The Lightning Lords

by M C Rooney

  He sent lightning bolt after lightning bolt in all directions, even into the sky. He didn’t even care whether he hit anybody; it was just for the pure joy of the power he had. He then saw a man with a huge beard take a bolt of lightning across the chest. “Ha. I must have hit him by accident,” he said, still laughing.

  He noticed the man was now being dragged away by two others. Such good friends, Rodent thought sourly, as he had never had a true friend in all of his life. He lined up a shot to kill them out of pure jealousy and spite, then remembered how many men in total were out looking for him.

  I have to hide, he thought, I cannot kill them all.

  And so he shot the departing men an angry glare and ran for the nearest trees to gain some cover and some valuable thinking time. He didn’t realise that more men were waiting for him there, and he had never been a very good thinker anyway.

  “Here he comes,” said Jeremiah as a short man in a silver suit ran awkwardly towards them. “Are you sure this will work, Sam?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Sam replied, though he was anything but sure. Rodent may not even step into the snare traps they had set.

  “What was he firing at before?” asked Jeremiah, who was starting to look a bit panicky.

  “I think it was Alex,” Sam said quietly and tried to calm an overwhelming sense of fear for his brother.

  “We should just kill him and be done with it,” said Jeremiah.

  “No,” said Sam. “I want his suit, and the only way we can get it is by capturing him, not filling him and the suit full of holes.”

  Jeremiah looked pleadingly at his friend.

  “All right,” Sam said with a sigh. “If the plan doesn’t work, then we fill him full of arrows. Spread the word.”

  Jeremiah darted off to tell the other nine men.

  He looks quite pleased, the coward, Sam thought angrily. Sam always replaced fear with anger. Alex, where are you? he thought. But concerns for his brother were outweighed by the dangerous Rodent. A paradox if ever there was one. Giving the unspoken order for everybody to hide, Sam and his group waited for Rodent to walk into what they hoped would be a well-planned trap. It wasn’t. The idiot somehow knew where they were hiding, he somehow knew to avoid the snare traps, and the man who Sam thought was a complete and utter waste of space started killing all of his friends.

  Tom, Locke, and Renee had left their horses behind near the old road, which they had travelled and crept quietly with their bows raised towards a small ridge that overlooked where large explosions were now erupting.

  “Should we be doing this, Breaker?” Tom asked and was surprised when their leader looked back at him with an uneasy look on his face.

  “I’m not sure, Tom,” he replied. “We need to know what we are facing, but to do that, we have to actually get near our foe.”

  “Horrible balance,” said Renee.

  Tom looked around at the terrain. It was horribly flat for the most part, and the only cover came from some high-growing grass.

  My brother’s sheep would love this place, thought Tom and then focused his mind on what was most important right now, like trying not to get killed.

  “Well, once we reach that ridge,” Tom said, “then we can look down on what is happening without any engagements.”

  “Agreed,” Locke said, and the three companions moved on towards the battle.

  Alex was lying on the ground and woke up in a daze. He then glanced downwards and slowly began to feel the pain across his chest. “Oh, no,” he cried out.

  “It’s all right; it was a glancing blow,” Chris said as he was crouched beside him. “You’re alive, that’s the main thing.”

  “We will get some plants for the pain and burns, Alex,” said Ian, who had a worried look on his face. “You are very lucky, Alex; it only glanced your skin, not your internal organs.”

  “Internal organs,” said Chris, “that’s a very big word, Ian.”

  “Thank you,” Ian replied with a big grin.

  “It’s not that,” Alex replied to his two friends.

  Ian and Chris shared a look.

  “What is it, then?” asked Chris curiously.

  “The bastard burned my beard off,” he wailed as he reached for his non-existent luxurious beard.

  “Did he hit his head as well?” asked Ian.

  “Possibly,” replied Chris as they both lifted Alex onto his feet.

  “Did anybody else survive?” asked Alex as he winced in pain at the burns across his chest.

  “No, I don’t think so,” replied Chris.

  “I only saw Will; he was running very fast,” said Ian. “I don’t think he will stop running, though.”

  “Was he scared?” asked Chris.

  “His bladder said so,” replied Ian.

  “What about Sam?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t know, Alex,” Ian replied sadly.

  Alex began to feel the combined pain of both the physical and mental parts of his being.

  “We will—.” Alex began to say, then passed out onto the grass.

  “We will what?” asked Ian, confused.

  “We will stay here and tend his wounds and wait for Sam,” said Chris. “That is what we will do.”

  And Chris hoped that his childhood friend would survive this day.

  “Bloody hell,” Renee said in shock.

  All three of them were lying down on a slight rise in the land and were looking down at a small plantation of trees. Within these trees, ten or so men were being killed by a short man or woman in a silver suit, who was spraying them with a bright form of light.

  “In the ancient times, people would have believed that person to be a god,” said Locke, who watched as a young man was thrown back against a tree.

  Tom and Renee looked over at him with scared faces.

  “He’s not,” Locke replied. “He just has some technology that we don’t possess.”

  Tom and Renee looked relieved at that. Superstition had infected them just for a moment.

