by Pat Cunningham, Savanna Kougar, Rebecca Gillan, Solara Gordon, Serena Shay
“I see what you mean, Brother Xuon. The beast has certain advantageous capabilities.”
“With a few tweaks we would dominate not only sections of Earth, but there are other planet worlds we could trample… hehe… into obedient slaves.”
“My thoughts exactly. Do you recall the primordial-stage planet we discovered three-point-five-eight years ago?”
“Yes. I understand. A perfect breeding ground for a pair of weaponized mammoths. The other mutated canine beast riding astride, are his genes useful to us?”
“Perhaps, more than I first realized. He is controlling our future weapon. I will program the retrieval probe to gather both samples.”
****
Knowing he didn’t need any more information than what he’d just heard, Blade Runner rapidly punched in his own program to intercept the collection probe, and to take evasive action. No doubt, the Crugriox would attempt to laser-burn the hide off him and his craft, about one-tenth the size of their atmospheric cruiser.
Blade Runner grinned, his own rogue nature coming alive. He lived for these David-Goliath contests, as some humans called them. On screen, he watched the probe, tiny as a sliver of glass, deploy.
He darted out of the resonance field, diving his craft like a bat out of hell, as the saying went. Given timing was crucial, Blade Runner flashed toward the now popularly named Hellephant, whose rampage down the highway was leaving potholes that could eat a small car.
Within a split second, the Crugriox detected his presence. Invisible to the human eye, beams that would make him invisible sliced through the air toward his craft.
“Yahoo and screw you, wabbit killers.” With the skilled swift precision that made him excellent with a rapier, Blade Runner dashed through the pelting rays. “This is one rabbit you won’t fry up for dinner.”
Not that the Crugriox dined on small mammals, their diet being mostly crustaceans. That hardly mattered in the heat of battle, in gaining his prizeâ��the probe now aiming for the franken-mammoth’s monstrous butt like a hypodermic needle equipped with a nano jet pack.
Blade Runner avoided another blast from the Crugriox ship, this one meant to destabilize his power source and disrupt his craft’s flight path. Deploying his own catcher beam as he called it, once the hyperspeed calculations completed, Blade Runner quickly lessened his speed.
In a sweeping arc, he flew about half a mile above the Hellephant and its malformed werewolf rider, who appeared to be clutching some very unlucky woman beneath a hairy brute arm. “Heroes desperately needed,” he muttered, hoping Dante and crew were on the case. His aerial rabbit butt was about to be roasted, if the Crugriox had their way.
“Gotcha!” Blade Runner triumphed seconds later. With the gene-collecting probe in containment, he flipped his craft upside down, his magnetic boots holding him in position.
On screen, Blade Runner watched the unsuspecting group gathered below never gaze skyward, except Dante, who gave him a brief salute from astride his ultra-tricked out Harley.
An onslaught of microwaving beams struck the bottom of his craft, as expected. Unexpected, the interior steam-heated quick, even though it was protected by a sheet of specialized foil.
“Defcon one, scramble, scramble,” Blade Runner repeated the military mantra, thinking fast. “Time to play tilt-a-whirl.”
To save himself and fight another day, he tapped the large gold button. Instantly, the craft spun, righted itself, then zoomed across the sky while wobbling madly.
“Riding the whirlwind.” Blade Runner shouted. “Cook me now, shrimp breaths.” Even as his head dizzied, and his eyes took turns crossing and uncrossing, Blade Runner pumped his fist.
Minutes passed one click at a time. Then, as if a giant hand reached down, his craft stopped its spin and ascended straight up. The loud buzz signaled Blade Runner he was out of range, or the Crugriox halted their pursuit. A swift glance at the instrument panel, once his gaze steadied enough, had Blade Runner hopping up and down with glee.
His hand flew over the weapons’ panel preparing the strike. One sizzle and bang to the power unit of the Crugriox’s ship, and they’d be the prey. Blade Runner collected every last ounce of energy from the craft’s systems that wouldn’t cause him to fall unceremoniously out of the sky.
“Butt-whipping about to take place.” Stealthily, Blade Runner positioned himself above the cruiser, now concealed by a large cumulus cloud. Likely, the Crugriox waited for another chance to steal the lab-brewed monster’s gene material. Enough to risk an attack.
