Chapter 30: In the Dark and In the Air

"There's no need to cry," Ada said to Joey.

Joey shook and teared as he rode in the back of the limousine. He felt bruised, almost shattered, and he clutched his struggling dog tightly, trying to draw some level of comfort from the animal. Scrappy just growled and kicked in his jacket, obviously not liking where he was. But Joey's mind was elsewhere. Within the last hour he had realized that his powers were not under his control, that he had been programming both himself and all the women in his life with it, and that was why he had to leave them. And now he was sitting in the back of a limousine with a new uncle he had never heard of before, and a new aunt, to start a new life.

The smells in the back of this car were new and odd. Behind the aroma of fabric cleanser he could detect the rich, womanly scent of his new Aunt Ada, and he glanced up at her. She was a breathtakingly beautiful woman, older than Tricia, in her mid-thirties probably, with long blond hair, full lips, flawless skin and devilish eyes. Generous breasts stretched her tight shirt, and she crossed her long bare legs. He could see the subtle signs of flirtation, for she was doing that slithering motion he recognized in Tricia. She inhaled deeply, pushing her full breasts out and arching her back, and she twisted slightly, showing off her curves, and she licked her lips slightly.

The last thing on Joey's mind was another woman. He turned from her and glanced at his Uncle Jonathan. The man was cold and gray. He sat in a rigid, lifeless stillness, moving his body only when needed. His skin was ashen and dull, his hair flat, and his eyes dark. And he smelled dry and dusty.

Joey wiped his eyes. "Sorry," he responded to Ada. "It's been a hard day."

"Your life will become easier from this point on," Jonathan said, his voice cold and spiritless. "I believe you will adjust quickly. You may grieve for your loss now, but I am certain you will enjoy your new life." He took an odd breath and recited. "For we know that if the earthly text we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Second Corinthians, chapter five, verse one."

"Are you taking me to church?"

"If you are referring to a chapel or a place of worship, then no. But a true church is a state of mind and body, where one is closer to God's vision of creation." He eyed Joey seriously. "That is my intent."

Joey didn't know how to take that, but his body seemed to know. Chills ran through his spine, and for the first time he wondered if he was safe with these two. Scrappy squirmed and kicked in his jacket. "Calm down, bud," Joey whispered to his restless dog. The dog just growled. "Sorry. He's usually nice around others." He swallowed and changed the subject. "So you're my dad's brother." Jonathan nodded. Joey turned to Ada. "Did you know him too?"

"I was the reason for the fight," she said with a grin. "If that makes you angry with me, I'm more than willing to do what it takes to make amends."

Another flirt. Joey sighed silently. He certainly didn't want to deal with another woman throwing herself at him. "No, I'm not angry with you," he said, stroking his dog. "But I can understand. He could get envious. He certainly envied me for my abilities."

"Can hardly blame him," Ada said with a wink. She twirled a lock of hair about her finger, eying him.

"Envy hardens the heart and rots the bones," Jonathan said dryly. "For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice ... James, chapter three, verse sixteen."

Joey squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. "You sure know your Bible," he commented.

Jonathan gave Joey a smile that creeped him out. "It is an endless source of wisdom for any occasion."

"Yeah. It's also read to people when they are hungry, which is kind of missing the whole point of hunger." He looked out the dark tinted windows. "Where are we going?"

"Rockville," his uncle answered.

Joey squinted. "Shouldn't we be taking 16th street north?"

Jonathan gave a noncommittal shrug. "My driver is unfamiliar with the area. I am certain he is simply following the navigator instructions."

Joey nodded and sighed as he looked out. He could see the Potomac river, and wondered if he would ever see it again. He teared up as he thought about his girls, and wanted more than anything to go home to them. But he knew he couldn't, at least as long as he couldn't control his abilities. He clenched his fists, and felt the power inside him, and thought for the first time that maybe this didn't have to be permanent. He shuddered at the thought of this impulsive action he took, and wondered why he did it. He wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe it was because he was so scared of hurting them. Maybe all he needed was some time away from Tricia and Annie to learn how to control his abilities, and they would need time to detox. Maybe he could go home one day.

"Listen," he said, turning back to the two. "I appreciate what you're offering me, but I'm thinking, maybe this should just be temporary. I mean, I love them, and I really don't want to leave them. But I have to." He glanced down at his own fingers. "Just until I can figure something out."

