Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter One
Seven Soldiers
Ever since the accident, her life hadn’t been the same. Becky Fox didn’t like being referred to as the dragon. The rest of Moulty’s mutants-had semi or fully controllable powers, but her life (and options) had changed in so many ways. For one thing, she couldn’t use a phone . . . unless it was for strangling her longtime pest-mate Fred Freshee. Talking was also a thing of the past. No eating. No drinking. At least the mutated metabolism she had kept her from starving. But still . . . she’d rather have had John Diamond’s powers. They were far more controllable. Becky had to be especially careful when sleeping. Fortunately she wasn’t a snorer, but she had to keep her mouth shut at all times. And David Furfy didn’t even know about her predicament.
And how’s he gonna react? She thought, depressed. He can’t marry a flamethrower... but that’s all I’m good for right now. Do you, David, take this flamethrower...
She was washing dishes, stopping every now and then to write a note to the others. That was another disadvantage. Pointing at things and writing endless notes became tiresome. But she didn’t know sign language... yet. Lizzie was going to teach her some later. For now, Becky was washing dishes, and Lizzie and Pardy was drying them. Across the room, Fred — FRED — was beating a flabbergasted Diamond at chess, while Rabikes and Moulty were directly outside the house, throwing a football at each other, back and forth.
Rabikes threw the ball.
Moulty missed. The ball flew over him, into the window.
Right into the side of Becky’s head.
The impact was light. But it startled her just enough.
Her mouth opened, surprised.
A pencil of flame shot out diagonally and caught Pardy’s wrist.
“YEEEAAAAGGGGHHH!!!” she cried out in agony.
“PARDY!!!” Lizzie screamed back.
OH, MY GOD, NO!!! Becky thought, clamped her mouth tight, eyes wide in horror. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!!!
Pardy was screaming, wrist still flaming, writhing on the floor.
Rabikes heard it and was racing in. “CRAP!!!” yelled Fred.
Diamond shoved him out of the way, found a fire extinguisher and doused Pardy’s entire arm. The fire was out.
“Jesus Christ, what happened?” Rabikes shouted. Pardy was sobbing uncontrollably. Most of them had never seen her like this.
“I’M CALLING THE HOSPITAL!” Lizzie replied, furiously. She’d seen the ball, and knew what caused this, but something in her face frightened Becky nonetheless. The anger in Lizzie’s face was indescribable.
Pardy, still fighting the burning pain, cried out at Becky, “WHY — OWWW — WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?? Ahhhhhh . . . ”
Becky could not respond. Horrified and frustrated, she could only turn around, away from Pardy and the others, trying not to cry . . .
I HATE THIS POWER! She screamed silently, I HATE IT!!!
● ● ●
Three hours later, Chris Rabikes tried to reassure her. “Lighten up, Drag -- I mean, Becky. The squirt’s going to be okay. Besides, it wasn’t your fault.” He pointed an accusing finger at Moulty. “If this little blue twit hadn’t fumbled --”
Moulty shrugged, flipping Chris the bird. “Hey, I got a reputation to uphold! It wasn’t my screw-up, either. You tossed it too high.”
Diamond cut in. “All right, stop it. Nobody’s to blame . . . do I hear a car?”
“Yeah,” Fred replied. “Here comes Miz Hardy. She’s alone.”
Lizzie entered the house. “She’s okay. Minor third-degree burns to the wrist and hand. She’s staying overnight in the children’s ward. I don’t think she’s ready to go home right away. She feels safer there, I guess.”
Rabikes frowned at her. “That’s a cheap shot, lady.”
She replied, “Don’t jump on me. That’s only how she feels right now. Tomorrow I’ll pick her up.” Becky, still feeling like the lowest form of human scum, sheepishly gave Lizzie a note: I am so, so, sorry.
Lizzie smiled at her. “It’s all right. Accidents are accidents. I don’t blame you.”
“Ya see?” Fred told Becky. “It’s nothing to get fired up about.” Then he gulped.
It took all of Becky’s strength of will not to incinerate him on the spot. She was about to slug him instead, until Moulty asked no one in particular:
“Um . . . excuse me, but . . . who invited the army?”
Chris, Becky, John, Lizzie and Fred turned swiftly to see seven men, all in their mid-20s, all decked out in military camouflage, all aiming bizarre-looking weapons at each of them. The leader bore the name tag: “HUNT.”
“Everyone pick an opponent?” Moulty suggested.
“Taser those three,” Hunt ordered. Three of the men shot high-voltage bursts at Rabikes, Moulty and Fred. They fell to the floor, unconscious.
“SWITCH TO FATAL!” Hunt bellowed so everyone could hear. “TARGETS LOCKED -- FIRST ONE WHO MOVES SEES THE OTHER TWO DIE!” Hunt and a second man pointed their weapons at Lizzie. A third soldier covered Diamond. The other four switched their target to Becky. They were in painfully close quarters.
Hunt spoke fast “Very good, very good, do not deviate from my orders, because I won’t! My orders are to collect you three right now! Do as I say and your asses will not be kicked! We know who you all are and what you can do, so -- “ He grabbed Lizzie’s arm -- “You’re going to stay human! No molecularizing! Hands behind your back!” He turned to Diamond. “Your hands stay in the air, teepee! Keep them way up!” Hunt maneuvered in front of Becky. “If you give me any problems, hot stuff -- if you even think of opening your mouth, I’ll shut it for good! You got me!”
“She is kinda hot,” commented one of the soldiers.
“Shut up, Fricker!” Hunt shouted. “Keep your mind on the mission! Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t want to hurt anybody! All I want to do is complete the assignment! All you have to do is consider yourselves property of the General and everything will be fine as wine! You will not be blindfolded or restrained, unless you act up! There’s a hovercraft outside! It is large! We’re gonna board it now, and then you will see the General! This is your new home! MOVE OUT!!”
“Property of the General?” Lizzie asked. “What the hell is this all about!?”
“I CAN’T HEAR YEWWWW,” bellowed Hunt sarcastically, ordering them outside.
“That’s some hovercraft,” muttered Diamond grimly.
All three hostages were stunned when they saw it. A low hum seemed to emanate from it. Most of the hovercraft was still hovering some thirty feet from the ground as it was too large to land in the middle of the street. In fact, it was the size of a hotel. Projected from the base of the hovercraft was a large elevator with its door open for its newfound guests. They all boarded, three reluctantly.
Once the doors closed, the elevator drew its passengers up into the craft. The hum outside grew louder and the hovercraft rose higher and lurched forward, moving off several miles.
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Two
Q&A
“Thank you for cooperating,” Hunt bellowed over the engines. “Milk and cookies for everyone.”
Lizzie, John and Becky were taken to a conference room, where thirteen more soldiers awaited them. All were the same general ages, also in their mid-20's. Lot of hunks in this room, Becky thought, then chided herself. Shut up, stupid! These creeps just zapped your friends! Be happy with the man you’ve got!
“Please sit down here,” Hunt requested. “I apologize for yelling at you all, but I’ve got my orders from the VSO. Just remember, we have you very covered.”
Lizzie’s eyes rolled at the mention of the VSO. “Oh, fudge 137.”
Hunt added “The general and Dr. Roberts will be here momentarily.”
Becky sat between John Diamond and Corporal Vicar Fricker, who caught her gaze and wiggled his tongue lustfully.
