Issue #2 (May 2018)
Written by John Cheese Featuring: Flintlock
Silver Sidewinder
Centurius
Hooded Haunt
Mala Mujer
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Somewhere in Mexico – 27.5 Hours Power Remaining
Rachel stared at the gun pointed at her before looking at the woman who wielded it. Silver Sidewinder looked absolutely terrified and that was something she could use. "You tell me, you were briefed on what you were acquiring." Rachel stated as she turned to continue her walk to the road. "I...I didn't understand half of it okay!" Silver Sidewinder snapped as she began to follow Flintlock. Turning around once again Rachel shot her a glare suggesting to Sidewinder that maybe she should stop following her. "Okay then this is a Level 7 Reality Bomb," Rachel announced as she thrust the case out in front of her, the sudden movement causing Silver Sidewinder to stumble backwards a few steps. "What you saw in the plane, that was a taste of what it will do in just over twenty-seven hours when the containment system runs out of power!" "I'm sorry, I didn't know." Silver Sidewinder squeaked as Rachel once again headed towards the road. "I don't really know anything." She sighed as she stumbled after her. "Surely you know enough to realise that following me is a bad idea!" Rachel snapped, not even bothering to turn or even slow down this time. "And that you're wasting my time." "I just thought..." Sidewinder stated quietly as she held out Rachel's antique pistol, butt outwards to her one-time adversary, "...that this would make us even." "How many people did you kill in your ambush today?" Rachel asked as she took the gun and swiftly reloaded it. "If you don't know don't bother answering," She stated as she saw Silver Sidewinder attempt a quick calculation in her head. "You killed good men and women today for a payday, we'll never be even or good or whatever spin you want to put on it!" She hissed before continuing her march to the road. "I can still follow you right?" Sidewinder asked, before scrambling after the woman she'd kidnapped only hours earlier. Century Armaments, Seattle Washington Centurius couldn't abide the presence of his so-called partner on the board, the Hooded Haunt. The demon was so archaic, so rooted in the arcane that he was laughable, yet Centurius knew better to laugh, magic was indeed real and the Hooded Haunt used it in some of the cruellest ways. "Why have you summoned me here?" The Hooded Haunt asked, his voice grating like the sound of nails running down a chalkboard. "One of my soon to be terminated operatives managed to lose a crucial part of the 'Reality Engine' I'm currently constructing." Centurius announced as he dared to look the skull faced demon in what should have been his eyes. "I need to track it down and retrieve it without losing face with the others.” "Too proud to ask for help." The Hooded Haunt hissed as he ran a cold hand over a hastily summoned doll of Centurius, the movements causing a cold sensation to run through the human it was a facsimile of. "Too weak to hunt your own prey." It added as it brought a long bony finger across the dolls throat, very real blood dripping out of a fresh wound on Centurius's throat despite the armour plating he wore there. "This would reflect poorly on all of us." Centurius coughed as he ignored the wound or the fact that the stinging coagulant that he'd engineered his body to create had suddenly kicked in. "Even you." The Hooded Haunt stopped his torment and spirited the doll away. "So, you want my help, one of my operatives to retrieve your science?" The Haunt hissed, the last word in particular sounding like a bitter curse coming out of his mouth. "If it's not too much of a problem." Centurius muttered. "All I ask is that they be a desert specialist and that unlike the last person I hired, that they listen." The Hanging Yankee, Somewhere in Mexico – 26.8 Hours Power Remaining Rachel eyed the Confederate flag flying proud and free with some suspicion before biting the proverbial bullet and walked inside. As long as there was water and a phone she'd take what she was offered. As to be expected the place was rough, and so were the dozen or so clients lounging around and knocking back beers. "What a dive!" Silver Sidewinder stated behind her, the comment causing the neatest patron dressed in a wife beater and jeans to get up from the table and walk towards them. "Better watch your mouth!" The patron hissed as he looked down on the pair. "The Minutemen don't look kindly on coloured women who show lip." (Hands up who remembers the Minutemen from Daniel Ingram’s series Project Hades) "She's...she's a little insensitive about these things." Flintlock replied as she took a note of the name the man had given them for the group. "Listen is it possible to use your phone?" "Round the back, Charlene will be listening in," He added before gesturing to a nubile young woman dressed in short shorts and a bikini with the Confederate flag printed on it, "just in case you try and call those bloody Yankee oppressors!" "Nope no Yankees just my boss." Rachel replied as Charlene walked up and lead her off to a door in the back of the bar. "Uhm what am I meant to do?" Silver Sidewinder asked as she saw two more men get up from their chairs. "I don't know and I don't care!" Rachel answered as she headed out back. Gulping slightly Sidewinder sidled up to the bar, the coin in her hand clenched hard enough to leave a mark in her skin. "So, is