  “What do we do?” asked Renee as she watched another man screaming in agony, then sent to his death by another bolt of lightning.

  Tom watched as one of the men managed to fire an arrow at the Lightning Lord. In his panic, he missed and paid with his life.

  “I’m not sure, Renee,” Locke replied “I think we need to—”

  Locke never finished the sentence as the ground in front of them erupted and threw all three of them backwards.

  Tom was on the left and didn’t take the brunt of the attack, so he managed to shakily struggle to his feet.

  Renee was to the right, and she was now on her knees. She seemed to be dazed and unhurt, which meant Locke was—

  “Tom!” Renee screamed. “I think he is dead.” She was kneeling over Locke, pressing her hands against his chest.

  Tom looked down at the prone body. He didn’t seem to be moving at all. “Heart … pump,” he muttered, then looked down towards the silver-suited bastard.

  Whoever he or she was, they were now looking back at Tom and his friends and were shouting and laughing.

  The blood seemed to thunder through Tom’s face; he felt his lips curl back hard against his skull, and before he knew what he was doing, he ripped out his katana sword and charged down the slope, screaming.

  “Tom. No!” Renee yelled.

  Sam leant against a tree and tried to focus on his surroundings. His right arm was completely burned. The pain was excruciating, and the embarrassment and shame devastating. He looked to his left and saw the wide, dead eyes of his friend Jeremiah. None of his other companions were moving; they all looked dead too.

  He killed us all, he thought in grief. The idiot Rodent just walked into his trap and treated them like they were children. And he had laughed as his friends died; the bastard just laughed and laughed.

  Sam heard a loud scream to his right and saw Rodent pointing and laughing at a young man who was running towards him. The man had a green jacket on, which meant som
ething to him, but he was in too much pain to remember what right now. But one thing he was aware of was that man had a sword and was going to try to kill Rodent.

  “Every little bit helps,” he muttered, and through the anger and shame of this defeat, he managed to stand up. He reached over his shoulder and unslung his bow.

  “I’m sorry, Jeremiah,” he said quietly. “I should have listened to you.” He aimed an arrow towards Rodent’s back.

  “Fuck you, Rodent,” he said in a tight voice and used all of his remaining strength to defy the screaming pain in his right arm and let fly an arrow from a distance of maybe fifty metres. He passed out before he saw if he was accurate or not.

  “Fucking hell.” Rodent laughed and laughed. “Those dumb fucks just flew through the air,” he said breathlessly. “I am invincible!” he shouted as he watched two of the green-jacketed strangers stand over their dead comrade. “Nobody can stop me. Nobody!” he screamed to the world. “You all shunned me. You all said I wasn’t as good as my brother. Well, fuck the lot of you.” He began to laugh again.

  Rodent had walked into their supposed trap in the trees and blasted every one of them. They had been hiding, but he could see them. Even the snare traps showed up in his vision. He wasn’t sure why, maybe because they were unnatural in this environment. After killing his father’s men, he noticed three humans lying down on a small rise in the land. He could have kept walking, but he had to kill them. It was just too much fun.

  “Oh dear, that one looks angry,” he said to the world as he watched the big man running towards him. “He’s now running at me to avenge his friend. Perhaps I should run for cover, perhaps I should beg for mercy, or perhaps …” he said with an expression of utter cruelty, “perhaps I should just kill the fucker.”

  It was then that he felt an arrow enter his back, and as he screamed in agony, the power in his hands fizzled, spluttered, and went out. The angry man was now closing fast. He tried to power up his suit again, but it no longer worked. The angry man was getting nearer.

  He hit all of the buttons in desperation, the lightning, the sinkhole maker, the vision enhancer. It was all dead. And so was he.

  “Mercy!” he cried to the huge man.

  “No,” the huge man growled as he reached him and swept his sword from Rodent’s lower left hip to the top of his right shoulder.

  As his entrails crept out of his body, he noticed that the huge man was only a youngster.

  “Just a kid,” Rod said quietly as he died.

  Tom looked over at the small plantation of trees and wondered who had sent that arrow. “Thank you,” he called out to whoever had saved his life and went running back towards his friends.

  Renee was bending over Locke, and Tom almost sagged with relief that his eyes were now open and he was breathing.

  “Where did you go?” Renee spat at him as she wrapped a bandage from her medical kit around Locke’s head.

  “I went to kill him,” Tom replied, confused at her anger.

  “We should have carried Locke and gone that way,” she said angrily as she pointed back to their horses.

  Tom noticed that there were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said to her.

  She grunted at him and went back to tending Locke’s wounds, which were a collection of bruises and severe burns.

  “Did you get him?” Locke asked. He looked to be having great difficulties breathing, and his face was very pale.

  “Yes, but only because one of the survivors put an arrow in his back,” he replied.

  “That was a stupid thing to do,” Locke said quietly. “You have to think … before you act, Tom. What would your … aunt say if I told her you were killed? What would your … mother do?”

  Tom looked down at his feet in shame. He had lost his temper completely and charged at an enemy with far superior weaponry. Where did this temper come from? He took after his father he was told, and he knew his father never had a temper.

  “We better take him somewhere where he can rest,” Renee said as Tom picked up his hat, which had fallen off his head during the explosion.

