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Episode
059
“And please prepare them for the butt-whippin’
Marilyn’s lungs were fire. She tried to breath in, but all she
got for the effort was pain. Pain that surged and radiated with every
instant. Pain that filled her entire being. Pain that bit deep into her,
tearing at her resolve. All over her body, her muscles burned with fury.
Fury and fear.
Something beneath her feet gave. She looked down, seeing it all in
slow motion. She saw her foot slip, as if the very traction of her foot
gave out. She saw it go skidding out behind her, swinging back to join her
right foot. She could feel the sudden pull of gravity yanking on her
chest. She could feel it pulling harder and harder as she got closer and
closer.
Marilyn landed hard. She
hit the dry pavement with a loud impact, slamming down onto the cement
surface. For a moment, everything went white. For a moment, all she knew
was the sudden end of the falling. For a moment, everything was pain.
When Marilyn lifted up her head, she could hear the sounds behind
her. She could hear the shouts. She could hear the sound of the footfalls
pounding behind her. She could hear them. She could hear them coming. She
could hear them coming, for her.
She reached up to her mouth, feeling the thick, warm soup. Blood.
The dark red film stained her lips and teeth. She looked up as the world
seemed to fly down from her, all distance, no matter how great or trivial,
growing by the breath. She tried to lift up, but her muscles refused to
act, refused to move. She tried to take a breath, but the burning air
singed her lungs as it flowed into her, giving her no strength. Somehow,
though, she lifted up.
Rising up from the concrete world, blood pouring from her mouth and
body, she began to run. Pain ran up her left leg as she stepped on it, but
she forced her stride onward. She could feel the blood trickling down over
her body.
But she ran.
Her footfalls filled her ears as the air around her turned into
fire. She didn’t know where the others were, but she knew they were
nearby. She knew how they were, knowing of the exhaustion that was within
them. But the very thought of them gave her some unknown power and
strength to push, to run, to run as fast as she could.
The first of the four grabbed Brian’s arm. With a fast yank, he
nearly toppled the big oaf that had been the only one to remain at the
loading dock. But
as Brian stumbled down, he spun on his standing foot. Swinging his left
leg out quickly, he slammed it into the back of the thug’s knees,
knocking him to the ground. The guy behind Brian jumped up onto his back,
but Brian reached over his shoulders, grabbing the man’s head. With a
fast throw, Brian propelled him over the ground, slamming him into the
other two who were still standing.
Brian took a quick moment to glance around, at the now-empty dock
that had once held the small army of men, lead by the strange
‘Phillip’. But now, the World Alliance had scattered like dust into a
tornado. And they had all bolted.
Malcolm rushed down the small alleyway, pushing his small frame for
all it was worth. He could hear the steps from behind him echoing off the
brick walls of the alley, but he had to ignore them. He had to focus on
the run.
He turned at the corner of the alley, banking into the landing. But
no exit presented itself. The buildings closed in, leaving him in a small
box. He whirled around back at the way he had come, his eyes wide. He
could see the shadows coming down the alleyway. Coming for him.
Ruwani hit the gas. The tires squealed and she turned the wheel
sharply. In the back, Alan and Kim nearly fell over from the violent spin,
both clutching onto each other to stay upright. But the car never even
straightened up.
Alan looked up through the seats at the driver as she sat at the
helm of the motionless car. But Ruwani didn’t look back at him. Her eyes
were locked on the rear view mirror, shaking and filled with terror.
Alan risked rising up to look out the back windshield.
Eight forms stood in the nondescript light of the street lamp.
“Oh no.” Ruwani said, her voice a whisper as she stared into
the mirror.
“I want these three taken alive.” Phillip said, as he led the
seven towards the motionless car. “I want some of them alive, so that we
can interrogate them.”
“We can take all of them alive.” Said one of his aides, to his
left. He looked to Phillip. “If you wish.”
“No.” Phillip said, stopping a few yards short of the back of
the car. Standing in the middle of the wide road that was the only real
exit from downtown, the eight could all clearly see Alan and Ruwani,
petrified, still in the car. “No, I want my men to have the delight of
tasting REAL blood for the first time to . . .”
There was a sound.
