Scald-Crow 1: The Rocky Road To Whateley A Whateley Academy Tale by: ShadowedSin

High School is a living hell for Padraig, and his life is only made worse by bullying.
One night a powerful spirit offers him a deal, and his life is changed forever.
In a world where Superheroes and Villains are the norm, and mutants are hated by most of the populace
life get's complicated fast for our young hero.

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Chapter 11 - Speak Softly

Early Evening - November 2nd, 2007 - Lummi Tribal Police Station

Something just didn't sit right with Henry after seeing the convoy of five cars making their way down Haxton. It wasn’t the Confederate flag nor the Humanity First bumper stick. Nor was it the conjunction of the two appearing on two separate vehicles like a Klanner tailgate. No, it was what he saw in a singular glance and a flash of expression. Just before the first car passed he made out the man driving the small sedan leading the pack. It's hard to really gauge what a man was thinking in a momentary frame of expression. But as a deputy and as an officer of the law Henry prided himself on his ability to read a situation.

Those men have no good intent on their minds. He made the general rationalization just as he pulled up to the small one-story building where the Lummi Tribal Police called home. He stepped out of his cruiser and eyed the two smoking officers leaning against the railing of the ramp leading the way up for the handicapped. Both were Natives at first glance, dark hair, and slightly tanned features. One couldn't be too generalized though. He gave a nod to the two Officers after passing them by on way up and pushed the door to let himself inside. The Tribal Office wasn't as big as the Sherrif's, but it suited the needs of the smaller population of the Rez. In luck, his friend, Lloyd, was there and seemed to be sitting at a desk just beyond the reception area.

"Lloyd," he called out as an officer passed him, her face was set in a hard mask before she opened the door and disappeared.

"Oh look who it is," Lloyd said as he turned away from his computer screen and smiled at his friend. Being a Spencer the man was tall, at least six-two, and bore a long braid of dark brown-black hair. His ochre complexion was easily visible in the bright halogens of the station's lighting.

"Yup, up it's me, Dade County," Henry laughed. Ever since moving from Miami, the two had become fast friends on their respective beats. Lloyd even came over for dinner with his girlfriend, a girl from the Jameson family. That was all he knew of the man's background, but the two had created a good working relationship.

"I saw a small convoy, at least one Humanity First bumper sticker and some idiot flying the Confederate Flag out of the back of his pickup," he said in a flurry of words.

"Sounds like a bunch of country boys playing stupid on the Rez," Lloyd rolled his eyes. As a tribal cop, there was little he could do involving non-native folk on the Reservation.

"They were heading down Haxton, in formation staying within equal distance of each other," Henry relayed.

"What could they be after?" Lloyd wondered as he sat down in his chair and rubbed his chin.

"I'm sorry to take up your time Lloyd, I know you and Dahlia have plans for tonight," Henry sighed. Maybe his gut was wrong. There was nothing wrong with a little night ride, right?

"I wouldn't say you’re taking up my time Lloyd, what sparked you to come here in the first place," Lloyd inquired.

"I saw the face of the driver of the first car...he seemed...filled with malice," Henry said, "the kind I used to see when some country boys wanted to curb-stomp someone."

He still remembered when one of his friends ended up in the hospital for kissing her girlfriend at a bar. Just one kiss and some asshole decided to 'straighten out the lesbo'.

"Well, I guess we best ready ourselves then, a bunch of non-tribals on our land playing Snidely Whiplash isn't what I wanted for tonight," Lloyd shook his head and gave a snort.

As they both seemed to take a pause an alert pinged loudly as the dispatcher called out. "Hostile Home Invasion in Progress. 1302 Lummi Shore Road."

Lloyd froze at hearing the name before gritting his teeth and walked to the back in what Henry knew was the armor. The man returned holding his pump-action department issue shotgun.

"This is Officer Spencer reporting," the man spoke into his radio, "send an alert to the Whatcom Alliance, but I'm sure they already know."

"What's going on?" Henry asked as he fingered the holster of his own sidearm.

"You were right about those idiots in the cars, there at my wife's Uncle's place," he said.

"Whos that?"

"Gerald Jameson," Lloyd said as he waved to the two officers out front and the rest of the department exploded into action.

Early Evening, November 2nd, 2007 - Jameson Home

Have you ever had the feeling that all your happiness was on a timer? That some cosmic entity was waiting over you like the Sword of Damocles and as soon you were unaware just dropped the hammer? When the strange man got out of the small sedan parked near the door of Jameson's home I didn't know what to make of him. I was easily able to pick out his features in the light of the alert lamps on the house. He was balding with slicked back hair to one side. Wrinkled eyes and a face went to pasture. His body was clothed in a simple two-piece suit and his tie was loose around his neck. The man carried a piece of paper which I guess was some sort of document or a script for what he was going to say.

He stood just outside the car, leaning against the top of its frame, and kept the door open. Another man made his way outside, and this one made me start to panic. Unlike the other man, this man took care of himself and his hair was still nearly there. Blonde thinning hair atop a strong square jaw head and blue uncaring eyes watched me above a roman nose. This man had to be Brad's dad and the way how he held himself he screamed: "I am your better". Both of these men were obviously the leaders of the circus lined up along the driveway and as they waited more men climbed out of the cars behind them.