Ada pouted. "Aww. You don't want to give us a chance?"

"Look, I'm sure you're both nice people," he said, not really certain he actually believed that. "But despite the fact that we have a blood relation," he said towards his uncle, "they are my real family."

Jonathan nodded, and shifted in his seat towards Joey. "If that is your wish. It is not my desire to bring you unhappiness. If you do not want to be separated from them, I can guarantee that you will see them again soon, and you will be united with them."

His Aunt Ada seemed to bite her lips at that comment, but she said nothing.

"Thanks," Joey said. His uncle may be a bit creepy-looking, he decided, but Joey liked the way he concerned himself with Joey's well-being. Joey relaxed a bit.

"But this issue you need to resolve, it will take some time?" Jonathan asked.

Joey thought about it. "Yeah." He didn't feel comfortable explaining it to them just yet.

His uncle leaned forward in his seat towards Joey. "Then for as long as you need, you have a home with us. And when you wish to return to your family, you may do so with no argument from us. Is this acceptable?" he asked, extending his dry hand.

Joey paused on this, relaxed, and smiled. His uncle seemed to understand his needs. He nodded and reached out to him. "It's a deal," he said, and he took his hand in a firm handshake.

But as soon as his hand clasped about his uncle's cold hand, the Omegaplasm slipped out, and Joey gasped at what he felt. A wretched coldness had pulled his mind and soul deep into an eternal pit of blackness, and drained into an empty abyss that chilled his heart and lungs. Darkness, death, and despair tore at his being, sucking his life and hopes into a cavern of emptiness. He instinctively yanked his hand back, and stared in a dark horror at the man sitting before him.

There was a moment of silence as Ada and Jonathan watched him. Joey shook as the chills ran through his body, for he realized he was sitting in the back of a limousine with something that was not even remotely human.

"Okay. Don't panic. Think. Think. I'm still alive. I'm not in immediate danger. I am a superhero. I am in EarthGuard. I am intelligent. I can figure this out."

Sandy felt around in the darkness. Touching the walls of her safe room seemed to anchor her, keeping her calm. She didn't want to fall into despair over being blind. "First things first. I need help. Do I do something that blows my cover?" She thought about her extended family. Both parents and two sisters, plus their husbands and kids. If she revealed herself as a superhero, they would all be put in danger. "No. Out of the question," she decided. "How do I call EarthGuard?" She thought about it. "Can I call them? Communicator is a touch-screen, and I can't use my laptop anymore. No. I need help from EMT. Get a neighbor to call. Need to get out, get out of costume, into some clothes, and find a neighbor."

"How do I get out of here?" She felt the mirror. "Break the mirror? And crawl through a hole lined with broken glass? Hell no." She felt around to the section where the doorway was sealed. "Drywall. Easy to get through. I've got a sledge hammer." She thought some more, doing long-term planning. "That leaves a big hole in the wall, and neighbors or EMT see the safe room when they come in to help me, and my cover's blown." She thought some more. "Anyone comes into the house, they see the weapons downstairs, find the costumes in my closet, and my cover is blown. No. I need the safe-room to keep all my equipment, and I need to keep the safe room sealed."

She didn't know how to get out yet, but she knew the first thing to do was to start transferring everything related to Quantum Knight into the safe room. She reached out with her powers and started tunnelling every weapon in the house into her hands, and stacked them in the side of the safe-room. Katanas, battle-staff, nunchaku, sledge hammer, nettings, throwing stars, knives, grenades, taser-whip, shield, broadsword, flail, mace, handguns, rifles, shotgun, ammunition, and the BFG-9000. Other equipment followed; Jaws of life, defibrillator, first aid kit, fire extinguisher, handcuffs. She ported spare costumes, and removed her current costume, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

Clad only in her underwear, she returned to the mirror and spread her fingers over the glass. "How do I get out now?" She tried to picture her bedroom, estimating distances with her heightened skills in spacial awareness honed from her eight years of teleportation experience. "The top of the bed is about twenty four inches from the floor. The mattress is about eighty inches long and about seventy, seventy five inches wide. It's about ... fifty-five inches from the wall." She concentrated and crouched down. "I'm at the same height of the bed, and need to go at least thirty five inches up, ninety five inches forward, and about forty inches right. I can do this. I can do it. It's clear. It's..."

