything. They're saying he ran away, but that's only because they don't know him."
"How long has he been gone?"
Walker takes a deep breath before saying, "Tonight's the second night." I think on it for a moment. A boy with recent connections to the mafia is suddenly gone for two nights, and the police are writing him off as a runaway? It seems that Walker is correct in saying that the police are certainly being idiots.
Crossing my arms over my chest in contemplation, I inquire, "When was the last time you've seen him?" Walker appears relieved, taking my questions to mean that I'll help him. In truth, I hadn't been intending to actually leave him behind in the first place. "I haven't seen him since this weekend," he answers. "But I talked to him on the phone the afternoon he went missing. He said he had something really cool to show me, but didn't give me any hints about what it was."
I ask if Tyler had been calling from his house, and Walker answers affirmatively. Turning the facts over in my mind, I murmur, "Gone for two days just as he was about to share 'something cool' that he had been secretive about. This does not bode well."
After a few moments of me quietly mulling over what I knew, Walker surprises me with a seemingly random question. "So, uh… are you like the serious older brother or something?" I glance down at him and respond, "Something to that effect, yes." Walker then rolls his eyes. "Jeez, I bet if Raphael was here, he would already be running around the city, calling Tyler's name and getting his kung-fu ready." Not hiding my mild amusement, I reply, "I don't doubt it. But what would happen if Tyler's in the hands of some bad guys who don't want to get found out? What happens to him then?"
Walker remains silent, thinking over my proposed scenario. Putting a hand on his shoulder in much the way I've done with my brothers in the past, I tell him, "I'm not going to lie to you. Sometimes it's good to plunge blindly ahead. Roaring at some animals intimidates them. Roaring at others, however, simply antagonizes them. Raphael's path worked well for his situation with Tyler. Maybe Karma decided to team me up with you because my tactics are better-suited for whatever might be going on."
Walker still says nothing, simply looking at me and considering my words. His brown eyes are large and, I see now, telltale of his entire personality. He is a scared boy. An insecure boy. And he only puts on this mask of bravery and haughtiness now because he feels he needs to in order to save his cousin. I wonder how often my brothers and I put on the very same mask.
"Hmph," he finally says sarcastically, breaking his eye contact with me. "Just my luck to get stuck with the lecturing turtle instead of the cool one." I break out into a smile. He's purposely goading me. Tyler must have told him how well this works on Raphael, and so he is testing it on me, since it's the only defense he currently has. Little does he realize that Raphael is my polar opposite. "Just tell me the location of this pizza place you were supposed to meet him at," I almost laugh. "Then we'll see how much lecturing I bore you with once we have some leads."
More grateful than he let on, Walker leads me away.
We stop at Sal's Pizzeria, just a few blocks away.
"This is it," Walker breathes as I hide in the cover of a large dumpster. "I waited for him for nearly two hours here. I asked Sal if he saw Ty, and he said he didn't. He told the cops the same thing the next day." Sal's is one of Casey's favorite pizza places. I think his son used to go to school with Case, way back when Case actually went to school. I don't doubt that Sal was telling the truth. So whatever happened to Tyler, it happened somewhere between his house and Sal's.
"Where does Tyler live?" I ask. Walker tells me that he lives on the same street, about four blocks away. I look in the direction that Walker points me to. Nothing but houses, small shops, an elementary school, and a library. I can't even make out a single alleyway, which is rare for New York City. No parks, no particularly dark stretches of sidewalk… there was no way Tyler could have been kidnapped on his way to the pizzeria from his house in broad daylight without at least one witness. Even if a car had driven up and he was snatched inside, chances are that someone would have seen him, especially if school had let out not long before. …unless….
"Hey, whatcha thinking?" Without looking at Walker, I answer, "That maybe we're looking in the wrong place." I think it over a little more, then bring up, "If Tyler had been so excited to show you 'something cool,' he wouldn't have told you to wait an hour after school. He would have ran home, picked it up, called you, and told you to meet him right away. Maybe he needed that extra hour because he didn't have it… and he needed to go somewhere else to get it."
