Song: We Are The Brave - VERIDIA

As I arrive at the park, I skid to a halt and wildly look around. Strobe lights and blaring pop music from giant speakers fill the air. Party blowers occasionally blast nearby. Scents of funnel cake and fresh-baked cookies taunt my nose hairs. Dancers and clowns on stilts give the feeling of a circus to the atmosphere. Many citizens wear goofy confetti hats and sunglasses shaped as "2015", and others are dressed down.

    Despite how tall I am, I have to crane my neck to see over the queue of people. I rotate 360 degrees in my efforts to spot Evelyn, but I can't find her. The bomb could be set off any minute now. I can't be too late; I will not let someone else I care about get killed.

    Beside me, Michelangelo keeps jumping up and down to see over the crowds. Luckily, everyone is too caught up in New Year's Eve to notice a mutant turtle among them. Even as he scurries between groups to get deeper into the park, they still pay him no attention. Eventually, the turtle's orange bandana tails evaporate into the crowd and I don't see him again.

    Suddenly, the famous study bench comes into view. I expect to see a bob of blonde hair and a face covered by a book, but the bench is taken by an elder couple. They look up and offer friendly smiles, to which I spin away too fast to return.

    I continue wading through the crowd towards the other end of the park. The loud music and gleeful shouts fade into the background as I wander to a more secluded area. The bare trees grow spooky as I approach the graveyard, and my heart wants to stop when I see a familiar grave. Wilted flowers lay on the ground in front of a newly-erected stone. Engraved on it is a name that still haunts my nightmares and deepest regrets. However, I don't get choked up like I used to. Maybe we are growing numb to the idea of losing others, after all.

    The very shape I've been searching all over the park for is hunched over a few feet away. My heart lurches, and I dart over to the figure.

    "Evelyn!" I gasp.

    Evelyn looks up from her position, her blue eyes sparkling with astonishment. She blinks, and it gets replaced with a faint sign of happiness. "Casey! I didn't know you were here!"

   "Yeah," I say as I look down at where she sits. She is in front of another grave, but it looks more worn than Charlotte's. It has started to grow a light layer of moss around the bottom, and the engravement is slightly faded. I can still make out the words "In loving memory, Evelyn Violet."

    "Who's that?" I ask curiously, tilting my head to one side.

    Evelyn glances at the grave, hesitates, and then turns back to me. "She was a family member," she explains. Her tone seems guarded.

    "She has the same name as you," I remark thoughtfully.

    Evelyn nods, her blue eyes fixed on the ancient ground in front of her. "She was very important to my parents. She died from cancer."

    No note of sadness haunts her tone, though that's classic Evelyn. An unreadable robot, as always. However, a pang of despair taps my chest as I place my hand on her shoulder. For a moment, it's as if the cruel world around us melts away. A beautiful sunset paints the air around us, and clouds of tranquility seem to float by. She stares back into my eyes with a deep understanding that can only come from someone who shares your soul. The gaping hole in my stomach closes and all the tension leaves my body. Suddenly, everything seems to make sense.

    And as quick as the feeling arrives, it's gone. Evelyn lets out an abrupt, ear-piercing scream. She jumps up and stands behind me with her shoulders squared, her face more pale than usual. "Casey, there's a mutant behind you!" she exclaims, mortified.

    I spin around with my baseball bat drawn. It's a false alarm, however; it's just Michelangelo, who looks just as terrified as we do.

    "Relax, Goldie," I tell Evelyn while shaking my head. "That's just my friend. He's cool."

    "Hey, dudette! I'm Michelangelo!" The turtle puts on his best smile and biggest puppy dog eyes. He poses in the most non-threatening way, but he doesn't seem to persuade her.

    Evelyn's eyes are filled with pure shock- it's rare to see her so filled with emotion. "B-but you said mutants are bad!" she stammers. She is visibly shivering, and I know it isn't from the cold.

    "Not all of them," I correct her. I guess I should have told her about the turtles at one point, but is isn't something that comes up in a casual conversation. And I can't just go, 'Hey, wanna meet my mutant turtle friends that are twice your size and know Ninjutsu?' That surely would have sent her running.

    "I'm here to save your life!" Michelangelo puts his fists on the sides of his shell and lifts his chin.

    Evelyn looks at me as if waiting on me to explain further.

    "You have to go home," I tell her as I tug her onto her feet. "There's a bomb somewhere in this park. Mikey and I are gonna find it and take it out before it goes off."

    To my surprise, Evelyn starts laughing. "You're kidding, right?" she asks between giggles. "Spare me, Casey. I am not falling for another one of your pranks."

    Michelangelo and I exchange glances. Whatever flashes between us must startle her, because her laughter breaks off immediately.

    "Wait, you're serious?" Evelyn questions softly. When we nod, her usual, stone-filled expression returns. "You've got to tell the authorities. Call the FBI. Get the bomb squad here, now."

    I grab her shoulders to silence her. "You really think someone is going to believe a punk teenager and a giant talking turtle?" I ask as my eyes stare into hers. She doesn't respond, so I go on, "We've got to do this ourselves. Now, have you seen anything strange?"

    Evelyn shakes her head. "No, I haven't." As I start to back away, though, she adds, "I'll help you find it."

    I study her for a moment. My whole point of finding her was to send her home. Her joining our dangerous operation defeats the purpose of me protecting her. What if she gets killed? I am not ready to watch her die to the same mutants as Charlotte.

    However, I know she isn't going to take no for an answer. I suppose she is trying to punish me for putting myself in harm's way all the time. The ironic thing is that her plan is working; I genuinely consider just giving up so she won't get involved. But my common sense and pride will not allow me.

