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The Blue Beetle stars in...The Runaway: Issue #5
Previous IssueBaltimore, Maryland
A sound like clanging metal jolted Jaime Reyes awake as he felt something smack against the side of his skull. He could make out the sound of several people arguing, but their exact words were hidden behind a haze of head trauma. He'd just...He'd just fallen out of the sky. For a moment, he thought he might've been dead, but that incessant whacking on his helmet felt all too real for this to be some kind of hellish fever dream of a lost soul.
"-Stop pokin' it, Johnny! Seriously!" A young voice cut through the fog with his high pitched, broken warning. "W-what if it ain't dead?!"
This 'Johnny' character responded with something of a half grunt, half snort. "Youse saw it, same as me! God damn thing fell down from space!" Another impact knocked Jaime's head to the side. "You think it's an alien, Billy? Or maybe it's that bat fella from Jersey!"
Billy scoffed, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. "That look like a bat to you, dumbass? It looks like some kinda...some kinda bug. Like a big ass, scary ass bug. So-so stop fuckin' pokin' it! We should call the cops."
"Somebody's already done it. No way we was the only two that saw this fella hit the ground. Say, is it-"
Right as Johnny went for another swing with his tire iron, he felt it suddenly halt in place. The 'bug' had it's claws wrapped about the tool, and it's eyes were wide open. Though it's face was set in unmoving armor, he swore he saw anger bubbling just behind those lifeless yellow eyes.
"Shit!" Johnny dropped the iron just as the monster started to crush it in it's hand. He backpedaled, his back hitting the crater he'd found the bug in. Billy scrambled forward, helping his shell shocked friend climb up it's steep basin. "We gotta get the hell outta here! Run!" The two turned and started at a dead sprint for the car on the other side of the empty lot, but they didn't get far. Not before Johnny felt a force like a linebacker's tackle hit him in the spine. Crumbling to the ground, the scruffy twenty-something made a disgraceful attempt at rolling to his feet.
Jaime put a stop to his fleeing when he pressed his heel into Johnny's lower back. "I'm getting really tired of people like you hitting me." He snarled. Clawed digits reached down, pulling the Baltimore local up by his neck. He dangled there, his feet kicking at thin air as his hands wrapped around the monster's.
"P-please, man, I'm sorry- don't kill me, please!"
For a moment, Reyes felt a flash of satisfaction at the power he now wielded over this guy. Once upon a time, a guy like Johnny would've made easy pickings of Jaime- he was small, skinny and never could defend himself very well. But there was strength in his arms now. Strength to do to guys like this what they used to do to Jaime.
"Give me your wallet, keys and phone and I'll consider it." He growled, throwing Johnny onto his back. The man was quick to obey, shaky hands digging through his pockets until he'd spilled everything he had on him onto the ground before the alien monster. "Gracias, ese. Now get outta here before I change my mind."
Neither of the two men needed more than that. They ran like hell out of the lot, making for the street beyond with speed that would've rivaled the Flash on her best day.
'Well done, Jaime Reyes.' Khaji Da finally added after they'd both vanished around a corner. 'You have secured us an alternate means of transportation.'
No response came for several moments as Reyes stared out into the street where they'd disappeared, the pilfered items remaining in the dust at his feet. He felt a twisting, gnawing guilt in his gut like a dagger slicing through his innards.
"Yeah, well, I'm already a murderer and a fugitive. What's a little Grand Theft Auto too?" No humor laced it's way into his words, only the toxic pangs of sin and wrongdoing. It was one thing to fight for his life- one thing to take the blame for whatever happened in the museum. But this?
Jaime was in control. His own hands had contemplated stealing another person's life. His own words had brought him to this place. Slowly he bent down and scooped up the keys, phone and wallet before making a move for the car. Even as he climbed into the driver's seat, Jaime wondered how far he would have to go if he continued down this path.
Khaji Da must've sensed the boy's guilt, for the scarab's voice played inside of his mind. 'It was necessary.'
"Was it?"
'SHIELD will be upon us at any moment, and we must return to the museum. I believe the secret to repairing my corrupted files lies there.' There was a momentary pause, as if the being was contemplating how to word it's next point. 'Your concept of morality is flawed, Jaime Reyes. You spare the lives of others, risking your own in the process. You feel...guilt...for doing what you need to in order to survive. These considerations will get you killed. Cast them off, Jaime Reyes.'
He reached up, his claws wrapping about the steering wheel. His hands were not his own. Covered in that layered, insectoid material and glistening like onyx, they were distinctly inhuman. Time dragged on and minutes passed with Jaime doing nothing but staring at those hands in total silence. Khaji Da attempted to break the silence.
