It caught the creature by surprise and it brought up its hand to shield its eyes. Dillon slung himself at it and wrapped his arms and legs around it. They began to plummet into the volcano.
The creature hit Dillon so hard it gave him double vision. He blocked the next blow and came up with a knee into the creature’s mouth, breaking off several teeth. The creature brought him near and bit into his shoulder, tearing away parts of the suit and some flesh with it. Dillon screamed.
He slammed his elbow over and over and over into the creature’s mouth, breaking off teeth, bloodying its tongue. They were maybe a couple of hundred feet above the lip of the volcano now. Dillon tried to pull away but the creature kept him in a bear hug.
Dillon pushed down on its arms, trying to loosen its grip as they rushed toward the molten rock. The grip was so tight it wouldn’t budge…he was going to fall into the volcano with him.
Dillon leaned back, feeling the crushing pressure of the creature’s grasp, and slammed both fists into the sides of its head. He did this until the creature let go. They were inside the volcano, the intense heat searing his flesh and cooking him inside the suit. Dillon put both his feet on the creature’s chest, and using him as a springboard, flung himself up and out of the volcano as the opposite force from his push sent the creature into the lava with a final, pain-filled roar.
Dillon flew out of the volcano and onto his back, rolling down the side of the volcano until he hit a large boulder and stopped, smoke billowing out of the suit. He tried to sit up, his vision spinning, his back and hips feeling like they’d been broken, but he couldn’t do it.
He blacked out and lay still.
31
Dillon woke to the sound of sirens. He forced himself up, pain in every point of his body. He was limping off the volcano when the sirens zipped past him, none of them seeing his black suit in the night. He stumbled down as far as he could go before having to rest, and then lifted himself into the air as he slowly drifted home.
Dillon could see the lights of the yacht a few thousand feet from shore. He drifted down, Jaime and her family on the deck, and landed next to her.
“Dillon?”
The pain overwhelmed him, and he felt vomit rising in his throat. He disengaged the suit and slipped out, collapsing onto the floor, vomit spewing from his mouth. She ran to him and put her arms around him.
He looked up to her parents. “You must be Mom and Dad. I’m Dillon. Nice to meet you. Could you do me a favor and take me to a hospital now please?”
She grinned and kissed his forehead.
Dillon came out of the hospital in crutches. The nurse helped him most of the way as they’d given him Percocet and he was slurring his words a little. They came outside and he leaned against a pillar.
“You have anyone meeting you here?” she said.
“No, I don’t have anyone. Could you just call a cab for me please?”
“That’s not necessary.”
He looked over and saw Jaime waiting for him next to her car. She walked over and put her arms around his waist and kissed him.
“Need a ride?”
“I don’t really take rides with strange women.”
“You’re the one with an alien suit.”
“It’s not alien. And it just enhances my normally handsome features.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, so you know, you better keep a close eye on me unless you want other women hitting on the Onyx.”
“The Onyx? Really? You’ve given yourself a name?”
“Yeah, Black Onyx. I was thinking Blue Onyx but then I thought that sounded like a cocktail.”
She smiled. “How about ass-head? I like that.”
“Hmm. I think that’s taken. Wasn’t that Dick Cheney’s nickname?”
She kissed him again. “Shut up and get in the car.”
He watched as she walked over and opened the door. “Yes ma’am.”
EPILOGUE
Dillon sprinted through the dense thicket of trees. He jumped over the first projectile and ducked under the other one as he spun on a branch and kicked off the tree, running in the opposite direction.
He dashed through the vegetation as another projectile was thrown at him and he cartwheeled out of the way; a move he had been working on in the gymnastics classes he had been taking. He struck another projectile, knocking it into the ground. Something he’d picked up in the Jeet Kune Do classes he had been studying.
He spun around and sprinted out of the jungle and into an open grass clearing. Behind him the jungle rustled…as five young boys ran out with plastic spears in their hands. They chased him over to the picnic table where Jaime and one of the orphanage’s counselors were setting up lunch.
“Boys,” Jaime said, “leave Dillon alone. He’s thirty now. He’s an old man.”
“Don’t listen to her little men. She’s jealous of my mojo.”
“All right, everyone go wash your hands. Lunch is almost ready.”
The boys ran into the building and Dillon watched them go. He glanced up to the name above the entrance: THE JAMES MENTZER CHILDREN’S HOME.
The home had been started with a half a million dollar donation and was run as a non-profit with Dillon on the board and Jaime as the executive director. It currently housed twenty-four boys and thirty-six girls from all over the Hawaiian islands who had been orphaned or the state had deemed the parents unfit.
Each child was given their own room, something unheard of in children’s homes.
Jaime walked up and kissed him, putting her arms around his neck. “Are you happy?”
“For a long time, I don’t think I knew what that meant.”
“Do you now?”
“Yeah, I do.” He exhaled. “I wish James could have seen this.”
She kissed him again. “Who says he hasn’t?”
He smiled and hugged her tight as the children ran back out for lunch.
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BY VICTOR METHOS
Thrillers
Diary of an Assassin
Black Sky (A Mystery-Thriller)
Plague (A Medical Thriller)
Murder Corporation (A Crime Thriller)
Superhero (An Action Thriller)
Jon Stanton Thrillers
The White Angel Murder
Walk in Darkness
Sin City Homicide
Arsonist
The Porn Star Murders
Creature-Feature Novels
The Extinct
Sea Creature
Paranormal Thrillers
Dracula (A Modern Telling)
Savage: A Novel
Science Fiction
Clone Hunter
Star Dreamer: The Early Science Fiction of Victor Methos
Black Onyx (A Superhero Thriller)
Humor
Welcome to Hell, Earl
Philosophical Fiction
Existentialism and Death on a Paris Afternoon
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Copyright 2013 Victor Methos
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Please note that this is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All events in this work are purely from the imagination of the author and are not intended to signify, represent, or reenact any event in actual fact.
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