    "Alright, you can help," I relent. "But you can only help with finding this bomb. Nothing else."

    Evelyn nods. She has no idea what she just agreed to. Sometimes, she is a lot more naïve than she realizes.

    At our mutual agreement, Michelangelo happily bolts off into the crowd. I notice Evelyn eyeing him warily as we follow. "Are you sure we can trust him?" she speaks in a low voice so he won't overhear.

    "I'd trust him with my life," I answer without a doubt. "He's a great guy- er, turtle. Just trust him."

    Evelyn is silent for a few heartbeats, and then she murmurs, "I trust you."

    Even though that's not necessarily what I want out of her, it's enough to satisfy me. A tiny smile spreads across my face and I increase my speed. We have to find the bomb before it gets activated.

    We search until we have exhausted all resources. We check behind buildings, above street lights, and under people's shoes. We even split up and agree to meet back at the bench. But expanding our eye-view doesn't help anything; it just helps us fail faster.

    By the time we meet back at the bench, I have lost almost all my hope. And by the sight of my partners, they aren't much better off.

    "I found nothing," Evelyn informs me, her face glowing pink from the exercise.

    "Me too," I mumble dis-heartedly.

    "Me, three," Michelangelo whimpers. Then he whips out a suitcase from behind his back. "Except, I found this! Someone had forgotten in on the fountain. I tried to find the owner, but everyone just ran away screaming! I don't know why."

    My jaw drops. Evelyn and I exchange glances that prove we're thinking the same thing. The bomb is in the suitcase!

    I snatch the object from Michelangelo and ignore his protest. I set the case on the ground and open it. My mind whirls as I stare at all the technology inside. Green, red, and blue wires intertwine around each other. Lights flash and a timer reveals a countdown of two minutes.

    "Well, I can confirm that is a bomb," Evelyn murmurs.

    "We need to call Donnie!" Michelangelo suggests worriedly. "He would know what to do!"

    "We don't have our phones," I remind him. I wish I had retrieved mine before we left Shredder's lair, but it's long gone now.

    "I have mine." Evelyn slips her cell phone out of her pocket and offers it to me.

    I shake my head. "No, it won't work. Donnie doesn't have his phone either."

    Evelyn puts her phone away and twists her lips into a frown. "Well, I don't know anything about bombs, but I did get an A in physical chemistry last year," she explains. "Maybe I can make a few estimated guesses."

    "Forget that!" Michelangelo squeaks as he puts out the blade on his nunchucks. "Let's just cut random wires!"

    "No!" Evelyn and I shout. I leap forward and ram into him, but I'm not quick enough. He cuts two of the wires and the clock starts to go down twice as fast.

    I climb off Michelangelo and stare at the sight in terror. "Mikey, you idiot! Look what you've done!"

    Michelangelo spits out a clump of snow and mud. "I was only trying to help," he groans, before letting his head fall back onto the ground with a thump.

    "Casey, it's at forty seconds," Evelyn couldn't seem less worried. The only clue that she is truly afraid is the stressed twinkle in her icey-blue gaze.

    "Well, now's the time to use that chemistry mumbo-jumbo!" I shoot back impatiently.

    Evelyn glares at me. "I'm not a chemistry major! I don't even know if it will work!"

    "It better work, or the whole city is done for," I snap.

    Evelyn takes a deep breath. Her face is as white as a sheet. "Ok, um... Try cutting the green wire," she suggests.

    I grab Michelangelo's weapon and hook the blade around the wire, but Evelyn stops me.

    "No, wait. It might me the blue wire." Her voice is quiet and thoughtful, as if she's lost in thought. "But it could just as easily be the red one, because it is connected to the reacting component."

    "Pick a wire!" I yell. My palms are beginning to sweat with nerves.

    "The green one," Evelyn decides.

    "Are you sure?" I growl. "Because if you're not right, then-"

    "Cut the dang wire, Jones!" Evelyn snarls impatiently.

    I do just that. And by some miracle, it works! The clock stops, flickers, and poofs into a dark screen. The computer system goes offline, and the rest of the bomb short-circuits.

    "Woohoo!" Michelangelo shouts gleefully from behind us as he breaks out into a victory dance.

    "We saved the park!" I gasp, impulsively throwing my arms around Evelyn. Then realizing what I'm doing, I quickly release her and blush a deep red color.

    The only color that returns to Evelyn's face is a pastel pink. Is she embarrassed? "What now?" she asks, and I don't miss the tiny smile tracing her frozen lips.

    I'm not prepared for such a question. Frankly, I didn't expect to make it this far. But now that we have, we've got to come up with another plan.

    "There are still two bombs around the city," I tell Michelangelo.

    "Two?!" Evelyn's complexion pales once more.

    I carry on, disregarding her interruption. "Leo and Donnie are going after one, so we should head for the last location. Maybe they'll meet us there and we can take it down together."

    Evelyn grabs my shoulder and forces me to look at her. "You're not seriously going straight towards another bomb?" she inquires in disbelief.

    I frown. "I have to. No one else is going to."

    Evelyn blinks sadly. Her hand loosens its hold on me and she drops it to her side. "You're a fool, Jones," she says.

    I shrug. "Maybe so, but only a fool is stupid enough to throw himself at a bomb for the sake of this city. I'll remember what you've taught me to save us."

    Evelyn lifts her head a little higher. "If the only thing you learn from me being your tutor is to cut the green wire, then I'll take it," she replies with a hint of fondness in her voice.

    A smirk threatens to overtake me. "Go home and lock the doors." I don't want to leave her, but I have no choice. I turn my attention back to Michelangelo, nod and say, "Let's end this."