Hrrrrggh! she thought. Great! Another pervert! She looked in another direction. She saw two men enter from a side corridor. First was the General, who looked like Marlon Brando in uniform. Unfortunately, it was the current Brando... in a big uniform. The second was a younger, black man in medical garb. Doctor Roberts, I presume. They both sat down at the head of the table.
“Okay, then,” began the General. His voice denoting a Brooklyn accent.
“Who are you?” Diamond interrupted forcefully.
“Don’t talk over the General,” Hunt warned. “Let’s be nice.”
“All-rightey,” added the General, staring at some notes. “Fox, Rebecca. “Diamond, John. Hardy, Hortense.”
Ten of the men snickered.
“Call me Lizzie,” ordered the blonde prisoner.
“I’ll call you whaddever da hell I want, babydoll,” he rasped.
“Show the General some respect,” Hunt ordered, annoyed.
“Like you’ve been treating us?” Diamond challenged. “This is damn respectful.”
The General continued: “We don’t have time to go into our VSO agenda in detail, and I wouldn’t tell you even if we did. Cutting it to the chase, we detected the nature of your unique talents and decided to incorporate them into our company. We can use you to good effect. The mute one, for instance, has a helluva lot more raw power than a standard-issue flamethrower. Right, Dr. Roberts?
“Most definitely,” he replied. “Just keep her away from the gaseous elements aboard.”
“Yeah. I’ll be sure not to fart when she’s firing. No point in blowing us all up.”
The soldiers laughed. “You’re pretty powerful too, son. You can dehumanize anybody with your touch for long periods. I intend to use that on our enemies, foreign and domestic.”
“Too bad we’re pacifists,” Lizzie said. “We won’t fight your wars for you.”
“The General’s eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. “I call every shot here. Every last one. Everybody does what I say, and the only one I give any latitude here is the doc, ‘cuz he’s clearly smarter than me.” Smoking his cigar, he went on: “You’re not here to fight for me, HH. Your friends are. I need you for communications. You got primo abilities for sifting enemy information. You’re my radio.”
“All right,” Lizzie reasoned, “so how can you tell if my info is the truth?”
The General’s mouth took thirty seconds to close. “Hmmm,” he realized. “Well, we’ll just have to work on that.”
“Why just the three of us?” Diamond asked. “There are others you didn’t take.”
“We know. Rabikes, Christopher. Basically a human helicopter, only not as fast. Easily shot down. Rodriguez, Moulty . . . WHAT THE HELL KIND OF NAME IS THAT?”
WHAT’S YOUR NAME? Becky held up in writing.
“Ah, shut up,” the General said.
“I’m Fricker, baby,” said Fricker -- and licked her ear. She recoiled, revolted.
“So General Ahshutup, why didn’t you take Moulty Rodriguez?” asked Diamond.
“Are you kidding?” the General said. “All he does is spread love.” He spat. “Some power.”
“But love is the greatest power of all,” Lizzie protested. “Right, Johnny?”
“Ho, why don’t you let me handle this, all right?” Diamond asked.
“It’s my job to handle it. I’m the deputy leader. I’m older than you --”
“Only by two minutes. I’m the man here. I’ll lead, thank you.”
“WHAT? You... you... caveman --”
WHY NOT FRED? wrote Becky.
Dr. Roberts answered that one. “We almost did. But in the end, we thought it would be... ridiculous to rely on his... unique tendencies. We like your powers a lot better. All we ask is that you adjust to our way of thinking.” Becky didn’t know if the statement made her sick to her stomach or if it was the gentle lurching she felt from the giant hovercraft.
I DON’T WANT TO HURT ANYBODY, wrote Becky. Hunt snatched it from her hand.
“Didn’t I say that” he asked. “She’s quoting me.
“Rebecca,” spoke the doctor in a too-gentle voice. “Everybody wants to hurt somebody. We’re all going to obey the General. That’s the way we run things here.”
NO.
Roberts looked into her defiant eyes. “You just need more experience.” He was too pleasant.
Diamond had enough. “You’re right, doc. Becky, kill the table.”
That I can do, she thought, and opened wide. Diamond decked a soldier behind him and pulled Lizzie away from the table just before the whole sixty-foot object ignited. The General, Roberts and the rest of the VSO goons shot away from their chairs, half of which caught fire as well. The trio ran like hell.
“Seal us off! Make a wall!” Diamond told Becky. “Ho, get ready to molecularize! Hunt said we landed! It’s now or-”
A powerful burst of smoky-grey extinguishing fluid suddenly hit Becky blowing her halfway down the hall. Covered in the sticky foam, Becky found herself convulsing, unable to breathe. She was too far away from Lizzie and John to escape with.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Roberts told her. He was armed with an extinguisher. Hunt and another VSO soldier accompanied him. “Hunt! Pastula! Get the other two!” He ordered, his voice punctuated by a sudden lurching of the airship. It was lifting off again.
“FIRST PERSON I TOUCH BECOMES HORSE MANURE FOR 38 YEARS!!!” shouted Diamond. “Ho, there’s the exit! Get off!”
Becky, her eyes clouding over, struggled in vain to get to her feet. She looked like a gasping ice sculpture, glistening with chemicals. She couldn’t summon the flame. Roberts stood over her, touching her frozen forehead. If the others tried to help her, they’d get more of the same.
“HO, I SAID LET’S GET OFF!!” Diamond shouted.
“NO! BECKY’S HURT! WE’RE NOT LEAVING WITHOUT-- “
”YES, WE ARE! NO CHOICE! COME ON!!!” He pulled Lizzie through the hallway to the elevator platform they entered from. They were already one mile up.
“Well?” Lizzie said, arms crossed.
“Um...” Diamond gulped. “Parachute, ten minutes?”
“WHAT!? OH, NO YOU DO -- - !!!”
>POP!<
● ● ●
Inside the ship, Becky was quickly losing consciousness. I’m suffocating... John... Lizzie... please... help... Her eyes shut.
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Three
A Change of Plans
Hunt was returning walking past Robert towards the elevator platform. Glancing at the doctor and his captive, he added, “Is she dead, Doc? She looks it.” He kept walking.
“Of course not,” Roberts smiled. “She’s fine. Hunt, wait a minute”
The sergeant was brandishing his weapon, scanning the outside area with mini-binoculars. Ignoring Roberts, he called to the General. “This is ridiculous. Sir, we’ve lost them, but they can’t be far off. At least he can’t be. With five or six of us searching, we can nab him. Your orders?”
Roberts cut in. “General, that might be risky. I’m starting to think perhaps one mutant might be enough for now. I mean--”
“Are you kidding? That’s valuable property escaping as we speak,” Hunt spoke fast. “I’m on it, General--”
“Naaaaaah,” the VSO boss held up his hand. “Let them go for now. I don’t want my guys spending four decades as horseshit. Anyway, the doctor may be right. Geez Louise, she took out the table in no time flat.”
“And helped them escape,” Hunt added. “I accept full responsibility for their leaving, General, and I’m willing to retrieve them, dead or --”
“Hunt, don’t worry about ‘em. Just put out the table.”
“Yes sir.” He ran back to the conference room.
“You look very pleased with yourself, Damien,” observed the General.
“I am. I’m glad we didn’t lose this one.” He grinned.
