It was Michaelangelo’s keen eyes which caught sight of the ooze canister. Most of the ooze had been washed away, but there was still some trapped in the bottom of each of the broken halves. Donatello said it was enough to test.
So the broken canister, with the remainder of the ooze, was transported back to the lair.
While Donatello transferred the ooze into alternate containers and began the tests; Leo, Mikey and I tried to remove the clotted mud from the canister to identify it.
“Lemme guess,” said Mike, wiping his soapy hands on his plastron and sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, “It’s TGRI?”
“Actually, no.” replied Leonardo, continuing to scratch away at the dirt on the canister, “Its a different shape and the first two letters read ‘AM’.”
“AM?” I repeated, “What could AM stand for? And what is TGRI?”
“TGRI is the company which made and produced the ooze which first mutated us.” answered Leonardo, “AM, something, something, is probably another company trying the same thing.”
“Man, it’s kinda ironic init?” stated Mikey, “I mean that the canister should contain glowing mutation ooze and end up in the sewers just like when we were mutated. Then Andy ‘just happens’ to find and touch it.”
There was a pause while Leonardo and I stopped scraping away at the canister to consider this. The moment of silence was disturbed by the reappearance of Donatello.
“Eureka?” he offered.
“Do you know what the ooze is then?” I asked.
“Yup.” said Donatello, sitting down next to Michaelangelo and resting his elbows on the table. “See, the ooze contains a chemical which allows different peoples genes to mix creating a combination of the two and a genetic mutation.”
“Is there an antidote?”
“Not yet. But I can work on it.” assured Donatello. I smiled outwardly, but inwardly I wondered what was so great about being human anyway. I had been rejected by the outside world and forced into the sewers where I had found friendship with these remarkable creatures. My change in species and genetic relationship made me feel like I was part of a family, something which I had never experienced before.
“Y’know, if Andy is gonna become one of us then she’ll need a dead artists name.” decided Mikey.
“Well actually she already has a Renaissance artists name.” explained Donatello, “There were quite a number of artists called Andrea, the most famous being Andrea Mantegna.”
“A female Renaissance artist?” I asked curiously.
“No. Male.”
“So I’m named after a dead male artist?”
Donatello smiled. “If you want to think of it like that.”
“I got it!” exclaimed Leonardo suddenly, looking up from the canister, “AMRC. Anyone know what it means?”
“Trouble?” suggested Michaelangelo.
“Quite probably.”
There was no apparent sign of the predicted trouble for the next couple of weeks, however lots of other things were happening to avert my concentration. For a start I was presented with knee, wrist and elbow pads along with a pink bandanna I could wear to mask some of my features and obscure my identity. I was also given a belt with the letter ‘A’ engraved on it.
With Leonardo and Splinter’s help I was learning to use a katana to fight with; while I helped teach Mike, Don and Leo some of the basics of Judo. My days were tiring, but fun.
The only real problem I had was with Raphael. Following the gentle persuasion of Splinter and forceful orders of Leonardo, Raphael had come back into the sewers. I tried to avoid him most of the time, fearing another argument. If Raph and I happened to meet face to face while walking around, then I would scurry past while he stopped and glared at me.
I was not at ease with this arrangement, but for the mean time there was nothing I could do.
“WHHHAAAAAT? All of them?” Michaelangelo’s eyes widened in horror and dismay. Leonardo nodded.
“What am I gonna do?” wailed Mikey, looking pleadingly at everyone.
“Go get some more?” suggested Donatello.
“But its Raphael’s turn this week!” Mike whined, staring into the depressingly empty freezer. “Why do I always have to do his chores? I'm not going. Not this time.”
“Okay, but then you’re gonna starve.” said Don, opening the cupboard to make himself a cup of coffee. “Hey! Who finished off the coffee!”
And there’s no milk left.” pointed out Leonardo, leaning over Michaelangelo’s shell and looking into the fridge. I quietly watched the antics while starting to feel a little hungry myself.
“RAPH!” called Leonardo, “RAPHAEL!!!”