Walker and I remained silent, thinking over this new revelation. Finally, I ask, "Did Tyler have any place where he kept things that he didn't want found? Like a secret clubhouse or something?" Walker raises an eyebrow at me. "Secret clubhouse? C'mon, turtle, Ty's a kid, but he ain't five years old or nothing. He's a year younger than me."
I give him a long, steady look until he finally relents to think it over. "The only thing I can think of is the movie theatre on Crossbay," he tells me at length. "They closed it down a few years ago. He told me that he found out that that's where the high school kids go to drink 'n stuff, and he kept hinting that he hangs out there when they're gone. Something about going on ghost hunts and stuff like that."
Crossbay isn't too far. Crouching down, I tell Walker, "Climb onto my back." He asks, "Huh?" I look at him. "What, did you expect us to take the city bus over there? Trust me." He yields, quietly mumbling something about the weirdness of him trusting a giant turtle. Hoping that he'll eventually remember that he solicited me for my help, I make sure he's secure before running off and jumping for a fire escape. "Whoa!" Walker cries out. "Why you going up?"
Laughing, I respond, "It's the only way to travel."
"Oh man, that was so awesome!"
Walker is breathing heavily by the time I put him down on the corner of Crossbay Boulevard, the excitement getting the best of him. Searching around with my eyes, I can see the boarded up remains of the movie theatre. "Right," I say absently. "Now, do you know how to get in?"
He looks at me, puzzled, before realizing that I'm still referencing the case at hand. "Jeez, you really don't let up, do ya? Didja ever learn how to have fun?" I look down at him, wondering for a moment just how urgently he wants his cousin back. "Fun is celebrating after a victory," I tell him. "For now, you've asked me to find Tyler, and I'm willingly helping you." Knowing that I had a point, he nevertheless begrudgingly shoves his hands in his pockets and sprints for the theatre. I think that he is running off on me, but follow when I hear his voice say, "Over here."
Around the back, there is a boarded window missing a single plank of wood. A small boy would be able to squeeze in and out of the building through there. I can only imagine how the high school teenagers sneak in. Walker pulls at the next slab of wood, unsuccessfully attempting to get it to budge. "Ugh! No good. I might be able to squeeze in my gut and pull through, but that shell of yours is gonna have a problem. Maybe we should find another entrance."
He steps away as I unsheathe one of my swords. "I make my own entrances." The boy peers back at me just as my strong blades cut through the wood as though trimming a hedge. Another surprised "whoa" is murmured from him, and I leap into the newly-widened opening. I turn and watch him scramble in after me. "Okay, okay," he whispers lightly. "So you've got the cool swords. I'll give ya that much." Turning back to the theatre, I breathe back, "Thanks."
I can smell stale cigarettes and other substances in the air. I wrinkle my nose, trying not to be horrified at the thought of a young boy "playing" in a place like this. "If I were a kid," I say quietly to myself, "where would I keep 'something cool?'" Realizing that my question doesn't need to be rhetorical, I look down at Walker. "What?" Walker asks. "I ain't no kid!"
"One day, you'll learn something about double negatives," I tell him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "For now, you just lead me to where you think he would go." Together, we begin to make our way through the remnant of this old movie house.
"I don't like this place," Walker suddenly says, his voice sounding truly scared for the first time since I met him. "I mean… the weird sounds and stuff… this place was closed down because of a murder, y'know. And… Tyler says that ghosts-" Knowing the importance of silence throughout all of my excursions to the outside world, I interrupt him. "Look, I can understand you being scared, but if you honestly expect me to believe in ghosts-" He cut me off in turn. "Hey, if I can believe that a giant kung-fu turtle can help me find my cousin, then I think I'm entitled to believe in just about anything else, okay?"
I can't help but laugh. "Fine. Then there are ghosts. I've had to deal with far worse things, so you have nothing to worry about." He looks up at me, and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he expects some sort of story behind what I said. I'm about to actually offer him one while looking about, but my voice dies in my throat when I hear a strange sound.
Walker stops, pulling me back with him. "W… what was that?" Being thankful that living in the sewers provides me with ample night vision, I scan the perimeter. It doesn't take long for me to realize that the sound is coming from a partially-opened door behind what used to be the concessions counter.
