Madison
Veronica Ceres looked out the window of the 757, staring as the plane left the tarmac. She was leaving San Francisco, bound for Milwaukee–not exactly the direction one would usually choose.
But of course, this was not a vacation; there was something afoot here, something deep and dark and evil.
Her place was with her comrades.
Actually, she was breathing easier, as she looked across the aisle at the figure of Jon Smith, who was studying a ream of documents. Most of the key figures in the Society had been in San Francisco. She had rallied them, set them to work on finding out how it was, after ten years, that The Coed had risen again.
The Coed. She cursed inwardly, the all-too-familiar lump in her gut from what she'd created. She had talked with D.X. more and more lately about what had happened back then, and she was filled with regret. Liz could've been so much more; she was wasted on Ceres' dreams of success.
Yes, but had you not come so close to success in Madison, you never would've risen in the League. When the crisis came in 1998, you would've been powerless to stop it.
She sighed. She knew it was true; Ronnie had built her career on the grave of Liz Anderson. It was the closest the League would come to winning–until New York, of course.
But now, it appeared her creation was back from the grave. And Ronnie wouldn't be able to control her this time. The Coed was on her own now. She had to be stopped.
And Ronnie knew that she would have to do it.
* * *
D.X. gnawed gingerly on the bagel, trying to figure out where to go from here.
He wanted to run away. He wanted to have this cup taken from him, and go back to being an ordinary man.
He couldn't kill her again.
Sarah had arrived ten minutes ago. She had transported directly in, not bothering to ask her CO if she should. D.X. was glad. Had it been up to him, he would've told her not to–drive in, instead. But she was here, and it helped. He felt a little better with two adepts to back him.
"All right," he said, after a long pause. "We know that Liz is going to resurface in a big way. We know she's resumed her vigilante pattern; we know that she's moving against the rapists and molesters. And if I believed she would be content with that, I might just let her be."
D.X. looked around the table, hoping someone would say, "Yeah, that's probably all she'll do, let's go home." But of course, nobody did.
Instead, he looked down. "We all know," he said, quietly, "that she's not going to be content with that.
"Teri, Sarah, I want you to track down this girlfriend of this missing boy."
"Why?" asked Sarah. "According to the papers, she didn't know anything."
"Yeah, well, according to the papers, he's missing, not probably killed by an avenging angel skilled in the GTS arts. Scott, you're with me. We're going to do a little reconnaissance work, see if we can get a sense of what we're dealing with."
"Are we sure this is Liz? I mean, I know this person is calling herself The Coed, but do we know it's literally Liz Anderson?"
D.X. stopped for a moment, and considered. "I'd like to believe that was true. And maybe it is. But whomever is doing this is channeling Liz, if it isn't her. Her modus operandi is exactly the same as Liz'. If it isn't her, it's her twin.
"And either way, we've got to be on our guard."
* * *
Angie would've skipped down the street had she been twenty years younger. Instead, she headed up Bascom Hill light as a feather, still reeling from the night before.
She felt gooey inside, like a toasted marshmallow. Liz has shown her things she didn't think were possible, and Angie felt reborn.
She turned into the building and headed for the classroom, her mind spinning backwards to the events of the previous evening....
"I want to try something with you," Liz had whispered into her ear. "To show you what can be done with this gift."
"I am yours," she had replied, and she meant it.
And then it felt like she had boarded an elevator, descending rapidly. She looked up in surprise at a growing Coed who smiled, and said, "I think you're going to enjoy this."
She reached out her hand, and marveled as it slid along Liz' leg, her knee, her ankle. When Liz finally stopped shrinking her, she stood only five inches tall.
"My God," she had said, looking up at the ninety-foot-tall woman, resplendent in jeans and a t-shirt. "I should say, my Goddess."
Liz dropped to a knee in front of her partner. "Yes, you should. Here, let me undress you."
And she was rising, and Liz was removing her clothes matter-of-factly, like an eight-year-old undressing a doll. Liz smiled down at her. "You're pretty, Angie. A pretty, perfect doll." And then Liz started licking between her legs, Liz' tongue the same size as Angie. And the tongue hit the junction of her legs, and she cried out in ecstacy....
