I express my gratitude towards:

PottsXStark- Haha, thanks!

Haytar96- Thanks, I'm glad you like! SO sorry for the delay.

Fighter1357- Oh man, my apologies. Haha, anyway, thanks!

Guest- Thanks!

SilverPedals1402- Haha, thanks! Glad you enjoyed. :)

PercyJacksonLover14- Haha, thanks! That compliment means a lot! I know, right? And you're welcome. :)

M.I. - Thanks, and sorry for the delay!

imaAvenger- Haha, I know... And thankfully I don't, or I wouldn't be able to read some of the books I do! :O

Alice. Dreamer 15- Thanks! And don't worry, it's no problem. :)

I AM SO FLEAKING SORRY YOU GUYS. I HAD NO INTENTIONS OF BEING AWAY FOR SO LONG.

I started getting "HURRY UP" PMs and I figured I'd better update, or suffer the consequences. Anyway, you probably don't want excuses, but here I go anyway: I was on a trip to Tennessee I earned being at the top of the middle school, my sister failed kindergarten and I've been tutoring her, feverishly hoping to still get her in first, my mom is really sick, our truck was stolen, and some other personal stuff. XP

GOOD THINGS: We've got a new vehicle, we think my sis may be dyslexic(which just means she'd have to learn differently and can learn better), I got over writer's block, AND I RODE A ROLLER COASTER FOR THE FIRST TIME. The first I rode? The Wild Eagle, the tallest one in the park with NOTHING under your feet. The second? The Tennessee Tornado, the fastest. I had this habit of singing really loudly right before we plunged straight down(which scared me more than going upside down!), which made it really melodramatic, haha. The one that scared me most was Thunderhead, and it was only terrifying because it was wooden. It didn't even go upside down, but the whole time I was screaming, "HELP ME, I'M NOT SUICIDAL!" Haha.

Anyway, enjoy. This chapter is different than past ones, I think you'll find. Not only does it have more action, it combines elements from- well, you'll see. :)

I don't own IMAA.

Chapter Nine

Pepper had left Stark Towers far behind her when she stopped on calmer section of the sidewalk and hugged her midsection tightly, trying to regain her composure. How could she have missed something so painfully obvious? She wished someone else were there to share in her misery or at least to ease some of the self-deprecation off of her shoulders; not that she deserved as much.

She had run nearly four blocks before she realized she couldn't see due to her blurry vision. Pressing close to a building, she wiped irritably at her eyes, glaring at her scuffed converse as though they were to blame for everything that had gone wrong. Honestly! How could she have missed something so painfully obvious as the presence of a woman who should be dead? Maria Stark, at that? She gave herself a moment to relax before striding away, ignoring the looks she had earned from passerbys.

A moment later she nearly collided with an elderly man. She stumbled back, observing the large crowd he was walking towards, wondering what they were all staring at. This became apparent as she shoved through the crowd, catching sight of several television screens through the thick glass of a shop window; they were all on the same news broadcast channel.

"The Sentinels will appear in New York City as early as tomorrow evening," the young woman was saying grimly into the camera. "Rest assured, parents, that your children will be safe from mutants within mere weeks."

"The Sentinels?" Pepper asked, paling. "They were approved?"

The Sentinels had started out as policemen-like anti-mutant activists who roamed the streets, frisking, incarcerating, and often assaulting, New Yorkers they suspected of being a mutant. Over time, when mutant pandemonium reached its peak, the concept had been taken to Hammer Multinational and had evolved into robotic "defenders"; also known as thirty-foot-tall murdering androids keyed in to the mutants' genetic code.

"You're not a mutie sympathizer, are you?" the elderly man asked her suspiciously, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Several others turned at hearing his accusation, and Pepper felt a brief flare of panic; anyone who commiserated with the inhumans was treated almost as cruelly as the mutants themselves.

"Of course not," she said curtly, as though it was an egregiously ridiculous idea. "I want those freaks in lock and key before they start blowing up innocent children." Seemingly convinced with her answer, everyone turned back to the screens, where a reporter was now telling about the gruesome murders mutants had committed in the last few weeks across the globe; conveniently leaving out anything about the dozens of innocent inhumans being slaughtered in Manhattan.

Feeling slightly queasy now, Pepper turned, wanting to leave as quickly as possible. If she got into even more trouble now…

She was about to step onto the road and hurry across the street while she had the go-ahead from the crossing lights when her phone rang. A man with a briefcase gave her a small glare as she bumped into him as she turned, pausing on the sidewalk to answer the call. The number wasn't shown, which was peculiar. Somewhat hesitantly, expecting one of those vexatious telemarketers would answer, she answered, "Hello?" Silence replied, except for an underlying buzzing noise. "Hello-?"

Screech!