it too late to apologise for the crack about the bar?" She asked before one man, a particularly short weasel like individual slid alongside her. "What can I do for you?" "You can tell us what your friends got in that case." One of the men ordered as the 'weasel' grabbed her gun. "If you don't we have some work for you out in the desert at the plantation. Put you back in your rightful place you know." "That won't be necessary." Sidewinder gulped as she fished her silver dollar out of her pocket and placed it on the counter before spinning it. "We're not even friends." Rachel eyed the phone box that had been dumped next to the rusted hulk of an armoured personnel carrier. Between the bar and the phone, she'd been forced at gunpoint by Charlene to surrender her weapon, strip off in front of half a dozen of the hooting neo-confederates to prove she wasn’t hiding a number of things ranging from listening devices to bombs before dressing in a one-piece swimsuit emblazoned with the Confederate flag for the remainder of her stay. "Phone's there, don't be too long." Charlene grunted as she reclined against the APC. From the corner of her eye Rachel saw two of the men stoking a fire, before tossing her clothes onto the fire. Somehow, she suspected that the Minutemen had other ideas regarding the length of her stay. Lifting the receiver and not hearing a dial tone Rachel knew that her theory was likely correct. "The phone doesn't work." She sighed as a man dressed in grey walked over to where Charlene was standing, a massive Desert Eagle pistol levelled at her. "Back inside miss." The gunman ordered as Rachel stepped out of the phone box. "You'll be giving us that bomb if you please." Bad Woman Canyon, New Mexico The gaping red hole opened up into the desert, red sparks spitting onto the sand as Centurius followed the Hooded Haunt through. His armour always reacted poorly when exposed to magic, and he was certain that the Haunt's portals were purposefully made to be hurtful, they were of course being created by a demon. "So where is this operative then?" Centurius asked as he scanned the dusty flats before him. "There." The Hooded Haunt stated as he pointed to a scrubby thorny looking plant. "What do you make of her?" He asked as Centurius shot him a tired and deadly look. "I have no time for botany demon!" Centurius hissed. "Pah." The Haunt spat as he raised his arms. As he did the plant faded and became a woman, her skin red and raw with black almost rot like patterns covering her arms, and presumably the skin covered by the black leather mini-dress she wore. Tossing her rank strands of green hair, she looked at them with all too human eyes before approaching them, her stride a mockery of a seductive stride. "Mala Mujer meet Centurius." The Haunt hissed as the woman shot the scientist a vicious look. "He has work for you. He needs the case carried by this woman brought to him." He added as he summoned up a life size representation of Flintlock. "I'm willing to pay as much as you..." "Be silent man of science!" Mala Mujer snapped. "I have no need of coin anymore, what I want is a taste of the power that has touched this nymph." She started as she stroked the image of Flintlock, a burning rash forming on the illusions skin. "At last I'll draw out my tormenter, at last I will have my revenge!" The Hanged Yankee, Mexico – 26.4 Hours Power Remaining Rachel had some choice words for Silver Sidewinder about revealing what she was carrying as she was frog marched into the bar. Those words faded as she saw what had happened to the villainess in the short time she'd been outside. Silver Sidewinder had been hung from the rafters by her arms, each one supporting fresh cuts down to the elbows. Not only that but she'd been stripped and had a knife taken to her chest and flanks. But the worst punishment had been reserved for her face, as the branded racial slur burnt into her forehead suggested. Rachel must have gasped because one of the Minutemen grunted, "We had to put the mouthy bitch in her place, we didn't do nothing she didn't deserve." "Now boys settle down, we got business to attend to." A calming southern voice announced as an older gentleman dressed in a civil war uniform walked to the forefront of the crowd. While he looked human, Rachel could swear that beams of light were shining through three holes in his chest. "My names the Grey Ghost and word is you have a weapon that can liberate our lands from the illegal Union occupation." "It doesn't work like that, you don't understand how the device works, no one here does." Rachel replied as Silver Sidewinder made a small gurgling sound. "It's you who don't understand miss, we don't need you just the device." The Grey Ghost replied as he gestured to a grey clad man holding a chainsaw. "Now can you make this thing work like I want it, or do we cut your pretty little hand off of your arm?" "I'll do it but I have conditions." Sarah gulped as she tried to think of anything that would buy her time or help Silver Sidewinder, preferably both." "Name em." The Grey Ghost replied. "Firstly, you cut her down." Rachel demanded. "Secondly clothes for both of us, proper clothes not this striperific stuff and thirdly I need a generator and some tools." "Agreed." The Grey Ghost hissed as he summoned a greeny grey sabre that glinted oddly in the light and cut the rope round Silver Sidewinder's wrists sending the bound woman tumbling onto the floor. Running over to her Rachel felt