Jumping the counter, I tell Walker to stay where he is. Suddenly terrified, he disobeys me and follows after me. "No way! Only stupid people split up in the horror movies!" Putting my hand over his mouth as I hear a chilling hissing sound, I sternly inform him, "This isn't a horror movie! This is real life, and I'm not going to risk something happening to an innocent boy just because the wrong people hear our voices. So stay quiet!"
This does little to appease him. In fact, it only makes him all the more aggressive. He pushes my hand away and punches me in the stomach with his small fist. More shocked than hurt, I step away from him and he darts past me, headed straight for the open door. "Walker!" I call in an insistent whisper. He ignores me and crashes down the stairs on the other side of the door. "Tyler?" I hear him call with an air of faux bravery. "Ty, are ya down here?"
Wondering how on Earth Raphael managed to deal with a child from the same bloodline without causing him some bodily harm, I quickly make my way to the door and silently edge down the stairs, sticking to the shadows. The basement is devoid of all light except for what little manages to pour in from the open door. The hissing I heard becomes louder. I know that sound. And I don't like it.
I can make out Walker's small shadow looking around, pushing boxes and other assorted things away in his search. He moves away and frantically dashes to another corner, apparently seeing something I don't. Moving closer, I see something white reflecting the little light in the room. I wonder for a moment if this is the "ghost," before I realize what it actually is. A white t-shirt. A white t-shirt being worn by what looks like a small boy.
I stay back as Walker kneels by the small form. "Tyler!" Walker apparently turns back to me, ignorant of the sound that appears to be getting louder. "Leonardo, I can't tell if he's breathing! Leo, do something!" His voice begins to get more and more frustrated as I apparently ignore him, my eyes fastened to the ground. Then I see the source of the hissing.
"Walker," I say lowly, deliberately. "Don't move." Either he doesn't hear me or he just doesn't want to listen to me. Whatever the case, Walker begins fidgeting, seeming to try to lift Tyler's body from the floor. This causes the shadowy shape to slink towards him at a quicker rate. I know I have to act now.
Silently trailing it and hoping there aren't more around, I slam the point of my katana directly through its head just a few inches behind the boys. Walker stops and whirls around, gasping in surprise. Seeing that the threat was not meant for him, he relaxes and looks down at what I had impaled. Removing my sword from it and using the blade to lift the snake up, I tell him, "Looks like I found the 'something cool.'"
"Oh man…" Walker breathes. He swiftly turns back to Tyler. "Then he… is he…?" Throwing the limp snake away, I crouch towards the two boys as I put my weapon away. "I can't tell down here," I say. Thinking I might be hearing more hissing from somewhere else in the basement, I freeze momentarily before adding, "And I don't think staying here will prove to be a good idea, either."
I pull Walker behind me, latching his arms around my shoulders. He gets the message and clings onto me as I grab Tyler's body and lift them both up. I think I see a long, thin shadow moving out of another corner and swiftly making its way for me, but I don't dare do anything about it when two children depend on me. With all of the speed that my sensei imbued in me, I deftly run up the stairs, jump the former concessions counter, leap out the window, and make my way to a reasonably dark, safe corner by someone's backyard.
I kneel down on the ground and Walker disembarks from my shell, breathing hard again. One look at his face was enough to tell me that he was aware that I wouldn't speed away like that unless the danger was imminent. "Snakes," he murmured. "How'd we get snakes in New York City?" I shook my head as I answered, "Tyler probably wondered the same thing and decided to share the thought with you."
At the mention of his name, both of us look down at the boy I had laid on the ground. Though I had never seen him before, it was clear that his skin wasn't supposed to have that odd yellowish tinge to it. Looking up, I spot a payphone at the next block. I pull Walker up to his feet and tell him, "Go over there and call the police. Tell them you were looking for your cousin and found him at the theatre, and they need to bring people over to do something about those snakes. We don't know how many of them there are or what species they are, so we can't risk having them get out into these houses or anything. And whatever you do, make sure that, as far as they know, you did this alone."
"But what about Ty?"
"Don't worry about him," I answer quietly. "I'll do all that I can for him while you're on the phone. Now go. The sooner you get them here, the sooner Tyler will have the professional medical attention he needs." The last sentence seems to be what drives him to the payphone as fast as his short legs could carry him.