“Pow, pow…” Blade Runner crooned, and palmed the shoot-to-destroy button. He pushed.
Streaks of red pulsed through the cloud. “Wow! Target is attained…target is attained,” Blade Runner celebrated. On screen, he watched the neon stream blast the exterior of the cruiser, then penetrate the power unit.
Wise enough not to push his luck, or his craft, Blade Runner unlocked. Zipping high into the sky, he returned to the mountaintop, and hovered. Just in case…
Chapter Thirty-nine:
Go Fish
By Pat Cunningham
Following the Hellephant’s progress wasn’t a problem. The once-human creature fed as it went, ripping branches from trees and huge swaths of grass from any meadow it passed. This resulted in large piles of natural “breadcrumbs” left in its wake. Deuce, behind the wheel, swerved around one and rolled up his window. “He does like grass,” he remarked. He glanced over at Ewan. “You sure you wouldn’t rather have grabbed a gun?”
“This’ll work.” Ewan was fitting his weapon togetherâ��no easy task, as its larger piece was ten feet long and stuck out the passenger-side window. It made stringing the line somewhat difficult. “It’ll get me on top of him. After that I can wing it.”
“I know you’re a coyote and all, but â�¦ a fishing rod?”
“Surf rod,” Ewan corrected. “I grew up using these, back in New Jersey. You can reel in a two-hundred-pound marlin or a shark with one of these babies. Hey, if they’d had a grappling hook I’d have taken it. It’s all about the improv. Any word from Dante?”
“Last time I talked to him, he was making a stand at Schitt Creek. He’ll hold off as long as he can, so you can get Maureen. That means weâ��there he is!”
Ewan shot a look out the windshield. The broad, brownish-blond line of the mammoth’s back towered above the treeline. Deuce floored it.
The car shot around a curve, right into a pile of poop. The engine ground and shut off.
Deuce worked the windshield wipers, and got only a field of streaky brown. “Dante’s gonna have a goat,” he said.
Ewan, rod in hand, was already climbing out of the car. If anything, Freddiephant had picked up speed. Maybe whatever human memory was left to him recognized the road to Talbot’s Peak. He’d come here to kill shifters, and now he had enough natural power to do some serious damage. No wonder he was eager.
“Get his attention,” he ordered Deuce. “Stall him. Then run and catch up with Dante. I’ll take it from there.”
“Yessir, boss.” Deuce dumped his clothes and shifted. His gray wolf form raced after the motoring Hellephant.
Ewan made a couple test casts to get the feel of the rod and make sure all the parts were working properly. If he could pull this off, what a tale he and Maureen would have to tell their grandkids. “Lord of the Rings,” he murmured, “meet Jaws.” He dashed up the road.
****
Deuce did his bit, as well as he was able without getting tromped. He didn’t exactly stop the beast, but he slowed it enough for Ewan to catch up. Then he whirled and ducked into the safety of the forest lining the highway. The Hellephant bellowed its rage. It seemed unaware of the second peril creeping up behind it.
Here goes nothing, Ewan thought, and cast.
The heavy hook snagged in Freddiephant’s shaggy coat, high up on its side. Before Ewan could give it a test tug the Hellephant tugged first, with a long stride back on its course. Ewan was yanked off his feet. He s
tumble-ran-got-dragged several feet before he could reel himself up. The braided line could hold several hundred pounds of fighting fish; it should be able to handle his one-eighty long enough for him to grab a handhold of mammoth pelt. It was the hook that scared him. If it tore loose�
The hook held. Ewan had one iffy moment when a treetrunk leg swung back at him. He kicked off it and upward and landed near Freddiephant’s underbelly. By the time the hook finally ripped free Ewan was scrambling hand-over-hand up the mammoth’s side. He reached the top, reeled in his line, and took a look around.
The first thing he saw was Maureen. She was clutched beneath the arm of a seven-foot mutant werewolf. The werewolf held onto the swaying pachyderm with its foot-claws and steered it by tugs on its ears. It didn’t appear aware of Ewan’s arrival. Maureen spotted him and clapped her hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t cry out and betray him.