  “I know a good place,” he replied.

  “Where?” Renee replied.

  “The Universe always provides,” he said.

  Renee looked confused for a moment, then realised what he meant and nodded. “As good as any,” she replied.

  Tom and Renee then helped walk Locke to his horse, and after a bit of difficulty, he somehow managed to stay in his saddle.

  Tom had also come to a decision as he helped Locke to his horse.

  “I’m going to head on,” Tom said as Renee looked back at him in shock. “I need to find out who saved my life,” he continued, “and we still need to see this tower.”

  Locke looked at Tom for a long moment. “The hat … weighs heavy on you,” Locke said.

  Tom wondered what he meant and then remembered he was wearing his grandfather’s hat. “No, this is not about me being a hero,” he replied. “This is about finishing our mission and finding out about the tower. You can rest, and Renee can look after you. I need to continue north to be useful. That and only that, Locke,” he finished.

  He expected Locke to give him an order to stay with them, but he just nodded his head. “Be careful, then,” was all he said.

  “Will do, Locke,” he replied with a relieved nod. “Look after him, Slinker,” he said to Renee, and to his relief, she smiled back at him.

  Tom mounted Pips and headed back towards the plantation, and Renee and Locke headed slowly back towards Bong and Frizel.

  “Are you sure we should let him go on his own?” asked Renee with a worried frown for her friend.

  “Rangers often … travel on their own,” Locke replied quietly, with one hand pressing on his chest.

  Renee thought he might have broken his ribs. That took a lot of healing she had heard.

  “The mayor will be upset with you at letting her nephew go on his own like that,” she said.

  “He is a grown man now. Danger comes … with the territory of being a ranger, and … despite having a bad temper when provoked … he is a smart lad. Anyway, the mayor has other … things on her mind right now,” Locke finished and tried to laugh but reached for his chest instead.

  Broken ribs it is, then, Renee thought, and what other things did he mean?

  “I don’t think I can sit there for a few weeks talking about the Universe,” Renee said.

  Locke smiled. “No, I don’t … expect you to.”

  Renee looked confused, so Locke continued. “I want you to go … to Hobart and tell the mayor what we saw today. The Lightning Lord, the lightbulb … everything.”

  “Okay, Locke. I can do that,” she replied.

  “And maybe on your way back … you can stop by and see how Marissa is doing,” he added.

  “Yes, I can definitely do that,” Renee replied with a big grin.

  Locke thought Marissa may get a few visits, but Daltrey would receive most of the attention, and he smiled at the thought of her being so happy.

  Renee, on the other hand, was so pleased about seeing Daltrey that she didn’t notice the small amount of blood that was trickling from the side of Locke’s mouth.

  Sam had regained consciousness for only a minute or so, and as he leant against a tree, he watched a huge man with a big black hat moving amongst his dead comrades. At first he thought the man was there to pillage from the dead, but he seemed to be checking for a pulse and when he found none, he placed the dead men’s hands across their chest.

  “You better check my pulse as well,” Sam said. “But I think I may already be dead.”

  The man looked across at him and smiled. Sam was surprised that he appeared to be a lot younger than expected.

  “I already did,” he said. “I was just waiting for you to wake up.”

  “So you can kill me,” Sam said.

  “So I can thank you,” he replied.

  Thank me? Why would he thank me? Sam then looked at his green
jacket, his sword, and remembered his mad charge. He remembered Rodent and his insane laugh.

  “You got him,” Sam said with a smile. Or the best smile he could give due to the immense pain he was in.

  “Thanks to you,” the large man replied with a nod of gratitude.

  Sam gave a huge sigh of relief, then remembered his dead friends, dead by his own hands as much as Rodent’s. He had failed them, and he had failed himself.

  “My name is Tom Dayton,” the big man said.

  “Sam Follett,” he replied quietly.

  Tom looked at Sam’s clothing, or lack of, and Sam looked at Tom’s green jacket.

  “I have heard of you,” Sam said.

  “Me?” replied Tom in surprise. “Maybe you mean my grandfather or my aunt.”

  “Not you personally,” Sam replied. “Just your green jackets.”

  Tom assessed the situation. Did he mean the rangers in general or what had happened at Marissa’s farm?

  “A man with an arrow in his back,” Sam continued, “said three people with green jackets killed eleven of his men.”

  “We did,” Tom replied.

  “Why?” He didn’t seem the type of man who enjoyed killing. Then again, the temper he had shown in attacking Rodent was almost as bad as Sam’s.

  “They cut a man’s throat and raped his daughter,” Tom said firmly. “I would like to be friends with you, Sam, I really would, but I will not sit by idly and watch such abominations being committed against men and women.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Sam said quietly. He hated men who murdered and raped innocent people as well. “They deserved what they got then,” he said.

  “They did,” Tom said in a strong voice.

  Such an interesting man, Sam thought, and he wants to be friends? And what is so interesting about his grandfather and aunt?

  “So what is with the green jackets?” he asked.

  “It’s what a Southern Ranger wears,” Tom replied as he looked back at Sam’s bare chest and colouring. “What is with the war paint and lack of clothing?” he asked.