Angie smiled to herself. And she wasn't even thinking about her later experience pleasing Liz. Now that...that was something she'd remember forever.
She shook her head, slightly. Enough of that. She had a job to do.
Briana Thomas walked by Angie and smiled. "Bri," said Angie, smiling back. "I need to tell you something."
* * *
"Do you think there's a chance we're going to find her this way?" asked Scott, as he and D.X. walked down State Street.
"I doubt it. But we've got to try. And the other option is just sit in the hotel room, and I can't do that right now."
Scott sighed. "I know, D.X., but we also have to proceed in a sensible matter. If you don't feel...."
"I'd hold that thought if I were you. I'm not locking myself in," said D.X., visibly annoyed. God damn it, this was tough enough without Scott piling on.
"I was going to say, sir, that if you don't feel this is helping then perhaps we should consider something else proactive we can do."
D.X. looked at Scott, and dropped his head. "Scott...I'm sorry. I was out of line. It's just...."
"Hey, I couldn't kill Sarah when I had to. We're just lucky she came to her senses in time. Two seconds more, and maybe I hand the keys to the world to the League. You...you took Liz down. You had to, and you did it.
"One time facing that decision was too much for me. I wouldn't go back to that cusp for anything. And here you are, and I don't blame you for feeling a bit insane right now, Jake. But if we're going to beat Liz we need you. We need you present and in the moment, we need you making decisions for the right reasons. Sarah and I are strong, Teri's prescient, Ronnie and Anon are en route and they're great. But you're the Supreme Allied Commander, Jake, and we're not going to make it without you."
D.X. sighed a deep sigh, and raised his head again. "Let's head back to the hotel. We're just wasting energy doing this. We'll see what the girls come up with, and tonight we'll run three patrols–and really track her down."
* * *
Briana walked out of the class, her mind buzzing. Tonight? She was going to meet The Coed tonight?
"She'll want to meet you," the Professor had said, smiling. "She wants to recruit some people to help her."
"Help her do what?"
"Protect women. And I know you'd be a great candidate, Bri. You really should come."
She was going to help protect women?
By killing men?
She had a bad feeling about this.
It wasn't that she mourned Brad. Well, actually, yeah it was. He hadn't hit her before that night. He wasn't perfect–he was too hot-headed, too angry. But given what his uncle had done to him....
She shivered. No, Brad didn't deserve to die. And if that was The Coed's idea of "protection," she didn't want anything to do with it.
A couple of women approached her. "Briana Thomas? I'm Isis and this is my associate, Tanya. We have a few questions to ask you."
Great, she thought. She didn't want anything to do with this, either.
* * *
Liz sat in Angie's empty apartment, reaching out her mind.
There had been dozens of women that she had helped, the first time around. She reached out to them, in little ways, imploring them to come.
She didn't expect to reach all of them and she didn't succeed in doing so. But she found the ones she had wanted. They were on their way.
She smiled to herself. There would be about fifteen of them tonight. Her own personal army. They would take this town soon–sooner than anyone would expect. And then it would be cleansed.
She smiled wider at that. Yes...the cleansing would be fun.
And if you knew her well, you would've seen just a flash of something after the smile, something that Liz was unaware of.
Something that looked like terror.
* * *
D.X. sat at the desk, trying to draw up a patrol that made sense. The best would to be to break it out into six solo patrols, but they were spread too thin. No one of them could take down Liz on their own. Not even Sarah.
He sighed, scribbling a few notes in the margin, as the door opened.
"We've got news," said Teri, as she entered.
D.X. rose, and turned to face her, and Sarah.
And another.
"Well," said D.X. "I guess we do."
* * *
"Look, I know it looks bad. I mean, I covered up what I knew, but it's just–"
"You didn't know that the police would believe you. You're right. They wouldn't. But we do, Briana, and we know this wasn't your doing."
D.X. leaned back, just a little. They weren't playing good-cop-bad-cop. They were all good cops, and they were trying to convince this girl to turn double agent.
"Yeah, well, I mean, why is what The Coed doing so bad? I mean, she's protecting women, right?" said Briana, sounding as if she was trying to convince herself.
