Post by rvm45 on May 9, 2008 15:59:54 GMT -5
.
.
.
.....
Chapter Seventeen
Bucky was holding our people- including Pretty- in a stronghold in rural Minnesota. That was a far piece from the main concentration of Kindred. The logistics of bringing overwhelming force to bear were daunting.
We didn’t have any big planes. Even if we had, a planeload of Kindred would have been far too tempting a target; and we couldn’t risk losing that many Kindred to one LAW rocket- or whatever. We had to transport over two hundred heavily armed men over the roadways- hopefully without arousing the notice of Bucky, or the Laws.
Lets face it: most Kindred can pass for human; but they’re ungodly ugly humans. I’d guess the average Male Kindred is about Six-five. He’ll weigh in about three seventy-five, with muscles like a champion Power Lifter; and a big belly too. He’ll generally have abundant jet-black body hair; big nose and chin; pronounced supra-orbital ridges; and a modest set of fangs. Most of them wear bib overalls and speak in an exaggerated drawl- playing to the stereotype of the stupid; inbred; man-mountain; Mountain William. It doesn’t work nearly as well when you have a whole crowd of them milling around in one place. Kinda sets folks to pondering…
But there are Kindred like Bucky and me, who have generous amounts of human blood and look more like normal humans. Lemuel and Laura would have fit into that category, except for the missing eyes. They had several brothers and sisters though, who had the standard number of eyes. We also shared some other cousins that fit that general description.
There were also a number of people like Modok. They’d fallen in amongst The Kindred for one reason, or another. They’d grooved on the scene and been adopted into the tribe. So far as The Kindred were concerned, they were just as much Kindred as if they’d been born Kindred.
People who’d lived close to the Kindred for generations would have had to be pretty thick, not to realize that The Kindred were a peculiar people- a people apart. Many of them knew about The Kindred; but country people are big on minding their own business. There’s been a certain amount of intermarriage over the years; and there have been a number of alliances formed.
Suffice it to say, we tried to have someone who looked at least halfway normal to be the driver of most of the vehicles, most of the time. We also took great pains to avoid giving the Laws any excuse to pull one of our vehicles over.
“Modok, if you ask me one more time, if we’re there yet, I’ll poke out one of our eyes and make you look like Lemuel”, I said.
He knew that we hadn’t made it to Minnesota yet. He was asking if we’d gotten to the agreed upon mileage for him to take over driving. I don’t like to let others drive me; so I was loath to let him take over even a few minutes ahead of schedule. I assumed that he shared my distaste for being a passenger; but he had other things on his mind.
“Do you think that I have a chance with Laura?” He asked me.
“Modok, I don’t know what to tell you. She’s blind. That means that she can’t see how ugly you are. She’s Kindred. That means she’s moody- even more than a human female. She’ll have a dowry; so it won’t matter that you’re flat broke. The Kindred Doctors cured your addiction. No one will have to worry about you ever becoming an addict again. I don’t know. I know it’s a radical course of action; but why don’t you ask her?”
Modok seemed to have a special talent for annoying me. Nonetheless, we managed to arrive at the designated assemblage point without incident.
Bucky’s fortress was largely underground. There was chain link fence around the place; and sentries inside the fence and out. I had the Goering coat on, of course. I also had a new gadget- a set of safety goggles. They not only protected my eyes; but they monitored my brainwaves. At the mental push of a button, I could choose to see a virtual image from any of my miniature aircraft. Or I could use the goggles for night vision; or infer-red. Modok had a similar pair.
I sent a score of tiny stealth planes, with silenced Guns loaded with poisoned darts. In one massive first strike, they wiped out all of the above ground sentries simultaneously. Kindred sprinted forward from all four point of the compass to breach the fences with bolt cutters. In less than a minute, they’d laid entry charges at all five of the entrances. Selected teams went in, while others stayed topside to guard against an attack on our rear.
Kindred are generally big and they have scant use for small-bore Guns. Every one of them carried some sort of .308- M-1As; H&K; Saigas mostly- along with some very sophisticated Kindred designed belt-feds. A lot of them carried a twelve gauge as well.
I had an H&K .308. It was the first one that I’d ever owned; and I was real pleased with it. I had a 1911A1 on my strong-side hip (the right). I had a seven shot; four inch L-Frame S&W .357 (pre-lock, of course) on my left hip; and another in a left-hand appendix cross draw. I had an eight and three eighths inch Smith 29 .44 Magnum in a left side shoulder holster. I had a custom Bowie with a fourteen-inch blade, and a few hideout blades and Guns. I also backed up my H&K with a .30 M1 Carbine slung over my shoulder; and a six-pack of fifteen round magazines- with a couple more in speed pouches. All my Guns, except the H&K were bright nickeled; and all my pistols and knives were stag handled.