She felt movement in her townhouse. Schrödinger's collar bounded up the stairs from a lower level, traced through the hall, and slinked into the bedroom. "Kitty? Hey girl!" Sandy called softly. She could hear her cat meow expectantly at her. "I'm in here. Stay off the bed, Schrödinger. Be a good kitty and stay off the..."

She felt the collar jump two feet into the air and pad around just where she thought the bed was.

"Damn it cat! Get off the bed! I need to teleport there!"

The collar moved about the bed, circled the center, and then pushed down onto the bed in a squirming motion. "Oh no! DON'T DON'T!" she screamed, but Sandy felt the collar drop onto the center of the bed, laying flat on the bedspread. And judging from the position of the collar, either Schrödinger managed to stick her head directly into a hole in the mattress, a hole which wasn't there yesterday, or she had once again managed to pry her collar off.

"No! NO! Bat kitty! Get off the bed! ... Are you still on the bed?" Sandy clawed at the mirror and listened. She heard a faint meow from somewhere in the bedroom, and she pushed her forehead against the mirror. "Please. Get off the bed. Mommy needs to teleport there!" The collar lay motionless.

"Damn cat. Should have listened to Shadow Fire's advice and gotten a house boy instead." She searched her weapons, and pulled out four throwing daggers. She returned to the mirror, concentrated on the collar, and tried to judge the positions of the corners of the bed around the collar. She teleported a dagger into the room and felt it clatter against the floor. She brought it back, tried again, and felt the dagger bounce, tumble, and settle two feet higher. She took a second dagger, concentrated on a new location, and the first dagger suddenly swatted to the floor.

"SCHRÖDINGER! THOSE ARE NOT TOYS! STOP PLAYING WITH MY DAGGERS!" She could hear the cat meowing and hissing at her weapon. She tried a second dagger, but the damn cat knocked it off the bed again. Sandy groaned and cursed, and pulled the daggers back into her hand. "God damn it! Why didn't I plan for this contingency?" She held back a sob, and centered herself. "I need to feel the whole room," she decided. "I need to..."

She thought about the grenades.

"Grenades! Yes!" She dug in the pile of weapons and pulled out a grenade. "Not the destructive ones, but a smoke grenade. Here." The capsule fit snugly in her hand, and she returned to the mirror. "Okay, you stupid cat. You asked for it." She concentrated on the smoke grenade, fully entangling herself to the entire weapon, and not just the small casing around it. She could feel it becoming warm in her hand as she built the connections to every atom in the weapon.

"Oh, God. I hate to see what this will do to my bedroom, but on the other hand, it'll make a plausible excuse for my injuries." The grenade now fully entangled to her, Sandy concentrated on the area about five feet above the floor, pulled the pin, and teleported the grenade.

She felt it fall, bounce on her bed, and get swatted immediately. "Cat! GET AWAY FROM THE..."

FOOOSH! "MREEEOOW!" Sandy felt the smoke ejecting from the capsule, blasting a cat-shaped object which scampered away, and the grenade spun and twisted chaotically on the floor. Meanwhile a large blob of entangled smoke filled the cube-shaped room, sweeping around furniture and drapes and around air vents. She could feel it envelope the entire room, defining the safe areas, and Sandy took a deep breath and targeted the spot just above the bed-shaped void in the cloud of smoke.

VRAAMM! She landed on the soft bed coated with smoke, and rolled towards the head of her bed. The smoke grenade continued to spin and fill the room with the choking cloud of gas, and she grabbed a pillow, stuffed her face into it, and stumbled out the door into the hallway. She was coughing and gasping for breath, trying to breathe through the pillow, and the cuts on her arms and legs stung as she made her way down the hallway and into a spare bedroom. She shut the door behind her, felt her way to the window, and opened it. Cool, fresh air filled her lungs, and blew entangled particles off her body.

She leaned against the window for a moment, just taking in several breaths of fresh air. The sunlight appeared as red blotches against the blackness in her vision, and reminded herself of her next tasks. "Clothes. Then help. And then I can cry."

"Is something the matter?" Uncle Jonathan asked.

