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EPISODE EIGHT
by Dan Wallace
Twenty-seven times, Brithe absorbed and returned the
electricity filling the cylinder that held him captive. Each time his body
stiffened more as the powerful bolts rippled across his scaled flesh. He
could feel himself burning from the inside out and was ready to drop. In
fact, he would have collapsed already if not for the fact that so much
electricity coursed through his body that every muscle was seized, keeping
him frozen in place for as long as the current continued to flow.
The pain was becoming almost unendurable for the young Jotranthian
but it was worse by far for Cory who shunted most of the searing agony into
herself. She knelt on the floor of her own prison, her body rigid as well
as she maintained her intense concentration. Perspiration plastered her
long blonde hair to her bone white face. The world around her had long
since faded into obscurity as her mind submerged itself into that of her
teammate.
So deep was she that it barely even registered when, on Brithe’s
twenty-eighth attempt, everything came apart. Brithe’s cylinder exploded
from within in a shower of molten plastic, ceramic and metal. The
electrical overload surged through the twisted maze of wiring, fusing
trigger circuits and blowing out the remaining cylinders with only slightly
less spectacular fireworks.
With nowhere else to go, the current converged on the seat that Rast
had connected himself to. The chair and its surrounding mechanisms blew
apart as well. Liquid sprayed from severed lines and blue-white arcs of
lightning danced around the armored mercenary, sending him flying when the
whole apparatus exploded violently.
Brithe and Cory’s efforts had freed Devin, Areon and Lyssa and they
took advantage of the situation immediately. The three of them raced
forward even as debris continued to rain down around them. They converged
on Rast but Devin hesitated when he saw a motionless form lying amidst the
rubble.
“Cory?”
He ran back to her side and lifted her head to his chest to feel for
a pulse. It still raced but was slowing quickly and she was hardly
breathing at all. Despite the flames that flickered around them, she felt
cold to his touch and she was only growing colder.
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"Distant Storms" is ©
and ™ Dan Wallace 2001
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