Notwithstanding, as I led the way down the tunnels, my main weapons were the miniature Confederate Air Cavalry helicopters, on temporary loan to the Luftwaffe. While the tunnels were wide enough to drive a car down- or even pass for that matter- the tunnels were a bit tight for my planes to maneuver in. We carried several small planes though, just in case a need for them should arise. Although we had a general idea how the tunnels were arranged- both from official blueprints; and through all sorts of sophisticated scans; they didn’t tell the whole story. Bucky had deviated from the official plans; and we couldn’t know everything there was to know about the tunnels from outside.
The small helicopters were invaluable for scouting around corners and though open doorways. They didn’t warn us of the ambush though. One of the sidewalls dropped straight down into a slot prepared for it, revealing a squad waiting in ambush. The Air Cavalry helicopters buzzed and fired away like angry hornets. I had time to shoot a couple of Bucky’s minions; and I felt a half dozen bullets impact the Goering duster. Then the stock on my H&K exploded in my hand from multiple hits. It numbed my right hand momentarily and I dropped the rifle. I drew the .357 from my left hip and got in a quick headshot before all the hostiles were down. I did a quick tactical reload and reholstered the L Frame. While we paused momentarily, I got out my carbine and divested myself of several magazines of .308.
We met a few lone gunmen along the way; but the choppers took care of them. Finally we entered into the large central chamber. The chamber was over a hundred feet below the ground. The tunnel floors had consistently led downward- with the occasional descending stairwell for good measure. All the tunnels seemed to converge on this one big central chamber; and then they branched out again- going ever downward.
The chamber had a round floor of perhaps sixty or seventy yards across, with an elevated platform about twenty feet high and twenty feet in diameter. There were maybe twenty-five or thirty rows of seats surrounding the floor, each row a couple feet higher than the last. Most of the seats were occupied. Something about the whole situation told me that they’d be mere spectators to whatever happened. It was more than a hunch- an absolute certainty- a knowing.
My brother has no eyes. He stood on the platform with Pretty and three of The Kindred in stocks. He turned his eyeless head towards me and smiled.
“I’ve been expecting you brother. You are so predictable”, He said.
He was holding a silver colored rod in one hand- about thirty inches long, with a big metal ball on one end and a smaller ball on the other. I looked a lot like a twirling baton- only heavier duty. He walked over to one of The Kindred and touched him with the larger sphere. Some sort of purplish lightning came out of the wand; and a male Kindred screamed in agony. Kindred are less sensitive to pain than humans and very stubborn to boot. The fact that he had made a Kindred cry out- particularly a male- was shocking. The man screamed for a few heartbeats. Then he either died; or passed out.
I was straining to get to the stage where Bucky held court; but dozens of his followers blocked our way. None of them were armed. They didn’t try to attack us. All they tried to do was obstruct our forward progress. Bucky was moving towards Pretty with his wand. I ordered the helicopters to attack Bucky; but once they got close to him, they seemed to be crushed by an invisible hand. I called my remaining ‘copters back and set them to mowing down the unarmed herds. I was shooting as many of them, as fast as I could, with my Carbine- headshots only. I took no pity on them. They were part of what was going down- armed or not.
“You see my brother? He’s good at killing the unarmed and the innocent. He killed our parents”, Bucky said in a big rabble-rousing voice.
I screamed in rage to hear him accuse me that way. I didn’t want to shoot him. I wanted to seize him; tear at him with my teeth; throttle him until he expired; rip his head clean off his body; and eat his liver. The world danced in a red haze to my enraged eyesight. I’d finally cleared a pathway to the stage and I bounded up the stairs two-at-a-time. I saw Modok and Laura running up the stairs on the other side.
I’d tried to tell Modok that it wasn’t his fight and that he could be killed. He’d insisted on coming along. Now seeing him and Laura, I was almost as concerned about their welfare as I was Pretty’s. That’s the hell of fighting wars side by side with your kin. Of course Laura fiercely resented any suggestion that she couldn’t do anything someone with eyes could do.
Just as I cleared the last stair step Bucky reached Pretty; but as he touched her with the wand, instead of purple fire enveloping Pretty, a bright orange flame enveloped Bucky. He didn’t scream in pain. He was far more powerful than a mere Kindred; but you could see the flames had hurt him. He staggered backward dazedly.
