I wanted so desperately for it to be like in the movies, where people could trust your heart.  Where you were holding the gun and you had to choose between shooting the evil clone and shooting your friend, and you just knew.

Yeah, it’s not that easy in this world, huh.

He gestured around us with one hand. “This doesn’t work.  This is going to lose us the fight, and all the danger we’ve been through in our fight against the Nine will be for nothing if they win here.”

Echoing some of Taylor’s own sentiments here.

I shook my head.  “I don’t disagree, but that line of thinking isn’t going to make me drop the gun.”

“Then can I try acting from my heart?”  he asked.

I swear, if this leads to a kiss, I’m…

…actually gonna enjoy that a lot.

Before I could respond, he started approaching me.  I backed away a step, kept the gun leveled, but I couldn’t bring myself to shoot as he advanced.

He stepped in close, ignoring the gun, and wrapped his arms around me.  My forehead pressed against his shoulder.  It wasn’t the most comfortable hug I’d had, not that I’d had many.

Okay, close enough.

It felt awkward, stiff, clumsy.  But somehow that made it feel more right, like a real hug would have felt off somehow.

A real hug wouldn’t seem right because for most intents and purposes, you don’t know each other.

In truth?  It wasn’t telling me much.  If I didn’t think on it, if I just went with the vague impression I associated with the name Tattletale, the smile, the fountain of information…

I backed away a step.  “I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to trust you.”

Honestly, same.

“Darn it.  Um.  Let me think…”

“Do you want to go ahead without her?” the guy asked.

That would be less than ideal.

I turned to look at him.  The idea of being left alone here-

“Go somewhere safe,” he suggested.

Grue does seem to trust Skitter on Tattle’s word, and defaults to his usual concern for the safety of his teammates.

I frowned.

“If the Slaughterhouse Nine find Panacea first, or if things get much worse-”

“I want to help, really,” I said.  “But it’s just that…”

It’s just that you don’t know if they’re the Nine or not?

I trailed off.

“You want to help, but you’re suspicious.  And you feel bad for being suspicious, because of everything we’ve been through, our close calls?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.  I was double checking everything he said against my own awareness.  Was he saying anything that indicated he knew something I couldn’t?

Everything they’ve been through…

“I know how scared and suspicious you feel because I feel the same way.  Except I trust Tattletale.”

Why, exactly?

If you tell Taylor why you trust Lisa, that might help unlock Taylor’s trust.

“I do too,” I said, “And I’d trust her if I could be sure she was Tattletale.”

“Trust your heart.”

Hmm. Fair enough, I guess.

She nodded.  “Skitter, this is Grue.”

I didn’t recognize him any more than he recognized me.  I kept the gun trained on them.

“This is slowing us down.  What’s it going to take to get you to trust me?” she asked.

Good fuckin’ question.

What would it take?

“The fight with Empire Eighty-Eight’s mooks.  When I made the human-shaped tower of bugs for the first time, and they shot into it while I crouched inside…”

That was with Bitch, not Tattletale.

She shook her head “I don’t remember that.”

How many people had I been with, then?  I would have said one, but I felt like someone else was involved.  Had they arrived late?  I could remember hurrying off.

I guess maybe she’s remembering that Grue was there after the fight.

She spread her arms wide.  “I’m sorry.  I might not look like it, but it’s affecting me too.  I’m just using my power to uncover the answers we need.”

It’s very much a useful power to have in this situation.

I nodded.  That would have been reassuring if I could remember what her powers were, or if I could think of something about her I could quiz her on.  It was like two blind people playing hide and seek.

That actually sounds kinda fun. Relying on other senses both to hide and to find each other.

“Look, come here,” she offered.

I hesitated.

“You can keep the gun.  I’ll keep my hands above my head.  Grue, stand back.”

What does she have in mind now?

He stepped away and leaned against a wall, his arms folded.

I landed Atlas and stepped forward.