“You and me both. She’s gonna be one hell of an asset to us.”
“Yes, indeed.” Magnificent, thought the doctor.
“Of course, with those two lovebirds flying the coop, we’re gonna have to push this little cupcake all the harder. That means--”
“I understand, General. Let me take responsibility for that. I’ll start her training, take her under my wing. This will work. I know it.”
“All-rightey, permission granted. Somebody, take us to the damn target!”
The hovercraft gracefully turned as only a flying hotel could.
Yes. Yes, yes, yes, YES! Roberts thought to himself, clenching his fist, restraining his desire to scream with joy. This is it. This is IT.
Hunt had returned, looking unemotionally at the unconscious girl.
“So we’re down to one,” he said.
“The best one,” Roberts smiled again, trying not to be too enthusiastic. “Hunt, get her out of those wet things and find some dry clothes for her. The infirmary, for now.”
The sergeant was almost able to suppress his smirk. Almost. “It’ll be my duty, sir.”
● ● ●
“Now you’ve done it,” Lizzie told John as the hovercraft flew off.
“Rub it in, babydoll, Diamond told her. “Do you think I wanted to leave her in there?”
“Babydoll? You chauvin... this is the VSO, Johnny! Do you have any idea -”
“Ho, it’s a lot easier for five people to rescue one person than two people to do it. I’m thinking about odds. It was my call.”
“Five people? What do you mean?”
“Rabikes? Fred? Moulty? HEL-LOOO!” Diamond was exasperated.
“Those three clowns? We’re better off without them! And speaking of odds, it’s 22 to 1 up there now from Becky’s perspective.”
“I know that!! Are you going to keep arguing, or would you rather be a backpack for six hours?”
“Don’t even try it, you caveman!” Lizzie ran ahead five steps.
“Babydoll!” he taunted her.
“CAVEMAN!”
“BABYDOLL!”
This went on for a while...
● ● ●
“Wake up, asshole.” A hand struck Christopher Rabikes’ face.
“Huh? Whuzzat?” Chris recovered. It was David Furfy.
“Four questions, joker,” Furfy began. “Who the hell is this idiot with the dark glasses, why do you leave your pets on the floor where they could be squashed, where’s my Becky and what the HELL are you doing floating on the ceiling?!?”
Aw, man, thought Chris. Where do I begin? “You won’t believe it.”
“Try me.”
● ● ●
“Wake up, Rebby. WAKE UP, REBBY! PLEASE WAKE UP! We gotta go! REBBY, WAKE UP! WAKE UP” Tracy was six again, her face contorted in tearful horror. Flames licked in the background. It was unbearably hot.
“I’m awake,” Becky cried-- then she realized she was upside-down, still secured by the seatbelt. She looked in the front seats, and screamed at the sight of her burned-beyond-recognition parents.--
--and her eyes shot open in the infirmary, darting wildly. She rose halfway off the medical cot, but something in her subconscious had kept her mouth clamped shut. “Nnnnnngh!” She screamed behind her teeth. Hunt and Fricker were on each side of her, restraining her arms. She was wearing a dark-green bathrobe, slippers and assorted extras. Roberts was present, too. “It’s all right! It’s all right,” he said soothingly. Shhhh-- shhh. Be gentle, men. Can’t you see she’s terrified? Not so rough.”
“She’s a lethal weapon, Doc. No point in taking chances,” Hunt said. “She’d better realize we’re not playing around here. We’ve got weapons, too.”
“She’s crying,” Fricker said. “S’matta, baby? I’m here for ya.”
Roberts told Hunt “Don’t you think she’d’ve opened her mouth already if she wanted to? She’s white as a sheet. Just everybody take it easy.”
“You say so, doc, but she’d better remember we’ve got tasers,” Hunt said.
“And I’ve got the cold-pacifier. We’re all right.” Reaching forward, Roberts dabbed her eyes with a cloth. “Good morning, Dragon.”
“Hrrrrrrr,” she warned, but her face betrayed her.
“Who does she think she is, Belker?” Fricker snickered.
“Watch your mouth,” Hunt warned her coldly. “I @#$%in’ mean it.”
Becky didn’t know what despaired her more: Hunt’s in-your-face attitude, Robert’s sickening pleasantness, or Fricker... in general. But obviously she was going to have to pick her battles. For now, she’d have to put up with the good-cop, bad-cop routine. She lay back on the cot warily.
Dr. Roberts approached again, this time with a needle. Becky shot herself up again, with more energy this time. Hunt and Fricker were on her again, but this time they held her legs down also, “Easy, young lady,” Roberts told her, “I am a doctor. This is Heparin...”
Becky grimaced. The shot gave her arm an ice-cold sensation.
“And this is Ativan. It’ll help you relax.” Another shot, not as unpleasant.
“And this is even better.” A third. God, enough already! Becky pleaded silently. “We don’t even have a name for that one yet. All right, let her go.”
They complied-- after Fricker licked her ankle. Becky glared at him.
“Fricker, cut that!” Hunt barked.
“You want me to cut that, Foxy?” Fricker asked her. She looked back at Roberts-- and saw he was now holding a flamethrower.
“You two keep back. This is just a demonstration, Rebecca. I promise you it’s not going to hurt. Your metabolism is very extraordinary.
She couldn’t look. Tremblingly, she closed her eyes. Tight.
“Shit, Doc, don’t burn her!” Fricker shouted.
“That’s just the point. I can’t. Not even with this flamethrower. It’s on full power. It’s almost as if... the fire has an understanding with her.”
She heard the whoosh, but felt nothing but a warm tingling about her. Cautiously opening her eyes, Becky saw Roberts through a kaleidoscope of red, orange and yellow. This was amazing and unexpected. She suddenly became light-headed and fell to her knees.
“Oh, my God,” Hunt said. “This is absolutely freaked-out. She’s unburnable. Wait ‘till the General hears this. Wow. What’s next?”
It almost makes sense, thought Becky. Friendly fire.
“On your feet, Dragon,” Roberts ordered cheerfully. “You’ve got two minutes. There’s your bathing suit. Use the curtain in stall B. Go on.” She noticed he was holding a fire extinguisher again, but he kept a discreetful distance. I’m not a dragon, creep, she thought angrily. And I’ll be ready in FIVE minutes!
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Four
First Mission: White Flint
“I don’t believe it,” Furfy interrupted Rabikes.
“It’s true, man, every word of it.”
“Get outta here!” he laughed uproariously.
“Moulty, tell him!” The little blue twit started talking. Furfy assumed it was just another practical joke and kept on laughing.
Then John and Lizzie rushed in...
● ● ●
The laboratory tank was 100 feet wide and eight feet deep, every inch full of liquid. It wasn’t water in the traditional sense. The chamber was locked by consecutive metal lids. When Becky refused Roberts’ request to enter it, Hunt and Fricker grabbed her bodily and tossed her in, then shut the chamber. Five minutes later, she was still fully alert and breathing... fluid. She heard Roberts’ voice on a special intercom transceiver.
“You can open her mouth while you’re inside there. Don’t worry, you won’t drown. You’ll be wet for ten hours. Think happy thoughts, and feel free to do all the swimming you want” Becky veered to the opposite end.
“We may make a SEAL outta her, yet,” chuckled the General.