"If she just stopped there, it would be fine," D.X. said. "But she can't. Trust me, I was with her the last time around. I was her best friend, and the only friend she had who knew her secret. And I couldn't keep her from hurting innocents."
Briana dropped her head at that. "Brad wasn't evil. I mean, he hit me, and that was wrong, and I was going to dump his ass. But...he wasn't evil. He was just screwed up."
"Exactly," said Teri, soothingly. "He needed help. You needed out. That's fine. But he didn't deserve to die.
"Briana, more people will die if you don't help us. Where is this meeting being held?"
Briana started to cry. "It's...it's at Prof. McMartin's house. You can't tell her I told you. But I can't...."
"You're not a murderer, Briana. You're not guilty. You're a good person, and you've helped us a lot. You should be proud," said D.X., making a mental note to ensure this girl got help from a macrophile psychologist he knew. She would need it.
"Now, friends," said D.X., "we've got three hours to get together an attack plan. Let's do it."
* * *
The women were filtering in two and three at a time. The first to arrive, to Liz' great delight, had been a pretty woman in her late twenties, that Liz had recognized instantly.
"Alicia! It's so nice to see you again!"
"You...I never thought I'd get to thank you!"said the young woman, hugging her former savior. "This woman," said Alicia to nobody in particular, "she gave me the best pair of shoes I've ever owned."
"Are those–" said Liz, smiling as she looked down at the battered tennies Alicia sported.
"Yep. I've been wearing them ever since. They've held up supernaturally well, don'tcha think?"
Liz laughed. "They look great. Hey guys, remember me?"
Of course, the shoes didn't reply, though a few expletives were thought by one of them.
Others filed in as the hour of the meeting approached, including, towards the end, a smiling Briana.
They gathered in a semicircle around their hero, all of them quiet as Liz began.
"My friends, my sisters, it has been too long."
She paused as the room filled with applause. She smiled, reveling in the warmth.
"I started out just like all of you–powerless in the face of a man who was trying to dominate me. He succeeded in dominating me, my sisters. I was forced down by him and raped, and there was nothing I could do about it.
"I wanted to fight back–who wouldn't? But who would believe a girl? Who would believe that a coed could be assaulted by a fraternity brother? Why would the police take my word over his?
"And so I was sent off on my own, to try to recover from a badge of shame that I had not earned. And like so many women before and since, I was forced to watch my assailant go free.
"But that would soon change."
She stepped back, letting the room hang on her words.
"Ten years ago, I first became possessed of a gift. It allowed me to gain my revenge on the man who raped me. It allowed me to protect the women of Madison. I had hoped to go further, to take this city once and for all for women–but men, fearful of what that meant, prevented me from doing so. One man in particular, a man I trusted, a man I once loved–he consigned me to a hellish prison that I would not escape."
She paused just enough to nail the applause line.
"Until seven weeks ago."
The room exploded in shouts and applause. She smiled like a master politician, and waited for the applause to again subside before proceeding.
"In the time since, I have resumed my calling. I helped our young friend Briana here. I helped a child being molested by her stepfather. And I have been ever-vigilant, watching for those who would take what they have not been given.
"But my friends, you and I know that one woman, working alone, cannot succeed. Yes, I can punish–but I cannot always prevent. No, one woman, working alone, is not enough.
"But all of us, working together–together, we can defeat the patriarchy once and for all, and take this town–for–ourselves!"
And the room was up on its feet, cheering with all their might. Liz basked in the glow. She was their leader. She was their messiah. And she would deliver her sisters from bondage....
"NOW! Shrink 1:24 and hold, morpheus, claris!" shouted Briana, who was suddenly ducking and weaving out of her position. Except it wasn't Briana at all.
The door collapsed, and five men and women strode through the door, arms raised and deadly serious. The woman who was not Briana fell back to join them.
And the man in the center of the group stepped forward.
"It ends tonight, Liz. I can't let you destroy this city."
The women who surrounded Liz were panicked, but Liz simply smiled, and with a confidence borne of sheer faith, said "Little One, you're right about one thing: it ends tonight."
And with that, she struck.