'Jaim-' He was not allowed to finish.
"Shut up." Reyes snapped. "Just- for one second- stop. Talking. I can't go anywhere covered in...you...so if there's anyway you can-"
The skin peeled away, snapping and bending to reveal the sickly looking flesh underneath. Jaime's flesh. It looked like he hadn't gotten any sun in months, and there was a sickeningly sticky residue left in the armor's wake. He watched the chitin fold backward over itself until it disappeared underneath his clothing. A shaken hand slipped down to pull up his T-shirt, revealing the armor hidden underneath.
It was a stark reminder of who really owned his body now.
Jaime had to take a moment to adjust the rearview, just to look himself in the face. He'd never seen himself so white before. His hair, usually so wild and untamed, was slathered against his skull with whatever substance Khaji Da left behind.
"This deal's getting worse by the minute." He grumbled under his breath as he started the car.
Washington, D.C
One Hour Later
One shower in a dirt cheap motel room later and Jaime was- reluctantly- standing before the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. Police tape was drawn between the entrance's massive pillars of marble, and a veritable army of FBI, SHIELD and local law enforcement agents were moving in and out of the broken doorway. The summer sun was obscured behind it's vaulting roof, casting the evening shadow over his head.
"This is a bad idea, ese." He whispered under his breath, his head kept low. He'd bought a ballcap and a pair of sunglasses at a kiosk on his way here, but it made for a pitiful disguise when facing down a hundred trained cops. "How are we supposed to get in there without getting spotted?"
'These men could not stop us if they wanted to.'
"Dios mío, ese, we're not attacking these guys." Jaime spun around, trying to act like he was lost and not at all suspiciously searching for a way inside. "Maybe we can...I dunno...distract them? Get them all to go somewhere else while we head inside?"
'If you insist, I will require one of their communications devices.'
With a shake of his head he began to scan the area more closely until his gaze fell upon an armored vehicle bearing the mark of the FBI on it's side. Several agents were gathered around it, though it looked like they were starting to disperse. Taking in a sharp breath, conscious of all the myriad of ways this could go wrong, Reyes started toward the command post.
He waited until they had all gone their separate ways, the vehicle's sliding door shut and presumably locked as they climbed the steps toward the crime scene. Jaime made sure the coast was clear before jogging up to it, trying the lock. "Damn." He rasped. "Can you-"
The Scarab knew what was desired before Jaime had even finished, his right arm quickly covered in it's protective shell and his digits replaced by hyper sharp claws. He stabbed the claws into the space between the door and the rest of the vehicle's frame, trying to break the lock.
"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing, kid?" A voice, gruff and aging, called from behind him. Reyes turned to see a man in beige khakis and a polo, the badge of the Federal Bureau of Investigation worn about his pencil-like neck.
"I was just-" Reyes started, only for his free hand to whip forward without his consent, slamming into the agent's nose with enough force to snap it. Jaime's eyes went wide in shock, looking down at his bare hand-
'He doesn't need the armor to...'
'Secure his communications device, Jaime Reyes, quickly.'
There wasn't time to think about it, no matter how horrifying the revelation. It wouldn't matter if the FBI arrested him and sent him back to SHIELD. Reyes bent down and tore the radio from the man's hip. He placed it into the extended part of his chitin, watching with the same sickening disgust as the melding process began. He felt the radio become a part of him, slithering up into the armor and disappearing without a trace.
He could hear static in his ears. Inside of his ears.
'Name an important building in this city.'
"W-what? Why-"
'Now.'
"T-the capitol building? I guess? What the hell are you-"
'A seat of central governance, I presume. Good.'
Then Reyes felt a tingle in his throat, and suddenly, the ability to speak was stolen from him. Yet he felt his throat rumble all the same, his mouth opening as a voice not his own spoke from Jaime's body. "There has been a chemical attack on the capitol building. I repeat, chemical weapons have been unleashed on our capitol building. All units, please converge immediately."
It felt like someone had struck Jaime right in the stomach, but it worked. His soul may be damned, but the plan worked. He could see the panic spreading through the police and federal agents as the message spread between all of them. It overtook every emergency channel in a matter of seconds.
Jaime didn't know it at the time, but that same message would spread across the internet like a virus in mere minutes.
'TERROR ATTACK IN WASHINGTON, DC?'
The world would know the voice of Khaji Da, and it would bring with it the first seeds of terror and lies.