a hand restrain her before forcing her into a kneeling position. "Boys find em some clothes but don't rush." One of the men dressed in grey ordered as half the Minutemen fanned out, while the other half stayed watch over the prisoners chuckling to themselves and rubbing their hands in glee. "Boys be respectful while I'm gone." The Grey Ghost ordered as he headed for the door. "To the white girl at least, I don't care what you do to the coloured beast." He added as he left the bar. "You heard him, let's be respectful." The man holding Rachel down snickered as his captive felt a knife cut through the straps of her swimsuit causing it to collapse onto the floor. "It's time boys!" Another snorted as he towered over Rachel, his pants down. "Who wants to pet the kitty first?" He asked only for a gunshot to ring out, causing him to fall over dead. "That's no way to treat a lady!" The shooter, a rugged looking man dressed in black ballistic armour yelled, his accent caught somewhere between sounding Scandinavian and Australian. "This is a private party freak!" One of the Minutemen snapped only to fall to the floor bleeding from a gunshot wound. Immediately after that the remaining seven neo-confederates jumped into action against the newcomer. Squirming out of her captive’s grasp, Flintlock smashed him round the face with the case, his body twisting and deforming as he fell Not bothering to check on the man she'd just escaped from, Rachel slid over to Silver Sidewinder and pulled her up against the bar, just as reinforcements from below raced up to tackle the intruder, his blonde ponytail and beard now caked in blood. "This is all my fault." Sidewinder whispered as she winced in pain at the touch of the wooden bar against her back. Levering her forward slightly Rachel saw three long lash marks with a ragged outline, almost as if the woman had been struck with a whip of barbed wire. "No, it’s mine." Rachel hissed with gritted teeth as the intruder struck down the last of the Confederate defenders. "I should have turned around as soon as I saw what kind of place this was." "I'm still sorry." Sidewinder whispered as she looked up at the only figure left standing in the bar. "Who is he?" She asked meekly. "I don't know." Rachel answered as one of the Minutemen stirred and went for the chainsaw, the power tool revving up to full speed as he swung it at the man who'd pacified an entire bar room and half a militia force. Reaching out with two hands the intruder grabbed the revolving chain blade and effortlessly pushed it into his attacker’s face. "Maybe we should ask what is he?" "Just a man looking for the adventures only this middle realm can provide." The man announced as he placed the chainsaw down on a table. "You appear to be naked as is your friend." He stated with a well-meaning smile. "Uh yes." Rachel spluttered as she looked over at the pile of dropped clothes that the Minutemen reinforcements had been carrying. "If you would excuse us for just one moment." She asked as the man turned away giving the women the privacy they needed. "He's a gentleman apparently." Rachel told Sidewinder as she held out a pair of blue jeans. "But what else I'm not sure." The Demin skirt and jacket fit quite well, Rachel thought as she slipped on the hiking boots she'd been fortunate enough to keep from her previous outfit. The deliberately low-cut tank top was another story, being low cut one and short. Still it was better than being naked. "So, what now?" Sidewinder asked as she squeezed in the silver snakeskin trousers she'd been bought, the black blouse being far more comfortable then Flintlock's assemble. "Do you want a hat?" Rachel asked as Sidewinder pulled on the matching jacket to the trousers she wore before nodding. Tossing her a silver sexton, Rachel headed out into the bar and stepped over a body to the table loaded with weapons. "I found the items you asked about." The intruder stated as he handed Flintlock her antique pistol and a silver dollar. "Thanks, now who exactly are you?" Rachel asked as Sidewinder crept in and took a gun from the pile of weapons. "Well my only memory from before the day I arrived was my father calling me a Heathen, so I guess that's my name." The man announced as he picked up a massive machine gun. "What do you mean arrived?" Rachel asked as she handed Sidewinder her silver dollar back. "Do you mean born?" "Well I was naked when it happened like a baby, but no I arrived looking like who I am today." The Heathen stated as he picked up a massive sledgehammer to go with his machine gun. "There were rainbows that day." "Oh my god are you Thor!" Silver Sidewinder gasped loudly. "He's not Thor, but we do need to be going." Rachel announced as she walked out into the desert up to a black Ford Mustang, the others following in her wake. "He looks like Thor." Silver Sidewinder mumbled as Rachel searched under the car before removing the ignition key. "Okay so question, who wants to get out of this place?" Rachel asked as she slipped into the passenger seat and wedged the case between her legs. Her answer was given within seconds as Sidewinder and the Heathen jumped in the car, just as a yell sounded from the other side of the building, accompanied by the roar of multiple engines. "Guess that answers that." She sighed as the Heathen took the key from her and put his foot on the gas pedal, the Mustang roaring to life before shooting forwards through the wooden fence and out onto the open road. |