“You wonder why I’m called the ‘Hellspawn’. It’s because I can command the orange flame. You think that you’re something to marvel at, eyeless one? I was born into slavery. I’m over three hundred years old. You mean no more to me, than an insect” She shouted at him.
I shot at Bucky’s head a half dozen times with the Carbine. One round actually connected with his head but it was only a superficial wound. I got a couple rounds into his shoulder and one into his left forearm. Somehow he was largely deflecting each round. I put a fresh magazine into the Carbine; but Bucky had regained his composure. Fifteen rounds whistled off into space going every which way, hazarding friend as much as foe. I dropped the Carbine and drew my Bowie with my left hand. That’s the way I’d been taught. Ambidextrousness is the goal; but the default condition is: right hand- Gun hand; left hand- blade hand. Bucky was no more than ten yards away; and I didn’t think that I’d be as easy to deflect as a 110 grain Carbine bullet.
Then everything went black. It wasn’t an ordinary darkness. This darkness almost seemed to have substance. It blocked my infrared as well as my night vision. It even seemed to dampen my echolocation and my sense of feel to a large degree. I tried to push through the darkness towards Bucky.
“Who is The One True Light?” Bucky catchetized his minions.
“The Eyeless One!” They shouted back.
“Who is The One True Light? Who is The One True Light? Who is The One True light?” Bucky shouted at them.
“You are! You are! You are!” They shouted back maniacally.
I drew both my .357s. I couldn’t shoot at Bucky- blinded by the darkness as I was- there would be too much chance of hitting Pretty; or Modok; or one of The Kindred. Nonetheless, a four inch .357 Magnum is both loud and bright. I haven’t seen any figures, which is louder- a four inch .357 or an eight inch .44? My vote goes to the short .357. I fired fourteen rounds into the ceiling as fast as I could pull the triggers.
The muzzle blast tore a hole in Bucky’s darkness, just as I’d thought it might. I could see a few feet around me. Bucky was rolling on the floor and holding his misshapen head. The bright orange flame surrounded Pretty once more. This time it burst first her shackles; then the shackles of the three Kindred.
Laura was also down on the floor holding her head- though I later learned that it was from Bucky’s darkness; and not from my .357s. I tried hard to get to Bucky; but the closer I got, the thicker the darkness became. It actually checked my forward progress like trying to wade through invisible molasses.
“We have to get out of here before Bucky recovers” Pretty screamed at me.
I could barely hear her through Bucky’s sound deadening aura. I could hear Bucky’s deadheaded followers loud and clear though. They were yelling some kind of chant about the One True Light. On a hunch, I shouted my own slogan.
“I am the Light Breaker! All servant’s of The Eyeless One should fear me!”
Bucky had an amplification system keyed to his voice- and our voices were similar enough…
Laura had fallen much closer to Bucky than anyone else. She wasn’t capable of walking and no one seemed able to reach her. Bucky was between us; so if I could have gotten to Laura; I’d already have gutted my brother like an eyeless pig. My brother has no eyes.
Then I saw Modok attack Bucky with every aircraft that he had. None of them got very close; but I noticed the darkness weaken a bit more. Modok had a PPSH 41 with an 80 round drum magazine. It was his pride and joy. He emptied the Magazine in Bucky’s general direction while walking slowly forward. I could see his facial veins swell, from fifteen yards away. I decided to help him. I drew my .44 Magnum and sighted carefully on Bucky’s chest. I fired six evenly spaced shots, about a half second apart. I don’t know if it worked, or not; but something did. I saw Modok pick Laura up. Moving away from Bucky seemed far easier than moving towards him.
I ordered half my remaining helicopters to escort Modok; and left him to fend for himself. I had problems enough of my own. Pretty’s confinement had left her too weak to walk without aid. Most of Bucky’s dudes seemed to have gone catatonic- but there was a substantial minority that seemed to have gone on a general rampage- attacking friend and foe with equal enthusiasm. They didn’t fight well; but they were enough of a threat to occupy my full attention.
I didn’t notice that Pretty had picked up my forgotten Carbine ‘till we were back to our vehicle.
“I knew how you’d hate to lose a Gun”, she told me.
“What’s with the orange flames? And what was that blanket of darkness that Bucky used? Is there a way to defeat it?” I asked her desperately.
“I’ll explain it to you later. Right now I need to rest”, she said- just prior to passing out.