"No," Joey managed. "What the hell is he?" Joey had never experienced anything like this before when touching people. The Omegaplasm would try to enter people, and he would be able to get some sense of them. Maybe a flash of thought, or a sense of intrusion, but always there was a fulfilling presence of life and animation. But in his Uncle Jonathan, it was the exact opposite, a cavernous emptiness of death and disorder trying to consume him. He stared at the man, seeing him as a walking dead man for the first time. The man did look like a zombie, if a well preserved one. His uncle stared back, waiting for more of a response. "I just..." Joey thought quickly. "He's not my uncle, obviously. And I'm in trouble. Need to stall and think."

"It's all ... just so much, you know?"

Jonathan digested this for a moment, and smiled. "I understand," he said in his cold voice. "It is a large change, is it not?"

Joey glanced at Ada. "And not my aunt either." He could now see subtleness in her body language for what it really was. Although she was flirting with him, Joey could tell she had simply no interest in her supposed husband, not that he blamed her. She simply never touched him, or even leaned into his direction. There was no affection at all. Her dark eyes met his. "Maybe there is something we can do to make life easier." She cocked her head at him. "What do you like to do?"

"Um..." "I need to get out of here." He swallowed, and looked about, trying to plan an escape. "Well, I draw. What about you? What do you do?"

She slithered a bit. "This and that. I do modelling. Dancing." She shifted in her seat. "If you ever need someone to draw, I'm available."

"Of course," Joey said to himself. "Walked into that." He diverted the conversation to his supposed uncle. "What about you? What do you do for a ... living?" He inadvertently hesitated on the last word, recognizing the irony.

Jonathan considered him for a moment. "One could say my specialty is to prolong things past their expirations, but in this case I will not." He pulled out a gun and pointed it as Joey. Joey went cold, his eyes frozen on the handgun.

"What are you doing?" Joey asked, trying to stay calm.

"No longer prolonging this charade, and confirming your suspicions." A sickly green energy oozed out of Jonathan's face, and Joey cringed as he could see and hear the bones cracking and flesh melting and reshaping. Jonathan's face changed slightly, losing what family resemblance he had. "No, I am not your long-lost uncle, and you were a fool to believe it for a moment. Luckily for me I have an associate who made certain you were going through a emotional trauma when you needed a clear head to make a simple decision."

Joey stared at the new man. "I know you," he said, his voice shaking. "Tombspawn. I remember you."

"It is good to see you again, Joseph. It has been many years."

"What's with the shape-shifting? You couldn't do that before."

Tombspawn smiled. "I have your father to thank for that. When he killed me, he unleashed my true power. I control dead bodies, and now that I am in one, I can control myself. Death actually augments me."

Joey glanced down at the gun again. "So what is this about? Why do you want me? Is this revenge? Because my dad killed you and made you, what, stronger? That's what you're angry about?"

"This is not anger. This is ambition." He leaned back into his seat, keeping the gun trained on Joey. "And I know what you are thinking. I am aware of your abilities. I saw what you did to Desdemona, and I know the appearance of your power-draining ability. So keep this in mind; If I see your eyes or hands darken for a moment, I will not hesitate to shoot you."

Joey swallowed nervously, and watched Ada sit up and shift closer to Tombspawn, within a closer reach to the gun. "Okay. Can't do power draining. If he's some zombie, power keeps him alive, and the draining would work on him. It might take him out, but it'll leave her in reach of the gun, and I can't trust her either. I need ... I need help." He glanced at the door, and saw it was locked, and then looked out the window. He could see they were crossing the Francis Scott Key memorial bridge. Far down the Potomac River he could see the curved buildings of the Watergate apartments, Snow Angel's home. "Call EarthGuard. Get help." He squirmed in his seat, pushing his arms closer to his jacket pockets, trying to locate his phone.

He needed to stall them, keep them distracted. "So where are you taking me really?" He could feel the small box-shaped item in his right pocket, and slipped his hand back to reach it.

"Rockville, as I said. We have a facility there. And keep your hands where I can see them."

Joey had just managed to get his hand into his pocket, and if he had found his phone, he would have been able to hit the emergency call button. But it wasn't his phone. Instead it was a small cardstock box which rattled from its contents as he grasped it. He pulled it out, and saw it was only the small box of bubble gum he had gotten from his date with Lynne.