A black sedan shot through the red light, downing several of the civilians crossing the street. As the two others knocked down stirred, injured, on the ground, the man Pepper would have been walking beside lay motionless facedown, his briefcase a few feet from his head. A moment later all four doors of the vehicle burst open, and three masked men and one woman leaped out, automatic firearms perched on their shoulders as they ordered everyone to the ground. Chaos broke out; men and women panicked and ran for shelter, some dialing the New York Police Department as they scurried away, and others nearer the instigators of the incident simply stayed rooted in shock.

"I said get down!" one man barked, and as he brought his weapon's sights to focus at eyelevel, Pepper was the first to react. She shouted for others to duck as she pulled an elderly man and a little girl to the ground, and a second later a volley was released on the fleeing citizens. Dozens dropped like marionettes whose strings had been cut, with a short cry or startled gasp. The man beside her covered the trembling girl's eyes so she didn't see the felled, but Pepper, almost numb with horror, risked a peek to see what the murderers were doing. Two were crouching beside the victims and searching their pockets or purses for anything of value and frisking those still alive at gunpoint; the others were making sure the cars that hadn't sped off were empty while keeping their eyes on the windows of commercial buildings.

As they neared, the redhead crawled over to a woman lying half on the sidewalk and half on the road, her white blouse stained with crimson. She was in the process of applying pressure to the wound when there was a sharp pain on her head and she found herself being dragged back by the roots of her hair. She struggled violently as she was kicked in the side, her purse torn from her shoulder, and her anger flared with blue flames when she saw the injured woman being roughly searched for valuables. One man forced her to her feet and held her arms over her head while the female assailant checked her pockets and purse for items of any value. This is just a common occurrence now, Pepper thought bitterly. A few sparse muggers and thieves have escalated into mass murderers that wipe their victims clean of anything monetary. It just proves how badly the city needs a defender-needs Tony.

Wasn't anyone coming? Or was the NYPD too busy with criminal activity elsewhere? Was it possible they were staking out the rooftops, knowing they couldn't do anything with civilians at risk, or was it the unthinkable and no one cared they were being slaughtered?

As the woman was dropped back to the ground with a faint whimper, Pepper pleaded, "She needs to staunch the blood flow or she'll bleed out-"

"Yes, because we really care if she dies," the man searching her purse said sardonically as he dropped her belongings and hefted his gun. "See, the police haven't shown up yet. They have better fish to fry elsewhere. Then where's the FBI? SWAT? Anyone? S'far as I'm concerned, that gives us a free pass to silence who we like." As if to prove it he cocked the gun and hovered his finger over the trigger. However, before he could shoot her a car parked on the curb a few feet from them revved its engine threateningly.

"What the-? I thought you said you checked all the cars that didn't drive off!" the man shouted.

"I did!" the woman retorted irritably across the street, having not heard the motor. "Don't know what you're griping 'bout."

"Let's just finish up here and leave. The police will probably man up and bust up in here soon," the fourth thug shouted. "Shoot the survivors."

This order was never completed, as the Chevrolet that had captured their attention moments prior ground away from the curb with a shrill whine and slammed into the artillery-wielder closest to Pepper. Before anyone could rush to his aid all of the lights on the street dimmed, blanketing them in near darkness, and through the oppressive obscurity they heard the threatening purr of another motor, and another, and then nearly every car revving its engine in the vicinity, as though warning them, You just try it.

The remaining thugs panicked, and they had cleared out in under a minute, abandoning their own mutinous vehicle and footing it. A few moments passed by in silence, save for the growling of the motors, before the lights again illuminated the street and the cars were silenced. Pepper could only sit there, leaning back and propping herself up with her palms, still dazed with shock. She might have stayed like that all night had she not heard the whine of ambulances in the distance nearing and heard the light moans of those in pain around her.

When the paramedics and NYPD arrived at long last, Pepper approached a hassled-looking officer standing off to the side, speaking into his hand-held walkie-talkie. She tried to keep her voice toneless so that the fury in it couldn't be heard when she asked, "What the heck took you so long getting here?"

"Miss, please, it's been a rough day…"

"It's been a rough day? Seriously? That's all you can say? I'm very certain that my day topped any bad day you've ever had," Pepper snarled, not bothering to mask the fury in her voice. "What- took- you guys- so -freaking -long?"

"Well, there were some mutants in Central we had to attend to, and…" He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting her eyes. "We can't afford to lose any more squad members. There have been six more police casualties this week alone, and the numbers of people applying for the force are dwindling. But we came after the shooters left, and we're doing what we can now," he added hastily, seeing the pale look on the redhead's face.

Pepper could only walk away; knowing that anything she said or did would only end badly. At least she had gained something from the traumatic escapade.

The knowledge that Tony was still looking after her.