“I think she’s kind of a wimp so far,” offered Hunt.
“Maybe. Everybody’s a wimp until they’re pushed hard enough.”
Think happy thoughts? Becky scoffed mentally. Okay. Doctor Roberts’ head on a platter. Fred Freshee being ground into hamburger and put in a sesame-seed bun. Ugh. That’s sick. Try another. Think happy... David busts in and tears the place apart. That’s good. He’d take down ten of these jerks easily. Too bad there’s twenty. What else? Pardy Hardy forgives the teenage torch. Well... I hope so. What else, what else. Being free. Getting out.
She was glad the others had escaped. So there was at least one chance in 3,000 they would find her. It would’ve been easier to think happy if Fricker didn’t keep following her outside the aquarium, left, right, left, right, his stupid tongue flicking all over the place, licking the glass, at one point actually writing a ? In front of her. For-get-it, she mouthed. There-is-NO-CHANCE. She heard Hunt laugh as she shot away from Fricker.
“When she’s out, she gets her first mission,” said the General.
“Certainly,” agreed Roberts. “The outside air should do her good.”
● ● ●
“God, no,” Furfy breathed. “This is... this is crazy! We’re getting married in five months, and you’re telling me she’s been kidnaped by the Army?”
“VSO,” Lizzie corrected. “They may be hard to track down.”
“It’s a large hovercraft, but a fast one,” Diamond added. “Lizzie and I touched down sixty miles from here. We had to steal Woodpecker’s car.”
“And you two left her up there?” Furfy was more stunned than angry.
“That’s my fault, not Lizzie’s. I saw an opening, and I took it. I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, they seem to want her alive.”
Furfy was very quiet. “If anything happens to her...”
“Cheese dip and Chex Mix! Yoo-hoo!” Moulty flapped in with lunch.
Furfy couldn’t believe this... person(?) Was their leader. “I can’t eat now.”
“Well, at least have a drink, Dave. You need something,” Chris said.
● ● ●
I SAID I DIDN’T WANT TO HURT ANYBODY!!! Becky wrote on a soldier’s clipboard. She was dry, dressed, but NOT ready.
“This isn’t about hurting,” Roberts told her. “This is your first assignment. This one doesn’t have to be violent. This is just a test. Consider it... your initiation. You don’t want to stay cooped up in this hovercraft all the time, do you?”
They’re taking me out? Becky thought. I might be able to escape then, but--
“Gutless,” Hunt shook his head. “I knew it.”
“Be quiet, Hunt,” Roberts spoke. “There are warriors and there are weaklings. I’m somewhere down the middle. It’s not her fault she was spoiled as a child. You and I and Emerson have to go to the mall with or without her. She can stay here with Fricker and the others.” Becky slammed her fist down on the table. “Yes?”
DIRTY POOL, she wrote.
“It what way?” Roberts asked, smiling.
“She just wants to go to the mall,” Hunt muttered.
“That’s what we all want, isn’t it?”
“We’re not buying her anything.”
FINE, DICKHEAD. WHICH MALL? She held up.
● ● ●
White Flint Mall, Rockville. Saturday, 11:33 am. Since the VSO van held four soldiers (plus Roberts) and each of them carried tasers, Becky decided to hold off any escape attempts for now. Except for Hunt, the VSO men were all in business suits. Private Emerson, in Becky’s mind, was probably the least obnoxious of the soldiers. Or was it just because he’d been the one who zapped Freshee?
“Yo, foxy, don’t make us use these things, okay?” He tapped a small solid bulge under his suit jacket. “And don’t be smokin’ me wid no dragon fire ‘n shit. I hate that.”
Besides the tasers, each man had several concealed weapons. Roberts waited outside in the van as Becky, Hunt, Emerson and two no-names entered White Flint as nonchalantly as possible. For ten minutes, nobody said anything. Becky wasn’t allowed to bring in the clipboard. They were now in the center of the mall. Finally Hunt’s wrist-radio beeped.
“This is Roberts. I’m sorry, Dragon. I lied. This is about hurting. There are seven guards for the two floors. Pick your favorite and burn one. You have somewhere between three to four minutes before Sgt. Hunt disposes of three patrons. If anything happens to Sgt. Hunt, the other men have their orders. Proceed.” Becky, aghast, looked at the soldiers accusingly.
What a time for Tom Christian to walk by, even if he was on vacation.
“Becky?” His voice made her heart jump into her mouth. She whirled, seeing him about twenty feet away. “Isn’t this a little out of your neck of the woods?”
Speechless and paperless. What the hell do I do? Becky thought frantically. “Are you all right?” Christian asked, confused. What do I do?!? Hunt, fingering his pockets, was positioning himself behind her English teacher. “Becky, are you sick?” She shook her head slightly. I can’t warn him! Hunt was closing. “Did I do something to offend you, Becky? Open your mouth! Stop him, before he-- “Becky-- “
Hunt’s hand came down on Christian’s shoulder. “Stop calling her Becky. Her name’s Janet, dammit. She’s deaf-- and my sister.”
Christian scoffed, “I think I know my students-- “
”Mission aborted! We’re pulling out. Dammit! Emerson, get her out! Everybody get out!” He whipped out a mini-gun. “Shut your eyes! Don’t make a sound! Keep that way for 30!” Christian obeyed. “Kill, sir?”
“Not if he shuts his eyes. Fall back, Hunt.”
“Right. Mission aborted.”
“This time,” Roberts said coldly. Whew, Becky thought, relieved.
When Christian opened his eyes they were all gone.
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Five
Roy Scheider
“Hiya, baby!” Fricker greeted her when they reboarded the hovercraft.
OH, SHUT UP! read the note. Becky had written it in advance.
“Lift off preparations. I’m sorry, Doc.” Hunt said. “That was shit-sloppy.”
“I have another idea,” Roberts replied. “She might like it better.”
The general scratched his head. “Wouldn’t you just know it. The minute we set up that little goil for action, she gets recognized. Aaaaaah!”
“Put her in the holding cell, Emerson. In one hour she gets to burn me.” Roberts was still smiling...
● ● ●
“Blast it,” Lizzie said. “My father knows nothing about the VSO.”
“Does anybody?” Diamond replied. “At least the police have the word out.”
“Time for me to tune in to the wavelengths. Maybe I can pinpoint something, somewhere, somehow.” But she suspected it was fruitless.
“Dave, she’s gonna be okay,” Rabikes promised.
“Chris, if you’re so sure of that, prove it. Otherwise, shut the hell up.”
Fred was awake now. “Hey,” he protested. “You can’t talk to Moulty’s Mutants™ like that.” He looked wounded.
Chris saved Fred from a serious ass-whipping by steering him in the other direction. “Beat it, Freshee. He’ll take your head off.”
“Easily fixed. But I’d like to point out that I’ve known Dragon since she was a half-pint-- longer than either of you--”
“Stop calling her that,” Furfy cut in.
“--and between the three of us, she kicked my ass all over the playground 49 percent of the time, so--”
Furfy’s expression darkened. “Only 49 percent? Did you hit her?”
Freshee knew he’d stumbled into a minefield. “Um... we were kids!” His voice rose an octave.
“So you’re not denying it, punk?” Furfy snarled. He stood up.
“Aw, c’mon, man-- my point was...”