She got on her knees, and with her hands above her head, she walked through the flooded street on her knees until her forehead was pressed against the barrel of the gun.

This does not seem like the greatest idea so far.

“I trust you.  I know I’m a pain in the ass sometimes, I know we’ve had our ups and downs.  I know I’ve kept way too many secrets for someone who calls herself Tattletale…” She smiled. “But I trust you.  Now, even if you don’t recognize me consciously, what’s your heart telling you?”

“I know you’re in there somewhere.”

She nodded.  Her expression was solemn.  “Hours instead of weeks.  And as people experience mood shifts with anger and fear, or if the hallucinations get worse-”

They start killing each other before the prions do.

“The fighting among teammates will, too,” I finished.  “It could get ugly.”

“If we’re going to save everyone, we need Amy.  For that, we need to ask Cherish.”

Ohh, yeah, good idea. And since the redness doesn’t spread to the sea, she won’t be affected.

Though she’s not exactly trustworthy anyway.

I shook my head.  “Who?”

“Um.  You remember capturing a member of the Nine?”

Two, even?

Did I?  We’d ambushed them, walked away with captives, yes.  But we’d lost someone too.

Yep.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“And we confined one?”

I nodded.  This was working.  I could piece together the information.  We’d called that person on a phone, hadn’t we?  “Cell phones aren’t working consistently.”

For some reason.

“Is it safe?” a male voice asked.

Hiya, Grue.

“Sure.”

I stayed silent.

He stepped out from around the corner to stand by the blond girl.  “This is Skitter?”

Nice to meet you!

“Skitter!” a voice called out.

!

Someone remembers her name!

I stopped.

A blond girl, waving at me.

Victoria? Lisa?

Oh right, Lisa would be resistant to this, wouldn’t she. Just like she’s implied to be resistant to Imp’s power.

I drew my gun and leveled it at her.

Yikes.

The smile dropped from her face.  She brought both hands to her mouth as she shouted, “It’s me!  Tattletale!”

You say that, but…

I hesitated.

How tragic would it be if I shot my friend, so soon after I’d wanted to scream at the heroes for fighting among one another?

Very. Do not shoot your friend.

“How did you get here?”

“On the dog.  I don’t remember its name, but it wasn’t as affected as we were.  This effect is tailored for people.”

Makes sense.

I looked in the direction of the creature I’d seen.  Had that been the dog they’d come on?

They? So Trickster and maybe Sunny are here too?

I drew closer, but I kept the gun aimed at her.  I glanced around.  “Where are the others?”

“Most are hiding,” she said.  “My powers kind of let me work around this gas, I think.  I brought Grue, too.”

How is he working around it? Is he keeping a bit of darkness in contact with Lisa to borrow some of her awareness? Except it seems to me that Taylor would notice that.

I looked around.  What she was saying felt right, even if I couldn’t remember her powers, specifically.  “What is this?  Amnesia?”

Kind of.

“Agnosia.  We haven’t forgotten.  Just… can’t use the knowledge we have.

Huh. I didn’t know that was a thing.

Looking at the others, I think they’re hallucinating.  If it’s prions, like Bonesaw used with the power nullification darts, it fits.  Hallucinations would match with heavy prion exposure.”

Interesting.

If it was Crawler, and I acted like he was friendly, he’d tear me to shreds.  I could draw my gun to threaten him, defend myself… except that wouldn’t do a thing to slow Crawler down.

And she can still connect the name Crawler to his power, just not to his appearance.

If it was one of Bitch’s dogs sans rider, then there was little point in staying.  I didn’t even know if it was suffering from the miasma’s effect.  If it was Crawler…

The miasma didn’t appear to affect bugs, but bugs and dogs have very different brains.

I drew my bugs around me as a shroud, simultaneously forming decoy swarms.  I ran, my footsteps splashing, and called Atlas to me.  The second I was out of sight, I climbed on top of him and took to the air once again.

Yeah, time to go.