Looking back at the unconscious boy, I pray that he's not beyond help. If only Master Splinter were here; I'm sure that there's something he could do. But no, something tells me that I must handle this on my own, just as Raphael did. There's a lesson to be learned in all of this… somewhere.
I raise the legs of the boy's jeans, searching for bite marks. Sure enough, I see a pair of parallel cuts at his ankle. Realizing that he must have captured the snakes in a box and they must have lunged for him when he went to retrieve them to show Walker, I check his arms. A bit of blood is on the sleeve of his t-shirt, along with another snakebite at his elbow.
After a quick scan of the rest of his body, I hope that this means that there had only been two snakes. Comforted by the thought that there can be no way that a boy his size could capture more than two of them, I check his pulse and feel for breath coming out of his partially opened mouth. Irregular. Slow and shallow. Not good, but at least he's still alive. Perhaps the snakes had merely stunned him. Whatever the case, with two nights without food or water and with snakes being his only company, I know Tyler is in desperate need of more experienced help than what I can give. Unless I know more about the snakes and about their venom, there is little I can do.
Nevertheless, I can see that his fingers are slightly purple and feel cold, meaning that his circulation has slowed down. I rub his hands with one of mine, my other hand reaching under his shirt and massaging his chest. I can feel his heartbeat becoming slightly more regular, but I can't tell if that's fact or if it's just my own wistful thinking. Such a young boy… I can't fail him. I can't fail either of them.
Walker jogs back to us and kneels besides me. "I don't think they believe me," he says, "but they're bringing some cops over anyway. I reminded them about a case where this kid's mother died because the 9-1-1 operator didn't believe the kid when he called, so they're not taking any chances." His eyes dropped down to look at his cousin. "So… is Ty…?"
"He's alive," I tell him, not ceasing my attempts to get Tyler's circulation back to normal. "I'm hoping that he was only stunned, or that he's one of those rare people who are born with an immunity to that particular kind of venom. Whatever the case, he's breathing and will hopefully still be breathing by the time the police wise up and bring some paramedics over here."
Walker hesitantly asks, "Is there… is there anything I can do?" I shake my head. "We don't have a first aid kid, so we can't even do anything about the cuts. And since I don't know if that venom was the kind that attacks the nervous system or what, there'snotmuch elseI can do." I look at him, and I can see that Walker is on the verge of tears as he stares down at Tyler. Not really wanting to let go of Tyler, I slowly take hold of Walker's hand and place it to where mine had been. He looks up at me as I explain, "Keep his circulation going. It's the only thing I can think of to do that might help him."
Walker slowly moves over to my place, mimicking my movements. I allow him to take my place, moving away from both of them. With a quietly appreciative look on his face, Walker looks at me and murmurs, "Thanks, Leo." I nod at him as he turns back to his cousin.
At length, I can hear his strained voice as he tries to fight back tears. "Tyler, you idiot. Snakes. Picking up snakes like they're daisies or something! That was stupid, and reckless, and… and…." He let out something that sounded like a small growl before tearing his eyes away from his cousin. "Of course, I wasn't all too bright by just running down in the dark after you, huh? You just… shouldn't have done that, Ty. And you know it. Wait'll Aunt Sophie hears about this." It doesn't exactly take me forever to realize that his words sounded vaguely familiar.
We stay silent for a long time, listening for the far-off sirens that would signify that help was on its way. "Stupid cops," Walker mumbles at last. "They probably won't even put their sirens on or nothing." No sooner had he said those words that I catch sight of a flashing red light in the distance, some four blocks away. It isn't making its way towards us at a particularly quick speed, which makes it clear that Walker's prejudice against the police isn't wholly unfounded.
"Walker," I tell him as I stand. "Take care of him, okay?" Not having seen me stand, Walker queries, "What are you talking about? Of course I will." Not getting an answer from me, he eventually turns around. "Leo?"
By the time he looked, I was watching him from the safety of the rooftops, unseen.
It was a long time before I made it back home.
Only two officers had arrived initially, but after seeing that Walker's story was true, they immediately called for back-up. I watched as an ambulance rushed to the scene from a hospital that wasn't too far away. If I had known, I would have taken Tyler there myself rather than waste all of that time. I continued to watch as Tyler was taken away and as Walker's parents were phoned. It was when the media showed up that I decided that it would be in my best interests to leave unnoticed.