At this point in the action film, there would be a standoff. But, sadly this wasn't an action film, no yippee-kai-yay motherfucker to save my family in a blaze of glorious machine gunfire. No, the men all walked until they formed a semi-circle around the front door. Gerald was still standing in the doorway as the leader by his stance took a step closer to the door itself.

"Gerald, it's good to see you again after so many years," the man said.

"Dickinson, why are you here?" Gerald asked carefully.

"We aren't here for you or your freak family. Just the redhead, she's caused enough pain and needs to be taught a lesson," Dickinson or whatever his name was.

"You know I'm not going to let you near her Dickinson, just as I never let you near any of my clients when we sparred in the courtroom," Gerald countered.

"I thought you'd say that, and I had the smallest glimmer of hope you wouldn't," he said with a shake of his head.

A crash was heard behind us and I rushed into the kitchen as three armed figures appeared. Each was dressed in black, a combination of what I can only assume were body armor, black pants, and combat boots. Even their hands were gloved, and their heads covered with ski-masks. You know, I'm an evil but smart mercenary look. One of the men moved forward and he seized my sister's hand and yanked her away from my parents. Mom let out a loud growl, "Don't you FUCKING TOUCH MY DAUGHTER!"

My dad raised his hands to indicate he wasn't armed and replied, "Gentlemen, you have to know that the Alliance is on their way. This won't end well. We don't know your faces you can easily walk away and never get charged with a thing."

The mook holding my sister placed her against his chest and held his gun while drawing a knife from his hip. I felt my fear rising as he pressed the knife to her neck and my eyes shot to Sophia. My friend was whispering to her mom as one of the men barked out, "ALL OF YOU OUT FRONT! NOW!"

My parents slowly backed away as I watched Corrine drag, Sophia, along.

"Grainne, don't do anything," mom ordered me as she and Corrinne shared a quick look. I could only guess that being a hero Corinne had some sort of plan for a hostile home invasion scenario. I mean, why wasn't there a panic room around here? That was a thing, right?

I watched as we were all ushered into the foyer and the three men blocked our path. Each from what I could make out was carrying some form of an assault rifle. Not being a military expert all I can describe them as being is somewhat AK-47 in appearance. They even had slings for the men to keep the rifle over their shoulders. The men themselves moved in a trained precision that only could be made through years of training as a team.

My body was shaking as my fear kept me in place, and I followed the direction of my parents. Gerald was busily sparring verbally with Dickinson from what I could make out. The two were definitely old frenemies of some make, and I could make out a few more characters in glimpses around Gerald's form. After about five minutes the three mercenaries began pushing us toward the door and Gerald shuffled forward as we all were filed out of the door. Now we’re standing in front of the Jameson home in the middle of the night. Offhandedly I registered the fact that I was standing in Corrine's flower bed, and even stomping over a heather bush I could only guess they planted years ago.

I let my view drag downward in a slow painful arc until it was on my shoes. I dug my feet in instinctively as I could tell my fight or flight response was now on high alert. Lifting my head up I finally focused on what Dickinson was saying.

"This is getting old," Dickinson sighed.

"Your delaying tactics are just wasting time, shoot the bitch and we'll be out of here," cried a man behind him.

"I've got this covered," Dickinson said and raised a hand to stop someone. In the glare of the headlights, I made out the third man.

"This freak should know her place!" came the party line from the man.

"I told you I would handle this, I have no interest in seeing you all hit by one of Gerald's spells," Dickinson said.

"Watch lass, watch!" My eyes snapped onto the two men and back to Gerald. He was thumping a piece of wood I could only guess he'd sneaked out of his pocket. Sly old bastard! "Yes he is, he got them talking as a distraction." I blinked as the realization sunk in.

"Light is a gift for all to see." I heard the words.

All of a sudden a strange suction flowed through the air and I could feel myself feeling a little dazed. Morgan uttered a series of comments to me in a language I couldn't understand at all. But I did pick out one word she said and it was, "Essence."

A flare of blinding light filled my vision and I raised a hand to block it out in reaction. I heard a scream as several of the men weren't fast enough and one fell over obviously blinded by the light. Gerald held out the light source as it began to fail. Adrenaline sparked my reaction as I heard a collision of bodies. Corrine had jumped into action against the three men behind us. Seeing a speeding energizer tear into a group of armed men was shocking, she wasn't a blur, but she definitely moved faster than the three mercs could react too. Just as she hit the three men I heard something whiz by my head as a series of pops rang out behind me.

Someone was firing off their gun. I caught sight of the bastard who'd attacked my sister and it took all of my self-control from running at him. Edging away from behind Gerald I considered putting myself in front of Sloan as the last of the light ended. The men knew at this point I think that their plan wasn't going to work. Come to think of it, we had two trained heroes on our side. How was this going to go in their favor? I thought about it for a moment but shoved that aside as the gunfire started.