“No one-- ever-- hits my Becky and lives-- ESPECIALLY when she’s a kid!” Fred rushed straight to the bathroom in a vain attempt to flush himself down the toilet. Rabikes struggled to hold it in... particularly when he heard diddlysquat from the bathroom...
● ● ●
Dr. Roberts was on fire. The General and the soldiers watched, impressed.
Actually, it was Roberts’ metallic asbestos bodysuit that was on fire, not him himself. It protected him completely; even the rectangular eye slots weren’t affected due to asbestos glass/plastic shielding. He and Becky were on opposite ends of the immense chamber (which was usually reserved for war games). He’d ordered her to “let me have it,” and she did, lightly at first, then doubled, tripled and quadrupled the power by keeping her mouth wide open.
Roberts staggered somewhat, more from the force than the heat. Becky wasn’t as reluctant to shoot flame at him now, not after the stunt he had pulled at White Flint. Still, she’d been flaming him for three minutes. Doesn’t this damn stuff ever run out? she thought. How much fire can there be?
The General and the men observed from above, behind glass.
“All right, that’s enough,” Roberts said on his suit-speaker. He was laughing. “Cool down now! Stop it! That was fantastic! Cool down... close... that’s it.”
Becky obeyed, feeling slightly feint. It did feel kind of good to “burn” the doctor. She noticed all the fire in the room had respectfully curled around her during the inferno blast. The rest was being doused by auto-sprinklers.
The men came down. Roberts was ecstatic, checking his heat monitor and shedding his suit. “THREE THOUSAND DEGREES! THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!” He laughed again, almost giggling. “YOU’RE FANTASTIC! DID YOU ALL SEE THAT? God, I’m sweating like a pig in this -- ” The others watched him, perplexed. He cleared his throat. “Well, then. I guess we’re done for today.” He ran up to Becky, spun her around and kissed her forehead. “That’s my Dragon!” She winced, pulling away. “Cheer up now. The best is yet to come.”
Hunt took her to her holding cell, which was about seven feet high, but only three feet wide. “Bedtime, foxy.” It was early afternoon. “General’s orders.”
She began to write, PLEASE. I’M CLAUSTROPHOBIC--
He slapped the note off, pushed her back and slapped the cell door hard. “Get the @#$% in there!” He turned out most of the lights and stormed off. Becky sunk down to the floor, her eyes welling with tears...
● ● ●
“Honey, wake up. Honey! Wake-- up. It’s time to go! C’mon, honey!” Furfy was shaking her. “They’re dead, honey. I killed ‘em. Let’s go, honey.”
Becky’s eyes opened. To her absolute joy, she realized it was David Furfy. Better yet, his face was completely scarless. She reached out, touching it.
“How do you like it?” he asked, smiling. “Seems like old times, doesn’t it?”
“DAVID!” she screamed gratefully-- and burned his face off on both sides.
● ● ●
NO!!! she thought, horrified, waking up, hitting her hands on the cell-door glass. Again her subconscious had kept her trap shut, but that didn’t stop her trembling. Directly outside, Hunt and Roberts were arguing.
“In case you haven’t realized it yet, my authority takes precedence when the well-being of my patient is involved! I didn’t authorize locking her up!”
“The General takes precedence! If he authorizes it, it’s done! She--”
“If he does, I’m still informed! She is MY responsibility! I’m releasing her now! You’re not going to jeopardize our progress! Stay away from my patient!”
“Gladly, Doc” Hunt walked off. “Have a great time with your pet!”
Roberts released Becky from the cell, then covered his face with his hands. “Sometimes I truly hate this job,” he told her.
THANK YOU, she wrote.
Roberts sighed. “Let’s take a walk. I want to show you something.” She hesitated. “Just you and me. No soldiers. I would’ve done this earlier, but the General’s dog had to interfere. Now, please don’t get any ideas. We are alone, but there are surveillance cameras on all twenty decks, in every room, so please behave. The last thing I want is you getting hurt.
I WANT TO GO HOME, she held up.
“We can’t always get what we want,” Roberts said quietly. “But I hope this will be an adequate substitute. Here’s your new quarters, Dragon.”
I wish he’d stop calling me-- oh, my. The room was spacious. There were no windows, and whatever security cameras were in there were well hidden. The bed was queen size. “That’s very comfortable. It belonged to the General’s wife before his alimony. Now, all the accessories aren’t in yet, because I don’t know your specific person tastes. Except for those, of course.” Becky passed a large screen monitor, a CD player and a bookshelf-- then did a double take. The entire video collection of Roy Scheider was stacked in front of her, nice and neat. Oooooh! Realizing her excitement got the better of her, she almost giggled.
“Careful,” Roberts laughed. “That’s probably the only copy of Last Embrace left in the country. I have a thing for Della Reese myself.
Stop it, Doc, you’re killing me! she thought. If she giggled now, this entire beautiful room could be destroyed, and those even-more-beautiful tapes.
OH, MAN, YOU PLAY DIRTY, she wrote.
Roberts laughed again. “I just want you to be comfortable. What kind of CDs do you enjoy? It doesn’t matter how long the list is. Rock-and-roll?
BEATLES, she wrote.
“Who are they?” Roberts asked, deadpan, forcing Becky to suppress another giggle. “Seriously, the VSO will provide you with anything. You can have your pick of clothes within the hour. You can have any man on the ship, except for the General and myself, of course.” She raised her eyebrows on that one. “They’re soldiers, Rebecca. They’re near your age-bracket. Are you interested?”
In spite of herself, she wrote MMMMAYBE. Her loyalty to David was iron-clad, but, after all, there were nineteen big, strong guys aboard, twenty if you counted Fricker (!) , so maybe a little platonic fun between the troops might give her an opportunity to escape. David would understand.
“All right. You’ll have time to consider that,” Roberts said. “You have a golden retriever at home. We have a few dogs on board the hovercraft, too. Would you like one for your room?
Becky shook her head. MIGHT BURN IT. She sat down on the bed.
Roberts stood, continuing “Don’t worry about that. I can do much more for you. I can give you a halfway-normal life. You’ll be able to eat again, drink, laugh, have sex, gargle.” He sat beside her. “Open your mouth.”
She turned her head to him. “Open your mouth. No need to turn your head.” She was hesitant. “That’s an order.” Finally, he put his hand on her lips and slowly opened them. There was no flame. Becky was stunned.
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Six
The Miracle Worker
âRemember that nameless drug I gave you? Roberts asked. âAnd your fluid bath? Both my inventions. Am I good? Say something.â
âOh, my God,â Becky breathed. âYou... you cured me?â
âNo, I... donât have that power. I found a way to regulate your flame, thatâs all.â
âRegulate it? You mean turn it on and off, or something?â
âExactly. I like your voice, Dragon. Itâs music to my stethoscope.â
âB-B-But how do I turn this on and off? How do I control it?â
âYou wonât burn me if I tell you?â
âNo, of course I wonât! Tell me, please-- â
âAll right,â agreed Roberts. âItâs very simple. Pretend Iâm you. My arms are your arms. Watch me. You clench your fists... then flick out your fourth and seventh fingers. Donât do it here, youâll burn your Scheiders. We can practice later. Donât you want to talk some more?
âYES!!!â Becky jumped off the bed.
âOf course, thereâs just one thing you have to do in return,â Roberts reminded her.