Something must have, though, because the werewolf suddenly turned. Its muzzle wrinkled back from a set of teeth that put a shark’s to shame. It dumped Maureen on the mammoth’s head and charged.
Ewan swung the pole. The werewolf swatted it aside. Three feet of pole snapped off and tumbled to the ground, trailing line. Ewan dodged the werewolf’s lunge and reversed the pole in his hands. He brought the heavy grip end up between the werewolf’s legs. The big reel landed exactly where he aimed it.
Well, howzabout that. Mutant werewolves could yodel.
The beast crumpled, clutching at its groin. Its feet lost their grip on the Hellephant’s pelt. The werewolf slipped and fell over the side.
Ewan darted along the mammoth’s spine and peered down at its flank. No clinging mutant werewolf. If Mutie had hit the ground and survived, he wouldn’t be in any shape to tag along.
Then Ewan’s arms were full of hot, frightened woman. A she-wolf’s hiked scent hit his nose and a tongue crammed into his mouth. Ewan crushed his mate against him and kissed her hard while maintaining both their balances on the back of the swaying mammoth. No easy feat, but coyotes are nothing if not adaptable.
At last he could see her tits. They were everything he’d dreamed they’d be.
Finally they broke apart. Ewan grinned down at her. “You are one tough gal to land a date with.”
“You’re deranged.” Her laugh had only a little hysteria in it. Commendable, given the circumstances. “That wolf thingâ��he used to be Pete. Thisâ��this is Atcheson. Pete told me. They’re going to destroy Talbot’s Peak.”
“He’s got a long way to go and quite a few tough characters to get through before that happens. Be nice if we could stop him. You know how to drive this thing?”
She shook her head. “Pete was controlling him, but it was getting harder. I could tell. Atcheson always was a contrary basâ��”
The mammoth lurched. Both Ewan and Maureen fell atop its spine. Ewan dumped the rod and grabbed Maureen in one hand and a hunk of thick hair in the other. Freddiephant, it seemed, had finally realized there was no one at the wheel.
Ewan tried to get up. The mammoth’s trunk curled back and quested about for a target. Maureen yanked him back down right before the trunk smacked him. The mammoth trumpeted.
“New plan,” Ewan said. “Here’s where we get off. Wrap your arms around my neck and hang on.”
Maureen clamped her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso. Just in time. Freddiephant suddenly reared up. His back rose at a steep vertical angle. Ewan slid the length of the mammoth’s spine. He managed to snag hold of its lupine tail. They swung there while Ewan scanned the ground for a spot less hard and rocky than the rest.
There. He swung out and let go. They landed dead center in the chosen spot and sank. It wasn’t ground. It was soft and grainy and filled with bits of grass and leaves and stank like a son of a hound. Maureen shook clods of it off her hands and wiped smears of it off her glasses. “Shit!”
“Pretty much,” Ewan said. “Beats broken bones, though not by much. You okay?”
“I will be, after a week-long shower.” She leaned through the crap cushion to press against him. They held each other close. Freddie was already nearly a mile up the road, still stubbornly on course for Talbot’s Peak.
“Ewan?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Are you going to take your hand off my boob?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“You damn well better not.” She grabbed him by his hair and crushed her mouth to his.
Chapter Forty:
Not My Fault � This Time �
By Rebecca Gillan
The tick-tock of the grandfather clock echoed through the office, underscoring just how quiet it was. Marissa fought the urge to squirm under Gil’s penetrating gaze. For a herbie, he was remarkably good at delivering a predator’s stare. She managed not to fidget but she couldn’t stop herself from mentally reviewing everything she’d said or done, every spell she’d cast and every curse she’d muttered and every order she’d filled, over the last month. She was sure she had done nothing to earn being called on the carpet. This time.
This wasn’t the first time the mayor of Talbot’s Peak had summoned her for a reckoning. The last time, it was because she’d accidentally cursed every ass-wipe in town, turning them into horses asses. That one had affected even some local humans. But she’d earned that butt-chewing.
“Did you need something?” she finally asked. It was a mistake, she knew. Gil’s MO was to stare people down until they spoke first, usually so unnerved that they accidentally confessed. She wasn’t overtly worried; she’d done nothing wrong this time. Not that she knew of, anyway.