.
.
.....
Chapter Seventeen
Bucky was holding our people- including Pretty- in a stronghold in rural Minnesota. That was a far piece from the main concentration of Kindred. The logistics of bringing overwhelming force to bear were daunting.
We didn’t have any big planes. Even if we had, a planeload of Kindred would have been far too tempting a target; and we couldn’t risk losing that many Kindred to one LAW rocket- or whatever. We had to transport over two hundred heavily armed men over the roadways- hopefully without arousing the notice of Bucky, or the Laws.
Lets face it: most Kindred can pass for human; but they’re ungodly ugly humans. I’d guess the average Male Kindred is about Six-five. He’ll weigh in about three seventy-five, with muscles like a champion Power Lifter; and a big belly too. He’ll generally have abundant jet-black body hair; big nose and chin; pronounced supra-orbital ridges; and a modest set of fangs. Most of them wear bib overalls and speak in an exaggerated drawl- playing to the stereotype of the stupid; inbred; man-mountain; Mountain William. It doesn’t work nearly as well when you have a whole crowd of them milling around in one place. Kinda sets folks to pondering…
But there are Kindred like Bucky and me, who have generous amounts of human blood and look more like normal humans. Lemuel and Laura would have fit into that category, except for the missing eyes. They had several brothers and sisters though, who had the standard number of eyes. We also shared some other cousins that fit that general description.
There were also a number of people like Modok. They’d fallen in amongst The Kindred for one reason, or another. They’d grooved on the scene and been adopted into the tribe. So far as The Kindred were concerned, they were just as much Kindred as if they’d been born Kindred.
People who’d lived close to the Kindred for generations would have had to be pretty thick, not to realize that The Kindred were a peculiar people- a people apart. Many of them knew about The Kindred; but country people are big on minding their own business. There’s been a certain amount of intermarriage over the years; and there have been a number of alliances formed.
Suffice it to say, we tried to have someone who looked at least halfway normal to be the driver of most of the vehicles, most of the time. We also took great pains to avoid giving the Laws any excuse to pull one of our vehicles over.
“Modok, if you ask me one more time, if we’re there yet, I’ll poke out one of our eyes and make you look like Lemuel”, I said.
He knew that we hadn’t made it to Minnesota yet. He was asking if we’d gotten to the agreed upon mileage for him to take over driving. I don’t like to let others drive me; so I was loath to let him take over even a few minutes ahead of schedule. I assumed that he shared my distaste for being a passenger; but he had other things on his mind.
“Do you think that I have a chance with Laura?” He asked me.
“Modok, I don’t know what to tell you. She’s blind. That means that she can’t see how ugly you are. She’s Kindred. That means she’s moody- even more than a human female. She’ll have a dowry; so it won’t matter that you’re flat broke. The Kindred Doctors cured your addiction. No one will have to worry about you ever becoming an addict again. I don’t know. I know it’s a radical course of action; but why don’t you ask her?”
Modok seemed to have a special talent for annoying me. Nonetheless, we managed to arrive at the designated assemblage point without incident.
Bucky’s fortress was largely underground. There was chain link fence around the place; and sentries inside the fence and out. I had the Goering coat on, of course. I also had a new gadget- a set of safety goggles. They not only protected my eyes; but they monitored my brainwaves. At the mental push of a button, I could choose to see a virtual image from any of my miniature aircraft. Or I could use the goggles for night vision; or infer-red. Modok had a similar pair.
I sent a score of tiny stealth planes, with silenced Guns loaded with poisoned darts. In one massive first strike, they wiped out all of the above ground sentries simultaneously. Kindred sprinted forward from all four point of the compass to breach the fences with bolt cutters. In less than a minute, they’d laid entry charges at all five of the entrances. Selected teams went in, while others stayed topside to guard against an attack on our rear.
Kindred are generally big and they have scant use for small-bore Guns. Every one of them carried some sort of .308- M-1As; H&K; Saigas mostly- along with some very sophisticated Kindred designed belt-feds. A lot of them carried a twelve gauge as well.
I had an H&K .308. It was the first one that I’d ever owned; and I was real pleased with it. I had a 1911A1 on my strong-side hip (the right). I had a seven shot; four inch L-Frame S&W .357 (pre-lock, of course) on my left hip; and another in a left-hand appendix cross draw. I had an eight and three eighths inch Smith 29 .44 Magnum in a left side shoulder holster. I had a custom Bowie with a fourteen-inch blade, and a few hideout blades and Guns. I also backed up my H&K with a .30 M1 Carbine slung over my shoulder; and a six-pack of fifteen round magazines- with a couple more in speed pouches. All my Guns, except the H&K were bright nickeled; and all my pistols and knives were stag handled.