âDoc, I wonât...â
âKill for us.â
? ? ?
Back at Mutant Central, no news was not good news. Fred had reassembled himself, and Furfy had calmed down a bit. Lizzie was wearing herself out on the wavelengths and getting no decent info in return. Moulty had almost perished an hour ago when Rabikes mistakenly shut the door to the microwave. He was recuperating in his cage. Rabikes was floating all over the country but found nothing.
âTake a break, miss,â Furfy told Lizzie. âYouâve done more work than all of us combined.â
Lizzie stopped. âIâll try again in ten minutes, Mr. Furfy.â
Fred asked Furfy, âWould ya like an apple?â
âNo, I would not like an apple.â
âHow âbout you, Miz Hardy?â
Lizzie nodded, kissed the apple and added it to her collection.
âWooooooozy,â Moulty moaned.
What kind of pathetic operation is this? Furfy thought. Chris floating over the city like some idiotic one-eyed balloon, plus this Freshee guy--
Pardy Hardy burst in loudly, slamming the door and pushing Fred aside. âOutta the way, stupid.â Her wrist and hand were bandaged.
âPardy?â asked Diamond, surprised.
âNooo, F. Murray Abraham! WHO THE HECK DO YA THINK IT IS!!! No more chores for me today, alright? Iâve been wounded in the line of duty!â
âHiya, Prudence,â Fred greeted.
âIâll prudence you right up your apple-pickinâ sorry behind, ya piece of-- â
âPardy!â Lizzie shouted. âI forgot all about you!â
âYou would, Ho-o brain!â Her face scrunched up in an imitation of evil. âNow where is she,â Pardy asked in a guttural voice. âI got a score to settle!â
âHow did you get back?â Lizzie asked.
âI hitch-hiked!â
âYou WHAT?!?â
âWell, I tried to, but the first guy ordered me to get the hell out of his Pontiac after ten minutes, so I ran back to the hospital, jumped on top of a movie ambulance like Gennivivia Bujollawhatever in âComa,â then I got to the 17th street bridge, so I jumped down to the lower street on top of a school bus, just like Dirty Harry, and then here I am.â
âOutstanding,â Fred marveled.
âThatâs dangerous!â Lizzie shouted.
âThatâs dangerous!â Pardy mocked, saying it with a pathetically whiny tone.
âWooooo-zy,â complained Moulty.
Pardy slammed her fists together. âNow where is that red-headed, big-boobed, punching-bag-to-be-- â Then she saw Furfy. âWOW!!!â Until now, the two had never met. She was fascinated, not repelled, by his face.
Furfy tried not to seem scary. He smiled at Pardy, said âAre you threatening my girlfriend?â He knelt down close to her face.
Lizzie couldâve sworn she heard Pardy say âtee-hee,â but it couldnât be... could it?
âDavid Furfy, Pardy Hardy,â Lizzie introduced them.
Pardy Furfy? thought Pardy, intrigued. What da hell does he see in Becky?
âIâll tell you, Pardy,â Furfy said. âYou have kind of a take-charge attitude. Maybe we need some more of that here. Your parakeet friendâs out of commission. Maybe youâre the one who should be leading this group.â
âEep!â Lizzie gulped.
âOH, GOD, NO!!â Diamond screamed. Fredâs apple fell out of his mouth.
âYEAH!â Pardy slapped Furfyâs hand. âConsider it dooded!â The phone rang. Pardy snatched it up, barked âWe donât want any!â and hung up. It immediately rang again. âWhat?â Pardy asked, annoyed. Then she sneered at Lizzie. âTom Christian on line two.â
? ? ?
âThereâs no way,â Becky said. âI wonât kill for you.â
âYes, you will,â Roberts replied calmly.
âNo, I wonât.â
He just stared at her with that patronizing smile of his, saying nothing.
âStop that,â Becky told him.
âYou are going to be so good.â There was pride in his voice.
âThis is as good as I get. Do I have to stay here?â
âYou have clearance for all of deck 13, which this is. If you try to visit the other decks unattended, itâll be very painful.â
âUh-huh. You said I could have any soldier on this ship,â she reminded.
âYes, I did. Get in line and weâll give you five.â
âOne will do for now. Whereâs Sgt. Hunt?â
âExcuse me?â Roberts turned, surprised.
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Seven
The Tongue
Hunt, Fricker, Emerson and the rest of the goon squad were chowing down on the daily rations, unaware things were about to take a surprising turn.
âHe sure gave her a big-ass room to play around in,â bitched Emerson. âWe set it up this morning. Itâs huge, man. Almost as big as the Generalâs. We get ten-by-ten feet at best. Is that justice?â
âQuit griping,â Fricker said.
âI like gripinâ.â
âSheâs very special broadstuff. Ergo cognito kumquat, special treatment.â
âWhat?â
âI want everybody to watch her like a hawk from here on in,â Hunt said. âDonât let your guard down. Keep your tasers charged. She-- â
She was entering the room with Roberts. She was grinning like the Cheshire cat.
â--is definitely up to something,â Hunt finished, eyes fixed on Becky.
âIâm always charged,â Fricker said. âWho needs tazers? Youâd better be careful, Kevin. She hates you.â She was walking slowly but surely to them.
âUp yours,â Hunt snarled to Fricker. Roberts stood way back, thinking, Iâm impressed. Sheâs going to try to neutralize her chief tormentor with a charming offensive. But can it possibly work? This is the last thing Iâd expected to happen. He waited curiously.
âMm-hmmmmm,â Becky hummed in anticipation. She was two feet from Hunt.
He looked at her like a laser. âWhat the hell do you want? Weâre eating.â
âMm-hmmmm...â
âSorry, Miss Keller. Lost your little clipboard? Tough!â
âDonât NEED IT!â Becky half-shouted happily, as Huntâs eyes bulged.â He recoiled back quite a few feet. Emerson all but somersaulted off his spot. Food spilled all over. Fricker, whoâd been looking at his meatballs, whipped around like a shot, smiling. Every soldier was freaked; most had instinctively gone for their tasers but stopped short of zapping her.
âIâll be damned,â said Hunt, still staring.
âCould be,â Becky replied, savoring their reaction. She had power at last. âEspecially if my fiancé gets his hands on you.â
âFoxy, you can talk!â Fricker said cheerfully.
âYeah.â She kept looking squarely at Hunt. âSo! You want to dance with a dragon, shark-eyes? Here I am.â
âHOOOO-HOOOOO-HOOOOOOOO!!!â whooped Emerson and the others. Hunt was silent, completely taken aback. Five seconds later he said âAre you high? Doc, whatâd you give her?â
Becky sighed. âWhat a wuss. Figures. Emerson! Câmere!â
Emerson made it halfway to her until Hunt blocked him with one arm. âAs you were, private. Sheâs dangerous, remember? Youâre too valuable to risk like that. As sergeant, itâs my responsibility to take the heat.â Roberts and Becky both laughed. âIf there is any.â Hunt stepped forward.
âMan! I was this close!â Emerson complained.
âBesides, if she thinks Iâm afraid of [/i]her,[/i] sheâs out of her mind.â He took her arm, but Becky held up hers.
âNot so fast. I want a slow dance. Doc, do we have a radio station on that intercom? I thought so. Play something sweet. Okay, Kevin. Iâm ready.â
âOh, so now itâs Kevin, is it? This is so transparent,â Hunt said. But he started dancing anyway.