“Can you tell me why I knew nothing of the mad scientist parked right outside of town, conducting foul experiments on people?” Gil said, sounding quite casual for a Jersy native. Marissa bit back her knee jerk response. No, sir, Mr. Mayor, sir. Not my job to do your job. She shook her head instead. “And you have no idea why I’d want to know there was a madman conducting magicalâ��”
“It wasn’t magic,” she cut in quickly. Now she knew what was up. Morlaxian had set up shop right under the shape shifters’ noses and had turned the mini put-put golf place into his private mutant creature lab.
“Not magic, you say,” he said, his eyes narrowing with disbelief. Marissa ignored the insinuation that she’d somehow been responsible.
“Nope,” she confirmed. “Morlaxion is a mad scientist, not a mad warlock. He used DNA to conduct his experiments, which is based in science, not magic.”
“Surely there was some…unusual taint to the local earth magic because of all the despoiling of natural life.”
“Nope,” Marissa said decisively. “The earth spirit of the valley doesn’t consider Morlaxion’s perversions to be abominations, so she didn’t signal any distress that a practitioner would hear. To be honest, TP kind of likes some of his twisted children.”
“What? Why? How?” He exclaimed. Marissa shrugged.
“He didn’t have to use magic to force the change. He did it strictly using natural, if unethical, processes. Earth spirits done give a damn about human morality, only environmental balance. There’s a lot of positive energy here, so he’d have to do something really bad to catch her attention,” Marissa said quietly.
“Ah,” Gil said as he nodded his head to indicate his understanding. “What you’re sayingâ��or rather not sayingâ��is that he was good with the land and wasn’t putting anything too gruesome so the spirit just didn’t care what he was up to.”
Marissa nodded once. “The hellephant is pretty gruesome by our standards, but TP just was more interesting animals being introduced to its ecosystem. No magic use equals nothing for witches like me to detect.”
Not my fault at all, she thought darkly. This time, anyway�
Chapter Forty-one:
The Solution in a Jif
By Pat Cunningham
Ewan and Maureen helped each other out of the mammoth poo and wiped each other off as well as
they could. This meant shedding what remained of their clothes. Ewan didn’t mind public nudity, especially in front of a woman. Especially since he could now happily stare at Maureen’s sweet little tits. They made his mouth water, in spite of the stains and the pungent aroma permeating the air. Yep, true love for sure.
Maureen clearly wasn’t as comfortable with nakedness as a shifter, and tried to distract herself by focusing on the matter at hand. “Atcheson’s still headed for Talbot’s Peak. He’ll stomp it to bits just for the heck of it. He’s not just an a-hole, he’s a psycho a-hole. Getting changed into a giant mutant mammoth didn’t do him any favors.”
Much as Ewan would have enjoyed a romp in the woods with his favorite naked lady, even he had to concede now was not the best time. “We should join up with Dante. He’s set up a defense line at the creek. If Dumbo makes it past them there’ll be no stopping him. Hope Dante’s rustled up some weapons. Like a dragon, maybe.”
“You have dragons?”
“Just the one that I know of. We’re a pretty open town.”
Maureen hugged her arms over her breasts, and Ewan muttered swears. “Pity they don’t have some peanuts. That’d stop him for sure.”
“Peanuts for the elephant? Well, if he stops to eat ‘emâ��”
“No, not that. He has an allergy. A really bad one. Just the smell of peanuts gives him a rash. If he swallowed some, jeepers, anything could happen.”
“Hold up there. You’re serious. Are you sure about this?”
Maureen made a sour face. “I was the group girl, duh. Guess who had to do all the cooking and grocery shopping? Atcheson was really specific about what he wouldn’t eat. Every time Ted had a candy bar Atcheson would pitch a fit. Especially Reese’s. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”
“So if we got him to swallow a Snickers he’d keel over?”
“Probably. He’s still mostly Atcheson genetically. If the allergy carried overâ��”
“We can stop him in his tracks.” It was a wild, off-the-wall idea, just the kind that appealed to coyotes. “I need to shift for a minute,” he told her. “Try not to scream.”