Notwithstanding, as I led the way down the tunnels, my main weapons were the miniature Confederate Air Cavalry helicopters, on temporary loan to the Luftwaffe. While the tunnels were wide enough to drive a car down- or even pass for that matter- the tunnels were a bit tight for my planes to maneuver in. We carried several small planes though, just in case a need for them should arise. Although we had a general idea how the tunnels were arranged- both from official blueprints; and through all sorts of sophisticated scans; they didn’t tell the whole story. Bucky had deviated from the official plans; and we couldn’t know everything there was to know about the tunnels from outside.
The small helicopters were invaluable for scouting around corners and though open doorways. They didn’t warn us of the ambush though. One of the sidewalls dropped straight down into a slot prepared for it, revealing a squad waiting in ambush. The Air Cavalry helicopters buzzed and fired away like angry hornets. I had time to shoot a couple of Bucky’s minions; and I felt a half dozen bullets impact the Goering duster. Then the stock on my H&K exploded in my hand from multiple hits. It numbed my right hand momentarily and I dropped the rifle. I drew the .357 from my left hip and got in a quick headshot before all the hostiles were down. I did a quick tactical reload and reholstered the L Frame. While we paused momentarily, I got out my carbine and divested myself of several magazines of .308.
We met a few lone gunmen along the way; but the choppers took care of them. Finally we entered into the large central chamber. The chamber was over a hundred feet below the ground. The tunnel floors had consistently led downward- with the occasional descending stairwell for good measure. All the tunnels seemed to converge on this one big central chamber; and then they branched out again- going ever downward.
The chamber had a round floor of perhaps sixty or seventy yards across, with an elevated platform about twenty feet high and twenty feet in diameter. There were maybe twenty-five or thirty rows of seats surrounding the floor, each row a couple feet higher than the last. Most of the seats were occupied. Something about the whole situation told me that they’d be mere spectators to whatever happened. It was more than a hunch- an absolute certainty- a knowing.
My brother has no eyes. He stood on the platform with Pretty and three of The Kindred in stocks. He turned his eyeless head towards me and smiled.
“I’ve been expecting you brother. You are so predictable”, He said.
He was holding a silver colored rod in one hand- about thirty inches long, with a big metal ball on one end and a smaller ball on the other. I looked a lot like a twirling baton- only heavier duty. He walked over to one of The Kindred and touched him with the larger sphere. Some sort of purplish lightning came out of the wand; and a male Kindred screamed in agony. Kindred are less sensitive to pain than humans and very stubborn to boot. The fact that he had made a Kindred cry out- particularly a male- was shocking. The man screamed for a few heartbeats. Then he either died; or passed out.
I was straining to get to the stage where Bucky held court; but dozens of his followers blocked our way. None of them were armed. They didn’t try to attack us. All they tried to do was obstruct our forward progress. Bucky was moving towards Pretty with his wand. I ordered the helicopters to attack Bucky; but once they got close to him, they seemed to be crushed by an invisible hand. I called my remaining ‘copters back and set them to mowing down the unarmed herds. I was shooting as many of them, as fast as I could, with my Carbine- headshots only. I took no pity on them. They were part of what was going down- armed or not.
“You see my brother? He’s good at killing the unarmed and the innocent. He killed our parents”, Bucky said in a big rabble-rousing voice.
I screamed in rage to hear him accuse me that way. I didn’t want to shoot him. I wanted to seize him; tear at him with my teeth; throttle him until he expired; rip his head clean off his body; and eat his liver. The world danced in a red haze to my enraged eyesight. I’d finally cleared a pathway to the stage and I bounded up the stairs two-at-a-time. I saw Modok and Laura running up the stairs on the other side.
I’d tried to tell Modok that it wasn’t his fight and that he could be killed. He’d insisted on coming along. Now seeing him and Laura, I was almost as concerned about their welfare as I was Pretty’s. That’s the hell of fighting wars side by side with your kin. Of course Laura fiercely resented any suggestion that she couldn’t do anything someone with eyes could do.
Just as I cleared the last stair step Bucky reached Pretty; but as he touched her with the wand, instead of purple fire enveloping Pretty, a bright orange flame enveloped Bucky. He didn’t scream in pain. He was far more powerful than a mere Kindred; but you could see the flames had hurt him. He staggered backward dazedly.