âDonât do anything I wouldnât do,â said Roberts, and left the room.
Why am I doing this? Becky wondered. Because, stupid, if I can play up my natural cuteness, and not be too blatant about it... maybe â just maybe -- these bastardsâll start seeing me as a person. Like Roberts does.
âYouâre really young to be a sergeant,â she said.
âNot really. Iâm just good at what I do.â
âYouâre a pretty good dancer, too.â
Hunt exhaled. âFox, this isnât gonna change anything.â
Becky pretended to be miffed. âWell, at least Iâm trying to be nice, Kevin.â
âI know exactly what youâre trying. Itâs not gonna work.â
âFine, then. Letâs stop dancing.â
âNegative.â Hunt told her. âI donât like leaving anything unfinished.â He drew her in closer. âAnd stop calling me Kevin.â The soldiers snickered.
âSure,â Becky complied. âUm... where did you serve? Before this.â
âKuwait, Iraq...â
âOh. Did you ever...â she trailed off.
Hunt tensed up, but kept dancing. âNever ask that.â
âSorry, Kevin. But Iâm being trained for -- â
âYes,â he admitted.
âDropped a lot of bombs. Heâs a stone-cold killer,â Fricker whispered, and licked Beckyâs hand. The dancers halted. âHe ainât in the VSO for kicks.â
âFricker,â Becky hissed. âIâm getting tired of this.â
âCome off it! I havenât locked you since yesterday!â he protested.
âYouâd better not lick me ever again,â she said.
He jumped forward and licked her cheek. Flick âem! Becky thought, and spat a small ball of flame into HIS cheek. âAHH!!!â Fricker yelled.
The soldiers jumped up, but Hunt said âStand down! This is getting interesting...â
Becky folded her arms, feeling satisfied. About time, Hunt! But Fricker was still smiling. âThat hurt, Foxy,â he growled, flicking his tongue.
âPut that thing away. Iâm NOT going to tell you again,â she warned.
âAw, câmon, Foxy-baby, just lemme lock you in the eye -- â
He sprung at her, tongue flicking away wildly. She ducked, whirled around and flamed him hard, right in the butt.
âOW! OW! OWWWWWW!!!â The corporal screamed, running around the mess hall like a totally deranged ostrich. Two of the soldiers grabbed portable extinguishers and doused Frickerâs burning buttocks. Two others pointed their weapons at Becky. She cut off the flame and held up her hands in surrender. Well, thatâs the end of that! She thought.
The General burst in, smoking his cigar. âWhat the @#$%inâ hellâs going on here? Hus buns are broiled!
âItâs all under control, sir.â said Hunt.
Becky pointed accusingly at Fricker. âHE WAS LICKING ME!â
? ? ?
They brought her into the Generalâs office, but she was in no real trouble.
âIâm sure you know Frickerâs reputation, General. He instigated the burning. All the soldiers saw it as described. Isnât that right, Hunt?â said Roberts.
âPluckin-A, Doc. Fox was defending herself. Iâd also like to add that had Fricker not left his rear exposed, he wouldnât be in such pain right now.â He didnât smile Becky giggled. âWhatâd I say?â
âIs he gonna pull through?â asked the General, concerned.â
Robert was trying not to smile. âNobody ever died from a burned butt, General.â He smiled, now trying not to laugh. âCorporal Licker-- ahem-- Fricker just needs approximately 30 pounds of Desenex f-f-or his... for his... b-burned b-b-b-b...â He covered his mouth, unable to continue.
âThis isnât funny, Doc,â Hunt stressed. âAre we excused?â
âNo, it ainât. No, youâre not,â the General rasped. âI wanna make one thing poifectly clear, Hortense-- â
âRebecca,â Robert corrected.
âWhatever-- I suck with names-- lady, whoever, you are not to flick those fingers without explicit authorization! Do you understand?â
âYes, maâam.â Becky agreed. Hunt gave her a look. âSir. Whatever.â
âNo unauthorized fire. No more burning butts. Now youâre excused.â
âThank you, sir,â said Hunt. Becky and Hunt heard the other men laughing loudly as they left the office.
? ? ?
Chris Rabikes returned to the house. âAny word, Uhura?â He asked Lizzie.
âYes,â she answered, disengaging from the television. âTom Christian saw Becky at White Flint Mall two days ago. He said she looked nervous, and a soldier in uniform prevented Tom from helping her.â
âDamn. Well, sheâs alive... at least two days ago. Anything else?â
âJohnny and David are on their way up to White Flint. It may not be much, but theyâre going to dig up whatever information they can.â
âGood. Iâve been putting up HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BABE posters all over the area. Dave must be going insane. I hope he doesnât get out of hand.â
âI told Johnny to change him into something if he does.â Lizzie said.
âHa-ha. By the way... whereâs Moulty? Did he make it?â
âHeâs better now.â she nodded.
âDamn,â Rabikes cursed. Couldnât anything go right.?
âSlight-ly wooo-zzzy...â
âChris, thereâs something you should know,â Lizzie said gravely.
âMore bad news?â
âThe worst.â She paused for effect. âPardyâs in charge now.
âGood, I trust her leadership skills more than yours,â he said without missing a beat. âIâm kidding, babe. Whereâs Freshee?â
âSupermarket,â she sighed.
Rabikes spat âThat dumbass and his apples! Is that all he ever thinks about! Becky could be...â he stopped. âGotta think positive.â
Pardy, driving a Big-Wheelâ¢, came from behind a corner. She saw Rabikes and barked âCHRISTOPHER RABIKES, FRONT AND CENTER!â Moulty and his cage were tied to the back of the kiddie-car.
âOkay, kid. Iâm back. And youâre in charge? What do we do now?â
âYou, I and the budgie here are gonna get airborne! Get your hands on back of his cage and push us up with your Zero-G powers! Then weâre outta here. Youâve lifted Becky before, so this should be no problem!â
âYouâre right!â Chris said. âThis is brilliant! Weâre number one again!â He started pushing them outside. âYour father couldnât do it better!â
âCOME BACK HERE!!!â Lizzie shouted, eyes bulging. âYOUâRE NOT GOING OUT LIKE THAT! USE THE LIMOUSINE INSTEAD!â
Moulty pleaded âPlease-- no more limos! Oooooohhh...â
âWeâll be okay, Lizzie,â promised Rabikes. They were already in the air.
âPARDY, GET THE BLANK DOWN HERE!!â Lizzie ordered.
âCHILL OUT, SIS! JUST KEEP CHECKINâ THE WAVELENGTHS! WEâLL BE BACK AS SOON AS WE-- gee, Chris is that a 747?â
âCRIPES! HARD TO STARBOARD!â
âWEâRE UPSIDE-DOWN! OUTTA THE WAY, AMERICAN AIRLINES!!â
âDIDDLE-DIDDLE-DIDDLE!!â
âPEDAL FASTERâ
âIâM PEDALINGâ
Lizzie got back into the house and went straight for the tranquilizers. âOh, GOD...â
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Eight
Man on Fire
After the relatively good day she had, Becky was sleeping like a baby.
Something stirred under her bed. It was a 185-pound man. The figure, well-trained in military stealth, managed to clear the underside of the bed without making a sound. It was pitch-black in Beckyâs room. The figure stared at the bed, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A few minutes later, he moved...