His heart sank, but he tried to keep cool about it. "Want some gum?" he asked, opening the box and trying to sound casual. "So, what do you want with me?"

"I have a project in mind," Tombspawn replied.

Scrappy growled and squirmed in his jacket, and Joey slipped his hand in to calm his dog. He noticed Tombspawn made no effort to keep him from touching his dog. And as Joey touched Scrappy, he could feel the dog's mind and body. Scrappy was agitated and frustrated. "Sorry for not paying attention to what you were trying to tell me," he silently thought to his dog. "But I'm paying attention now."

"What exactly is this project?"

"Nothing you would want to know the details of now."

Holding the dog in one hand, and the box of bubble gum in the other, it gave him an idea. "Like old times, bud," Joey thought to his dog. Scrappy growled at Tombspawn.

He popped a couple pieces of gum into his mouth and crunched through the candy coating. "Watermelon? Who the hell makes watermelon flavored gum? "So," Joey started, trying to sound casual. "If you don't want to tell me what it is you plan to do to me, that only means I won't like it. Aren't supervillains supposed to explain their plans? Don't you read the comic books?"

Ada crossed her shapely legs and winked at him. "I'll tell you about my plans," she offered.

Joey gave her a once-over, and chewed the two pieces of gum, softening them, and keeping them separate in his mouth. "Not with a ten foot pole, lady."

She dropped her smile and glared at him.

"You may wish to reconsider her offer," Tombspawn replied dryly. "It may be your last opportunity for pleasure."

Joey lifted his bare hands up in front of him and spat the two wads of soft gum into them. "Yeah, well, thanks for the offer and everything, but this is my stop," he said, and he quickly shoved the two wads of soft gum into his ears.

"What are you doing?" Tombspawn asked, alarmed.

But Joey ignored him and grabbed Scrappy. He lifted the squirming dog out of his jacket and summoned the Omegaplasm. Sparks flooded out his hands as he poured the power into the dog, filling his best friend with incomprehensible energy. Tombspawn pointed the gun at the dog.

FLASH!

Scrappy suddenly blazed with a million candlepower light, and Joey squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he heard Tombspawn and Ada shriek in pain from the sudden blinding light. But that wasn't enough. Joey held his dog out as far as possible and yelled "SCRAPPY! SPEAK!"

WOOF!

The sonic explosion detonated in his hands, knocking the dog out of his grasp and numbing his hands. The sound wave knocked him back into his seat, and it shattered the glass of every window and buckled the roof. The car bolted and jumped, skidding out of control, and swerved on the road, throwing him to the floor. When he opened his eyes, Joey could see that Tombspawn and Ada got hit by the sound attack directly, and Tombspawn's flesh was ripped open, his dry muscles exposed and grey. Ada appeared dazed and unhurt and she was sprawled in her seat.

Joey's ears were ringing from the sonic explosion, and his whole body felt numb. He saw the gun on the floor and grabbed it. He quickly climbed to the back window, shoved his shoulder against it, and pushed the cracked safety glass back. "Come on, Bud!" he called his dog. Scrappy jumped out the back with him, and holding a dog in one hand and a gun in the other, Joey crawled out the back of the car and stood on the trunk.

He thought for a moment about unloading the gun into the two passengers in the car, but as he looked at the handgun, the thought repulsed him. He looked to the side of the bridge, and hurled the gun over the side.

Cars behind them had slowed down and stopped, and traffic was starting to pile up behind them. A man got out of his car. "Hey are you okay?" he called out to Joey.

Joey jumped down from the trunk. "Get away! They're..."

SMASH! The front driver's side door exploded off its hinges, and a behemoth of a man stepped out. Joey took one look at the seven foot tall monstrosity and let out a "Holy Fuck..." The misshapen creature in the ill-fitting suit centered on Joey, roared at him, and started stalking him.

Joey started running.

He tucked his dog into his jacket and ran against the flow of traffic between the oncoming cars that were slowing down. "GET BACK! GET AWAY!" he screamed at the people. "SUPERVILLAINS!" He glanced back and watched in horror as the creature bellowed at him and shoved cars aside with his bare hands. He could hear the people in those cars screaming in panic.

In the limousine, Joey could see Tombspawn and Ada crawl out of the wreckage. He saw Tombspawn just shove his skin back onto his face and point to Joey. Ada opened the trunk and pulled out a rifle.