Phillip turned his head back down towards the single road that he
and his men blocked. When he finally saw the source of the sound, his eyes
narrowed as he swallowed.
Up above, the thunder rolled one last time. And then, rain.
One by one, the men of the Hand turned their heads towards the
sounds that echoed within their steroid-heightened hearing. One by one,
the men of the Hand turned their heads to see what it was that had stopped
their leader. One by one, the men of the Hand turned to look down the
street, to see through the light rain, to see the six.
Encased in the streetlight of the sleeping city, the six knights
stood. Dressed in black, with only their red shirts and the metal blades
of their swords to distinguish them, they stood ready at the mouth of the
street, the rain seeming weaker around them, as if the eternal rain itself
was afraid to strike at the stalwart six.
Lightning cracked in the sky, turning the world momentarily white.
Color and darkness transposed for a brief instant and all was clear. The
eight tried to stare down the six. The six remained motionless, waiting on
the other side of the street.
“Kill them.” Phillip said. Simultaneously, the seven around
Phillip turned and rushed towards the six.
“Shall I?” Ledger said, reaching into his oversized black
jacket.
“No.” Everett said, at the head of the six, his eyes never
leaving the charging foes. “They don’t pull guns, we don’t pull
guns.”
“But I’m not packing anything else.” Ledger said, no hint of
fear in his voice.
“Get creative.” Everett said clearly. He turned his head,
quickly surveying the standing knights as the seven came. “Knights!”
He shouted. He turned his attention back to the seven, his hand flying
over his shoulder, to the handle of his ninjato. “ATTACK!”
The seven rushed at Everett first. The nearest thug swung at the
knight with a left hook capped off with brass knuckles. Everett spun
around the hook, changing his drawing sword to an ice pick grip while in
mid-spin. As he completed the spin, Everett jammed his sword back behind
him, slicing into the thug’s back with the tip of the straight blade.
The soldier swung at Roland with a blackjack, but Roland blocked
the man’s hand before it came down with any power. In the same motion,
he reached up and grabbed a hold of the man’s wrist. With a fast swing
up under the man’s arm, he twisted the soldier’s arm behind his back,
ending it off with a fast shove to the man’s back. Ledger
jumped up onto the soldier’s chest, yanking him forward to keep the man
standing after the impact. The man, shaking from the imbalance barely had
time to breath before Ledger drove both his hands’ fingers into his
face, clawing straight out with both hands.
Armand kicked the soldier in the stomach with a fast sidekick, then
jumped up to switch legs at the same time, slamming his shin into the
man’s head. But the man blocked, moving in quickly for the kill. Armand
let him get in close, then he grabbed the handle of his brand, jamming it
forward, right into the man’s stomach.
Edgar parried the knife that was sliced at his face, using the same
hand to backfist the soldier. The blow stumbled the man back, allowing
Edgar to follow up with a cross punch so hard, the man was lifted up off
his feet and went through the air before landing almost four feet from
where he had been attacking.
Sydney held her twin short swords in her hands, the two thugs
standing to face either sword. The dame smiled at them, spinning the
swords intimidatingly in her hands. “Which one of you shall be the first
to taste my blade, gentlemen?”
As she spoke, a sound caught her attention. She turned her eyes
just a bit, to see down a side street. For just a brief second, she saw
the figure of a girl running off down the street, bolting for the fear of
hell. And right behind her, hell followed.
“Everett!” Sydney yelled, still holding the two at bay. “Your
girlfriend’s under attack at four o’clock.”
The dark-skinned knight turned his head as he yanked his ninjato
out of the back of the fallen soldier. He looked through the rain in the
direction Sydney had spoken, but saw nothing. “You sure?” He shouted.
“Go!” Edgar yelled. “There’s a lot of these guys. Go get
her.”
“Come on, Ev.” Ledger said, drawing out his sawed-off shotgun.
“We’ll take care of this mess, one ugly at a time.”
“Keep him on a leash and hang tight.” Everett called to Edgar
and Ledger, pointing at Armand. “Do it by the numbers and take ‘em all
down.”
“Everyone?” Ledger asked, cocking his gun.
“Everyone.” Everett answered, already heading off. |