Becky awoke, sensing... something. No noise, nothing visible. But something was different. She peered drowsily into the darkness, but didnât move.
Someone was fumbling with the hooks on her overalls.
Becky screamed a torrent of fire. The room lit up with an orange glow. Fricker screamed. His tongue was on fire. So were his arms, legs and torso. It took less than a second for it to spread. âAAAAHHHH!!!â
Becky had the flame going for roughly three seconds. It was more than enough. She flicked her fingers again, stopping the flow-- and kept screaming. She fell back against a wall, immobilized with horror, her screams were mixing with Frickerâs.
About 30 seconds later, her door boomed open. Hunt, Emerson and three more soldiers burst in. All carried heavy-duty extinguishers. Emerson had Doctor Robertâs ultra-cold pacifier. The men shouted all over each other.
âSHIT!â
âWHAT THE HELL?â
âHEâS BURNING UP!â
âMEDIC! MEDDDIC!â That one came from Fricker.
Emerson covered Becky, but it was impossible to tell which one was more horrified. The other soldiers let loose, spraying Fricker repeatedly. His body wriggled, spasmed, and fell to the floor like a ton of burned bricks.
âSOMEBODY GET ROBERTS!!!â Hunt screamed. He was inspecting the damage, but he didnât know where to start. Fricker wasnât moving.
âI DIDNâT MEAN TO KILL HIM!â Becky pleaded urgently. âI DIDNâT WANT-- he was going to-- he was going to... â She tried to stop shuddering.
âI get the picture, Fox,â Hunt interrupted. âYou stay right there. Just donât move.â He was closest to the charbroiled soldier. âYou stupid bastard,â he muttered to Fricker, âof all the times to show your saliva. DAMN!â
? ? ?
Now the VSO squad had two black soldiers, except for Frickerâs beet-red face...
Becky was distraught. Things had been going so well. Hunt was loosening up; she could talk, laugh or do anything a normal teenager could do. Now, thanks to Fricker, it was straight back to awful again. Like the burning of Pardy, only five times worse. Three hours ago, after the butt-burning, she was actually starting to like her power.
Using it now had changed all that. Huntâs expression was neutral, but all the other soldiers were visibly afraid of her. It showed in their eyes. They charged their tasers, trying not to look at the blackened mass of Corporal Fricker...
Posts: 10,897
Threads: 618
Joined: May 2009
Chapter Nine
The Final Frick
âWHAT?â the General shouted.
âHeâs still alive, but I had to bandage him everywhere,â said Roberts. âHis face was lucky in comparison, but it still caught residual burns. He is 100% bandaged, with the obvious exception of his straw-hole and urinary exit. I want him taken off active duty immediately.
âWell, I guess weâll have to, considering. He ainât gonna be much use like that!â
âAlso, he has to leave the hovercraft. His injuries are far too advanced. I canât help him here. Weâll drop him off in Omaha, and the VSO burn-unit specialists can take better care of him. If he can just hang on six more hours, weâll be there.â
âI thought Iâd killed him. It was horrible,â Becky breathed. She was still upset.
The General turned on her. âYou! What did I tell you about flicking! I SAID NO FLICKING! YOU DISOBEYED ORDERS! I CAN HAVE YOU TERMINATED IN TEN SECONDS! You READ ME, LADY?â He shook his cigar in her face.
âNO!!â Roberts shouted. âDonât...â
âI can have you crispy-fired in three!â Beckyâs voice teetered on hysteria. âYou GUYS ABDUCTED ME AT GUNPOINT! PUT ME IN THIS FLOATING PRISON! YOUâRE TRYING TO TURN ME INTO A KILLER! YOU NEVER LEAVE ME ALONE! THE ONE TIME I ALMOST GET A GOOD NIGHTâS SLEEP, THAT PERVERT ALMOST -- â
âFox, thatâs enough!â Hunt told her. âCool down!â
âHE SCARED THE HELL OUT OF ME! DO YOU THINK I WANTED THIS?â Becky shrieked at the General. âYOU WANTED FIRE, YOUâVE GOT IT! IâLL FIRE UP RIGHT IN YOUR FAT BLASTED FACE, YOU VSO PIG!!!â
âFox, I said stop it! Be quiet!â Hunt ordered.
âSHUT UP, KEVIN! THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND HIM!!â Becky said furiously.
âGeneral, please listen to me!â Roberts said desperately, fearing a showdown.
But the VSO boss was equally apoplectic. The stress of the moment kept building between Becky and the General. Their faces were mere inches apart. âIâM TOP DOG HERE, FLAMEBITCH! YOUâRE GONNA DO WHAT I SAY, WHEN I SAY IT!!â He shoved his cigar into her chin, with no results. She glared back, immune to his flame.
âSir! Fricker did try to jump her,â Hunt said, trying to defuse the conflict.
âIn her own room!â Roberts added. âAt 2 AM.â
Becky calmed down a bit. She seized the cigar and stomped it with her boot. âI hate smoke. Now get out of my face, or I swear to God Iâll kill you.â She looked positively feral.
The Generalâs hand shot into his pocket. âGENERAL!â Roberts begged.
âWHAT, Damien? Canât you see Iâm in a situation here?â
âPlease! Please... Iâm trying to say that... weâve invested so much in her, and in her training. We canât just stop now. We need her. What she did to Fricker, accidentally or not, is precisely what weâre training her to do. And she did it superbly. Letâs just... consider this... an unscheduled test. An important step.â
The General rolled his eyes under his glasses. âAaaaaah, get her out of my sight!â Then he added âJust one more thing, kiddie! You too, Doctor! If [i]anybody[i] else on this ship gets burned by her-- to any degree-- THATâS IT! No debates! I pull her plug!â
Roberts ushered Becky out before she could argue. âDonât say a word. Get back to bed. Go back to sleep.â She slammed her door and let out a primal scream.
? ? ?
Fricker was stretchered out in the infirmary, completely covered in gauze. Roberts was surprised to see Becky standing nearby.
âI wonât apologize for what I did,â Becky told Fricker, âbut I didnât mean it to happen like this.â
Fricker said something very faintly.
âWhat?â Becky asked, reluctantly leaning over his bandaged body.
âSâallright...â he spoke very slowly, with extreme difficulty. âDonât... worry... your... pretty... little... head... about it... Foxy...â There was no malice whatsoever in his voice.
âGood luck, Fricker.â They took him off the ship shortly afterward.
|
![[Image: T_Dragon_zps97f2dcd0.png~original]](http://i1306.photobucket.com/albums/s561/DerVVulfman/Fiction/T_Dragon_zps97f2dcd0.png~original)
![[Image: T_Becky_zps0b6eed05.png~original]](http://i1306.photobucket.com/albums/s561/DerVVulfman/Fiction/T_Becky_zps0b6eed05.png~original)
![[Image: T_Dragon_zps97f2dcd0.png~original]](http://i1306.photobucket.com/albums/s561/DerVVulfman/Fiction/Dragon_zpse2bf4cb3.png~original)
![[Image: T_Becky_zps0b6eed05.png~original]](http://i1306.photobucket.com/albums/s561/DerVVulfman/Fiction/Becky_zps431b4d2d.png~original)