Couldn’t settle down, couldn’t stop.  I had to treat everyone I met as an enemy.

That’s how everyone is thinking, and look where that’s getting us.

I was beginning to see where the paranoia came in.

Yeah.

I felt lost.  Was I helping the enemy when I was propping someone up to make sure they didn’t choke on their own vomit or drown in a puddle?  If I used the plastic cuffs I had in the changepurse, would I be tying someone up, leaving them helpless against one of the Nine?

¯_(ツ)_/¯

I checked my cell phone.  No service.

Well that’s helpful.

This is a satellite phone. What did they do to stop it? Do they have jammers of some kind? Or was the phone damaged in the fall?

I was alone here.  Everyone in the world was a stranger.

When it first started, Sundancer’s spiel about being alone seemed to come kind of out of nowhere, but it has turned out to be incredibly thematically important to the chapter. Well done.

Vibrations rocked the street.  I saw the wounded man stir in response.

What now? My first thought after the supposedly deceased Crawler was Behemoth, but I highly doubt he’s showing up right now.

Oh man, y’know, Dragon would be really good to have here right now. She’s immune to the miasma, and people might even not forget her the way they do most people, even if they don’t know why not.

A monster.  Bigger than a car, fangs, teeth, claws, and a thorny exterior.  It didn’t act like it had seen me.

Ooh, a hellhound?

…this could turn out badly.

One of Bitch’s dogs?  Or is it Crawler?

Apparently Taylor still remembers that someone named Bitch on her team has hellhounds.

But not that Crawler is supposed to be dead.

When I was free, I gathered my knife, baton and gun from where they had fallen and fit them into the few remaining elastic loops in my ruined utility compartment.

Oh, alright, she’s still getting some of it with her.

Cell phone was a yes, but I didn’t have a spot for it, so I tucked it in the chest compartment of my armor.

The cell phone is potentially useful for getting around the paranoia. It contains contacts that she can be reasonably sure are people she can trust to some extent.

Similarly, I stuck the epipens and changepurse through the space between my hip and the belt, wedging them in next to the straps.

I double checked that Atlas hadn’t been hurt by Legend’s lasers and then climbed on top of him.

That’s the second time Legend’s lasers have been tied to his name after she stopped remembering who’s who. But each time, she’s been thinking about something that happened before that point, just like the mention of Sundancer having issues with being alone (in the paragraph directly following the first instance of this). Does she remember that the name is tied to the power, but not that the person with that power is the one with that name?

There was destruction below, and signs of the mad fighting between capes.  Sheets of paper frozen in time, a mailbox destroyed, a light-post toppled, all still in the midst of the red water.

This is gonna be such a nightmare for Piggot to clean up, PR-wise.

Everyone had fled or been knocked out of commission.  The fighting had migrated to several scattered spots nearby.

I didn’t know exactly what to do, so I focused on helping the wounded, making sure they were okay.

But what if the wounded are members of the Nine? 😮

I turned an unconscious girl over into the recovery position, and started to drag a wounded man out of the middle of the road.  I stopped when he started struggling and fighting with me and just left him there.

“What if she’s a member of the Nine? :o”

I directed every curse word I knew at the belt and armor panels I’d placed around my hips as I tried to work myself free.

While this is better writing, I would honestly have enjoyed actually seeing this string of curses written out.

My hips and rear end were proving as difficult as my chest had been, and with my upper body being further away, I couldn’t get the same leverage push myself out with my arms.  Minutes passed as I grunted and struggled.

Surely this all is someone’s fetish.

I could hear inarticulate screams, shouted threats, screamed warnings and the noise of destruction on the street below as paranoia gave way to violence.

I doubt only the capes are affected, so I’m sure some of the civilians are fighting too.

I brought Atlas to my side, but even with his strength and his horn, he wasn’t strong enough to affect the concrete.

At least she remembers Atlas.

I used his help to squeeze myself out, bracing his horn against the lip of the concrete sheet and pulling.

Nice.