“You wonder why I’m called the ‘Hellspawn’. It’s because I can command the orange flame. You think that you’re something to marvel at, eyeless one? I was born into slavery. I’m over three hundred years old. You mean no more to me, than an insect” She shouted at him.
I shot at Bucky’s head a half dozen times with the Carbine. One round actually connected with his head but it was only a superficial wound. I got a couple rounds into his shoulder and one into his left forearm. Somehow he was largely deflecting each round. I put a fresh magazine into the Carbine; but Bucky had regained his composure. Fifteen rounds whistled off into space going every which way, hazarding friend as much as foe. I dropped the Carbine and drew my Bowie with my left hand. That’s the way I’d been taught. Ambidextrousness is the goal; but the default condition is: right hand- Gun hand; left hand- blade hand. Bucky was no more than ten yards away; and I didn’t think that I’d be as easy to deflect as a 110 grain Carbine bullet.
Then everything went black. It wasn’t an ordinary darkness. This darkness almost seemed to have substance. It blocked my infrared as well as my night vision. It even seemed to dampen my echolocation and my sense of feel to a large degree. I tried to push through the darkness towards Bucky.
“Who is The One True Light?” Bucky catchetized his minions.
“The Eyeless One!” They shouted back.
“Who is The One True Light? Who is The One True Light? Who is The One True light?” Bucky shouted at them.
“You are! You are! You are!” They shouted back maniacally.
I drew both my .357s. I couldn’t shoot at Bucky- blinded by the darkness as I was- there would be too much chance of hitting Pretty; or Modok; or one of The Kindred. Nonetheless, a four inch .357 Magnum is both loud and bright. I haven’t seen any figures, which is louder- a four inch .357 or an eight inch .44? My vote goes to the short .357. I fired fourteen rounds into the ceiling as fast as I could pull the triggers.
The muzzle blast tore a hole in Bucky’s darkness, just as I’d thought it might. I could see a few feet around me. Bucky was rolling on the floor and holding his misshapen head. The bright orange flame surrounded Pretty once more. This time it burst first her shackles; then the shackles of the three Kindred.
Laura was also down on the floor holding her head- though I later learned that it was from Bucky’s darkness; and not from my .357s. I tried hard to get to Bucky; but the closer I got, the thicker the darkness became. It actually checked my forward progress like trying to wade through invisible molasses.
“We have to get out of here before Bucky recovers” Pretty screamed at me.
I could barely hear her through Bucky’s sound deadening aura. I could hear Bucky’s deadheaded followers loud and clear though. They were yelling some kind of chant about the One True Light. On a hunch, I shouted my own slogan.
“I am the Light Breaker! All servant’s of The Eyeless One should fear me!”
Bucky had an amplification system keyed to his voice- and our voices were similar enough…
Laura had fallen much closer to Bucky than anyone else. She wasn’t capable of walking and no one seemed able to reach her. Bucky was between us; so if I could have gotten to Laura; I’d already have gutted my brother like an eyeless pig. My brother has no eyes.
Then I saw Modok attack Bucky with every aircraft that he had. None of them got very close; but I noticed the darkness weaken a bit more. Modok had a PPSH 41 with an 80 round drum magazine. It was his pride and joy. He emptied the Magazine in Bucky’s general direction while walking slowly forward. I could see his facial veins swell, from fifteen yards away. I decided to help him. I drew my .44 Magnum and sighted carefully on Bucky’s chest. I fired six evenly spaced shots, about a half second apart. I don’t know if it worked, or not; but something did. I saw Modok pick Laura up. Moving away from Bucky seemed far easier than moving towards him.
I ordered half my remaining helicopters to escort Modok; and left him to fend for himself. I had problems enough of my own. Pretty’s confinement had left her too weak to walk without aid. Most of Bucky’s dudes seemed to have gone catatonic- but there was a substantial minority that seemed to have gone on a general rampage- attacking friend and foe with equal enthusiasm. They didn’t fight well; but they were enough of a threat to occupy my full attention.
I didn’t notice that Pretty had picked up my forgotten Carbine ‘till we were back to our vehicle.
“I knew how you’d hate to lose a Gun”, she told me.
“What’s with the orange flames? And what was that blanket of darkness that Bucky used? Is there a way to defeat it?” I asked her desperately.
“I’ll explain it to you later. Right now I need to rest”, she said- just prior to passing out.