My parents moved to grab Sloan as she was closest to them at that moment. I could see my father watching me out of the corner of his eye. I had no hard feelings, I knew my parents were doing what was the first thing on their mind, and I was right as my dad was already assessing if he could reach me. A whizzing sound sped past me as I dropped to the ground. The gunfire was a mix of what I heard in video games and a series of loud pops. It was like any Fourth of July on the Island when the kids when nuts with firecrackers.

I felt it at first when the men grabbed my sister, and before that when Brad attacked me a second time. My muscles went tight all at once as fiery heat bubbled up from my feet into my belly and further. Just as I began to right myself upward I dug my foot into that poor heather plant once more. Immediately, as I scanned the scene. The men were retreating from the front of the house back toward their cars. The speaker, Dickinson was already opening his car door as the other one he argued with was angrily pointing at me as he got into the passenger door.

The light of the car revealed his face, a nice square jaw, blue eyes, and blonde hair. An old version of my attacker. As if a light switched on in my brain all that pent up stress and rage sparked and I jumped from where I stood. Something struck my shoulder and a flare of pain blossomed along my right. Slowly I started to run until I was right in the car. Hitting it with all my strength the metal dented more and more as I punched a fist through the driver’s side window. More pain as shards of glass bit and sliced open my fist. I seized Dickinson by the scruff of his jacket and I began to pull. Dickinson or whatever his goddess fucking name was let out a moan of protest as I began to drag him from the car.

His clothing protected him from most of the glass as in one final yank I sent him flying out of the car window. Another flash of pain blossomed on my side as I felt something hot and wet running down my right shoulder. Mister Finkbonber stared at me in horror. His 'lovely' blonde hair was mussed with sweat and slick against his head. I landed two consecutive punches to the inside of the door before it creaked open. The stupid door finally came off after I dug in my heels and pulled with all my might. Finkbonner was struggling to undo his seatbelt like a complete fool.

"YOU FUCKING COWARD!" I bellowed as I ripped off his seatbelt and began pulling him free.

The man was kicking and fighting to get away from me at this point. I grabbed one of his hands and a loud crunch was heard as I crushed it. He screamed in pain and I threw him across the ground onto it with a loud thud. Stalking over towards him I growled as I kneeled to land a punch directly to his head. My eyes lingered on his hand and I snapped my head back to gaze at the car. All rage fell from me as I stood up just as a flash of lights entered my vision. I pulled back my fist as the sirens from those very lights finally caught my attention. My eyes caught on the words on one of the cars now pulling up behind the rest.

"Lengesot-Cho>"

That and the words "Lummi Tribal Police" made me feel so damn relieved.

"COUNTY SHERRIF!" said a voice from one of the cars another figured yelled, "TRIBAL POLICE! GET ON THE GROUND! DROP THOSE GUNS!"

I raised my hands. A Tribal Cop came near me and gestured for a woman to quickly frisk me. Perhaps five minutes later she nodded and I headed back to my family. Tears flowed down my eyes as I felt the pain from earlier far more clear. I cried at the agony throbbing in my right shoulder as I realized a bullet had grazed me. The opposite shoulder or more accurately my clavicle was bleeding as well. One of those bastards had finally shot me. Those idiots had the aim of Imperial Stormtroopers. Closing my eyes my mom waved to a cop for an ambulance.

"You'll just need to stem the bleeding," Corrine remarked as my mom waited by me.

"Why?" mom asked.

"Your daughter, her initial tests point to her being an Exemplar Three or Four. She'll heal fully in a few days."

"Really?" mom asked as she glanced at dad. My father gave me a confused shrug. Neither of them had worked with many mutants in the past. Me, I just gave a nod as it sounded about right. It seemed to fit every bit of loose internet lore I'd read over the years of fanfiction.

"Officer does anyone have a first aid kit to help clean out her gunshot wound?" Corinne pulled aside and asked the Sheriff's Deputy.

"Yeah, I have one in my cruiser, just give me a few moments," the man said.

"Hey Gerald, Corinne, a bus should be here in a bit to look over you all. Also to look to the man with the crushed hand, and the other with the possibly broken back," said a Lummi Cop.

"Broken back?" I asked in shock.

"Yeah, he was thrown hard enough and landed on his spine, could just be a bruise, but he's reporting limited feeling in parts of his body," he replied.

"I did that, I pulled them from the car," I said monotonously, "I hurt them."

"Babes, you were defending us and you didn't mean to do anything," my dad assured me.

"No - no, I was going to cave Finkbonner's head in when I stopped myself," I could feel fear coming over me. Maybe, I was being a little dramatic, but the amount of anger I felt when I attacked Finkbonner was overwhelming to my senses. The other problem, it felt good at the time. Now I felt exhausted, and my body was starting to go leaden. This made no sense, why was I so tired.

A lot happened in the time between the sudden drain of my energy. First, the man I would later come to know was named Henry Duvalle returned with a first aid kit and properly disinfected my wounds. He applied a bit of gauze and medical tape and after about another ten minutes a loud siren signaled the arrival of an ambulance. I could only watch, a glum expression on my face, as the two men I'd attacked were placed on stretchers and taken into the bus.

"I'm a monster," I said, before closing my eyes and letting my mom's hug bring me some measure of comfort.