Joey stopped watching and took off, running up the bridge. Cars were stopping and lining up, each one holding a single driver who stared at him in confusion. He could hear the monstrous man roaring at him, and cars being shoved aside. A motorcyclist drove past him, dodging the pile-up, and Joey didn't get a moment to warn him. He saw the motorcyclist dodge the monster, only to be taken out by a fan kick from Ada. With the rifle slung on her back, Ada straddled the motorcycle, revved the engine, and took off towards Joey.

Joey continued running upstream against the traffic. He soon heard the motorcycle pass him, and Ada took a position in front of him, forcing him to stop.

"Nowhere to run, kid," she said to him.

He was trapped. He stood there, breathing heavily, not sure what to do. In front of him was this woman, armed and savage, and as he looked down, he saw that she was tough enough to ride a motorcycle barefooted. Behind him, a behemoth creature approached. And to either side, there was the edge of a bridge.

He had no choice. "That's what you think." And Joey took off, running towards the side of the bridge. He jumped on top of a car, cleared the metal railing, and leapt over the side, with nothing below him except a fifty foot drop to the hard pavement and speeding cars of the George Washington Memorial Parkway.

"GOOD DOG!" Joey screamed as he flooded his dog with Omegaplasm again. Scrappy whimpered and struggled as Joey poured power into him. The dog radiated in an antigravity field, blocking out all gravity in a good four foot radius in every direction, so instead of plummeting to the ground, they continued in the direction of Joey's jump, drifting down the George Washington Memorial Parkway along with the flow of traffic.

They tumbled and spun chaotically in the wind, and Joey clung desperately onto his dog in the weightlessness. He could feel his dog was terrified, and he couldn't blame him. He didn't know if they were gaining or losing altitude, and he needed to get their descent under control, so he pushed his legs out far and adjusted the field, so his feet extended out of the influence of the antigravity. They immediately flipped upright and wobbled and spun slowly. He could see that woman Ada back on the bridge watching him and pulling her rifle off her shoulder.

He feet, now affected by gravity, pulled him downward, and Joey landed in the center of a lane on the parkway. Cars roared past him, and horns bellowed. A large eighteen wheeler tractor-trailer barreled towards him, the driver leaning on the air horn.

"FUCK!" Joey cried, and he boosted the antigravity and jumped straight up.

They cleared the truck, and as it passed under him, Joey realized he could use the truck. He cut the antigravity off and they fell. They bounced hard and rolled across the dirty, dusty, and slippery metal roof of the trailer. Joey scrambled, trying to grab ahold of any perch to stop his rolling, but there was nothing. They slid and tumbled down the length of the truck, and fell off the edge.

In a blind panic, Joey thrust Scrappy out towards the edge of the truck and flooded the dog with new powers; antigravity, magnetism, strength, and invulnerability. Scrappy latched onto the metal side of the trailer, and yanked Joey hard as the acceleration caught him. He held onto Scrappy with both hands, squeezing him with a strength that would normally have crushed the dog if it were not for the invulnerability, and Joey flopped and smacked against the side of the truck, riding it haphazardly.

He scrambled and kicked, trying to orient himself. Strong winds buffeted his face and body, and dirt in the air stung his eyes. He pushed the antigravity and pulled himself closer to the truck, trying to reach the roof of the vehicle.

The truck groaned and swayed. It jerked and leaned, and Joey could hear the tires screeching as the trailer started to tilt. He realized in horror that the antigravity field was affecting the truck too, removing huge chunks of weight from one side of it, and redistributing the weight of the truck without any warning to the driver. Joey cut the antigravity field. The truck swayed back in his direction, and he flopped and slammed against the truck. He was still clinging desperately to his dog, who was glued onto the side of the truck. That magnetic attraction and Joey's strength was all that was keeping him from falling to the pavement.

"CLIMB SCRAPPY! UP! UP!" Scrappy whimpered and clawed at the truck, and Joey boosted the dog's strength. The Yorkshire terrier scrambled and climbed, and Joey struggled, kicking and grasping at the edge. He managed to get a grip on the top of the truck, and pulled himself up. Winds buffeted him, and he lay on top of the truck, still holding Scrappy with one hand, and breathing heavily.