I heard Raphael’s heavy footsteps approach the door. “Yeah, what?” he gruffly asked.
“We’re all outta food. And it’s your turn to get some more.”
“And?”
“Maybe you ought to go to the shops and buy some?” was Leo’s slightly annoyed reply.
“Fuck off Leo. You want the food, you go get it.” Raphael turned and tramped off, leaving Leonardo open mouthed and angry. A few seconds later Leo followed Raph and there was a loud and angry exchange before Leon returned to poke his head into the kitchen.
“He won’t go.” he glowered under his breath before backing out and disappearing off to the room he shared with Donatello.
Mike sighed. “Y’wanna come up to the shops with me Andy?” he asked.
“Yeah, okay.” I said, shrugging. I turned to Donatello, “Donnie, you wanna come?”
“Well, I’ll come up to the surface with you, but April said there was something wrong with her toaster and I said I’d go have a lookie.”
“Okies.”
Having collected the money needed to buy the food (from the account of Splinters old, deceased master, Hamito Yoshi) and leaving Donatello at Aprils, Mikey and I headed for the local super- market. We were both covered head to toe in clothes to hide our appearance from the general public.
There was a teenage boy of about my age that always seemed to be behind Mike and I whenever I looked, but I decided not to worry about it. This was a vital error on my part that would cost both me and others at a later date.
Michaelangelo grabbed a trolley while I stared round at the interior of the shop, trying to some idea of where everything might be.
“So what do we need?” I asked, my voice muffled by the scarf covering my mouth and beak.
“Pizza!” exclaimed Michaelangelo, his voice also muffled. He grabbed my hand and pushed both me and the trolley into the frozen foods area.
As the shopping continued I became aware that Michaelangelo knew exactly where everything was and what he needed to get. I asked him about it as I found the vast shop confusing.
“Cuz I’m the one who ends up having to do all the shopping.” he explained. “Raphael never does it. Donatello does occasionally, very occasionally, but he’ll want a list of exactly what everyone wants, and a map of the shop so he knows exactly where everything is and spends the minimal amount of time above ground. Leonardo will go if its his turn, but he’s pretty bad at it. I mean the last time he went he forgot the tomato puree and the coffee, so I had to go out and get them the next day. It’s just easier if I do it. Not that I like shopping or anything, but with you here, it’s kinda fun!”
“Don’t forget the coffee!” I reminded, spotting a whole isle of the stuff.
“Heh, how could I forget!” Michaelangelo said, reaching over to grab a hefty jar. “Don drinks enough of the stuff to sink the Titanic in!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Surely that’s not good for him.”
“It isn’t, but he keeps saying he needs the caffeine.”
“You mean he’s addicted?”
“Naw. He does drink other stuff too. But anyway, I think we’ve got everything. Lets pay and get outta here!” declared, brutally forcing the obstinate half full trolley to turn and head for the checkouts.
The cashier gave the unusually clothed Mike and I some funny glances, but thankfully didn’t say anything.
After the food had been paid for, Michaelangelo handed me two of the five bags to carry while he took the other three.
“What do you do when you come by yourself?” I asked.
“I carry a lotta bags!” Mikey exclaimed, “And it kills your shoulders after a while...”
Mikey and I talked idly on the five minute walk to the dark alley way which way the preferred entrance to the sewers. Neither of us noticed that again we were being watched and followed.
Walking into the alley, I caught sight of something moving about in the gloom, almost like a shadow. By this time it was too late to react.
Out of the darkness appeared about twenty or so people dressed in skin-tight black clothes with a red piece of material stretched across their heads.
“The Foot!” gasped Michaelangelo. I knew for a fact that neither Mikey or I were carrying weapons. We hadn’t thought we’d need them to shop. The odds of ten to one were not good at the best of times, but with them armed and us not then there was only one realistic thing we could do.
We both dropped the bags we were carrying and turned to sprint out of the alley, but it was no use. More members of this ‘Foot’ had materialized behind us.
We were surrounded.