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EPISODE ELEVEN
by Dan Wallace
The tables had suddenly been turned on Wargen Rast. Lyssa buffeted
him with blow after blow of tightly compressed air, disorienting him and
keeping him off balance. Areon fell into an easy rhythm of following up her
attacks with his own. With Rast’s armor severely damaged, a final powerful
kick to his stomach from Areon sent him tumbling against the wall behind
him.
Areon and Lyssa moved in to keep him on the defensive but were
halted by an anguished scream that froze them to the core.
They turned to see Devin cradling Cory’s limp body. His eyes were
smoldering coals, his gaze locked intently on the man responsible for her
condition. Without a moment’s hesitation, he raised his free arm to reach
out toward the mercenary. His hand glowed as intense heat coalesced around
it. The air ignited and a searing blast of flame swirled and twisted across
the room. It only narrowly missed Areon and Lyssa before engulfing Rast in
a roaring blaze.
Redundant life support systems still functioned well enough to cool
the interior of his battlesuit to a survivable temperature but the wall
behind him quickly turned to molten slag. It flowed around and over him,
the metal fusing to his armored shell as it re-solidified.
Lyssa approached their former captor cautiously and stared at him in
disbelief. “Damn! That was amazing!
“I tracked this guy for years and could never do better than a draw.
You all take him on and he goes down in minutes. I’m impressed!”
Areon grunted. “Yeah. We do great work. Getting’ captured our first
day on the job was all part of our master plan.”
Devin had practically forgotten about Rast almost immediately after
lashing out against him and had quietly withdrawn into himself. He held
Cory tightly against his chest with his face buried in her hair. His
shoulders trembled slightly as Areon approached him from behind.
“How’s she doing?”
Devin gave no indication that he had heard the question. Tear soaked
hair was plastered to his face, enveloping him in darkness while the
turmoil of his thoughts made the world around him seem distant and
ephemeral.
Areon reached out and touched his shoulder. “Is she gonna be all
right?”
Devin whirled around, his concentration broken. “How the hell should
I know? Am I a medic now?”
“No!”
“What?” Areon asked and then realized that the raspy voice was
neither Devin’s nor Lyssa’s. He turned and saw that Cory had suddenly
bolted upright in Devin’s arms as if having been startled awake by a
horrifying nightmare.
“No!” she screamed again. “He…it was Rast. His thoughts… They were
so violent!
“He’s hiding something, something worth dying for. He just initiated
a timed detonator in his helmet. It’s powerful enough on its own but it
will also trigger more explosives throughout the building. There’s no way
we can get clear in time.
“When he goes we all go.”
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"Distant Storms" is ©
and ™ Dan Wallace 2002
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