I slowly step into the lair, my face obviously preoccupied. Donatello glances up at me from his laptop. "Something wrong, Leo?" I shake my head. "I ran across a kid in trouble. Reporters showed up before I could make sure he was out of it." Sympathizing, he thumbs me over to the television. "Maybe you can find out on the news. If it got you this worried, then I'm sure it'll be covered by now."
Agreeing with him, I walk over to the television and flip it on. "Get real, bro," I hear Michelangelo say. Looking over, I see that he's spotting Raphael on the bench press. "Leo worries over everything. What, did the kid have like a hangnail or something?" Turning back to the television and sitting down, I reply, "No. More like a snakebite. Make that two snakebites."
"Snakebite?" Raphael asks. He was setting the weights back on the bar, from the sound of it. "How'd he get snakebites in this city? Took a wrong turn at the Bronx zoo?" I shrugged. Raphael actually comes to sit besides me on the sofa, picking up a graphic novel he had apparently laid on the floor before working out. I grow slightly uncomfortable, wondering what his reaction would be if he recognized Tyler as the boy with the snakebites.
About twenty minutes later, I hear what I want to hear. A missing boy from Queens was discovered today by his cousin at an abandoned movie theatre. Ten-year-old Tyler Bradenton was presumed to be a runaway, but the three snakebites (I missed one, apparently) on his body proved otherwise. He is currently undergoing detoxification, but doctors say that he will be all right.
At the mention of the snakes, Raphael glances up from his reading. "Guess that's your boy, huh?" I don't have the chance to answer him before Walker appears on the screen, identified as Tyler's cousin. He recites exactly what had happened, only he did me the favor of leaving me out of the story.
"Funny," Raph mutters. "He looks familiar. Like this kid I met a while ago." I glance at him as he squints at the television. The physical similarity coupled with Tyler's name at the bottom of the screen jog Raphael's memory. He finally looks at me, surprised. With a half-smile and a shrug, I tell him, "Hey, New York's not as big as we think."
"What, you know the kid?" Donnie asks Raph. I hadn't realized that he had come over to watch the news segment as well. Still a bit surprised by the turn of events, Raphael replies, "Uh… yeah. Ran into Tyler a couple 'a months ago myself." A small, wry smile on my face, I add, "Yeah… and he saved him and his mother from the mafia."
"The mafia?" Michelangelo asks incredulously. "Raph? Rescuing little kids and damsels in distress? What, did you save their puppy Fluffy, too?" Raphael sulks down in his seat. "Can it, Mikey. I had nuthin' better to do and I just happened to-"
"Just happened to feel like using your aggression on a league of angry mobsters, huh?" I interrupt him. In truth, I have no idea how many of them there were or any of the details of that night, but Raphael doesn't contradict me. "Raph, do you know what you did? That was reckless and stupid…." He rolls his eyes at me, expecting the lecture that he is far too used to. "… I'm proud of you, bro."
Raphael gapes at me, and I can tell that Mikey and Donnie are looking at me oddly as well. "Whoa," Mikey states, "wasn't expecting that one, that's for sure." Raphael continues to stare at me guardedly, as though expecting a punch line. "Just do me a favor," I request of him. "The next time you decide togo vigilante, make sure to have at least one of us in tow. Snakes can be a one-turtle job, but mobsters… not so much."
"Hey," he grumbled. "It ain't like I wanted to get involved. It was either help the kid out or know that he was gonna do it on his own. The twerp was like another me." I laugh at his remark as Donatello makes a sarcastic one of his own. "Great, just what the world needs. A human version of Raph that isn't Casey."
"Raph," I tell him, "You did good. Really." He looks at me for a moment, uncomfortable with the fact that Donnie and Mikey are within earshot. "Thanks, Leo," he finally says. "Thanks for takin' care of him." I nod at him as our other two brothers go back to what they were doing, and tell him, "I wouldn't have done any less for you, bro." We stay quiet for a moment, staring at the television screen without really seeing it. After a while, Raphael quietly says, "I know." Oddly enough, I don't think I've felt closer to Raphael for a long time.
I think there's a lesson to be learned in all of this… somewhere.