Gauntlet

by Matthew C. Gill

  It was her feet and hips that betrayed her though. Always is something, and what they told him was; she was itching to rush him. Her heels rocked rhythmically up and down as she kept shifting her stance. A slight cock to her waist that favored her left gave him the hinted clue she might lead off with that particular side. And her impulsive fidgeting was growing more frantic by the second, he was about to run out of time to think about his options.

  Acting on his own instincts, the sound of drawn steel sung on the air as he drew forth weapons of his own. His conscience counseled him about the inherent danger in a misplaced shot in a room full of combustible components. Quickly though, Marshall told the part of his mind that still demanded for time to think to kindly silence itself. In a flash he found a surprisingly nimble foe flying at him with a blurring barrage of blows aimed his way.

  While one sinister strike swung for his skull, its sibling angled its way towards his ribs. Only raw reflex resisted both as they rang against the robust backside of his blades. It was close-range chaos as the two moved back and forth in a deadly dance of exchanged attacks. Both combatants struggled against the other looking for some measure of edge or exploitable opening. And as they did a clanging chorus of metallic melody sang on the air like a steel storm.

  When it came, Marshall made full use of the opportunity. The brutal belle brought both her clubs crashing down simultaneously seeking their way to shatter his shoulders. In a desperate thrust, Marshall drove his Claw Breakers straight up and inside to parry the pair. As they grated against the potential producers of pain he jerked up with his thrown momentum and brought his knee into range, riding it right into her soft middle.

  The maverick maneuver managed to produce a groan as Boom-Boom crumpled backwards in reluctant retreat. He had hurt her; somehow this man had actually caused her pain. It was simply unacceptable to Boom-Boom, nobody had ever done that and she wasn’t about to allow him another chance to do so again. Or be around to speak of the matter.

  “Alright, hero, while I can’t say it’s been a blast – it sure is about to be!” With a ragged gasp she produced a small silver tab from her pocket, her thumb wavering just above its lone button. “Time to say your goodbyes,” Boom-Boom spat as a sadistic grin spread over her face. “Because to the people here in Redemption you are about to be nothing but just another nameless face for them to forget who was only passing through.”

  Episode 18 – Freeze You Fire Bombing Freak

  Deputy Rook rose from his desk and discovered his thoughts rushing away from him like a river. The words Marshall had spoke to him still crashed against his conscience, reminding him as they did of how right he had been. His hands had never truly been tied, not literally in any case. Instead he had only ever allowed himself to blindly follow in the Sheriff’s footsteps; to meekly obey orders. Arbiter had made a mockery of what the law was supposed to stand for, and the whole while Rook had watched him do it. He had known things were a far cry from right, but never had taken a stand to change it.

  Well, he decided, it was high time that those days were over. Arbiter could fall down a mine shaft for all he cared; he was done turning a blind eye to his duty as the town’s deputy. Rook reached over to the wall, lifting an old black plastic handle hanging from a u-shaped piece of metal and pressed it to his ear. It might not have been as fancy as any of the more modern commlinks in use, but it still worked well enough to place a call.

  The auto-dialer never had worked on the thing, so Rook manually punched in the number for the General Good and waited. “He isn’t here, Rook,” Grandma Grael answered immediately, before Rook could even register if he had heard a single ring. Stunned by her statement, and the implication that she had expected his call, Rook stumbled for a response. “Someone is holed up over at Sundown Sanctuary and making threats. He’s already headed that way to try and see if he might defuse the situation but I think sparks are going to fly either way. You best get over there and quit hiding under Pierce’s coat-tail,” Grandma Grael advised.

  Unable to argue, Rook merely replied with a rushed ‘ye ma’am,’ and closed the call. “How did she,” he began to ask himself before deciding it was best to focus on more important things and pushed the question aside. With a conscious effort he reached inside and quieted his mind, calling up a slumbering reserve of power he rarely used. It was the birthright of his race, a harmonious bond between the mind and the soul; it fed them, nourished them. And while he had never refined the gifts he had been taught as a child, he still found them waiting for him.

  As he touched on the small measure of psionic power, he concentrated on his immediate need for haste and shaped it with his desire. It was a simple enough task for him, or should be, but he was long out of practice. He had only ever been taught how to shape the power for little things; to replenish him like a night’s rest might, to sustain him for a period without food or water or to even lessen pain to a degree. Quickening his step wasn’t all too difficult but as he marked his feet feeling lighter he reminded himself that it might be prudent to practice a little more often.

  Rook raced out the door as swiftly as his sprinting feet could carry him and rushed his way towards Sundown Sanctuary. Luckily it wasn’t an overly long run as he covered the handful of streets between it and the Sheriff’s office quickly. Even with calling on his wellspring of willpower, Rook found his stamina almost spent as he slowed and reminded himself to slow his breathing. He was definitely going to have to spend a little more time on staying in shape as well.

  Cautiously he drew his sidearm and approached the doorway to investigate the situation. The Mayor’s assistant stood at one end of the lobby, holding a small device of some kind; while Marshall was a few steps away wielding a pair of blades. Packages had been placed about the room and were visibly connected by series of wires adding credence to the claim the building was rigged to blow.

  “Nobody move!” Rook commanded as he trained his gun between the two. “Aren’t you supposed to tell us to freeze or something,” Marshall quipped back. But then the joke gave him an idea. “That’s it,” he thought to himself suddenly and grabbed a grenade from his pack.

  “Freeze you fire bombing freak,” Marshall roared as he seized on the distraction provided by Deputy Rook’s appearance. He triggered the device with a quick press of his thumb and hurled it at the lethal lady. With her attention turned towards Rook, Boom-Boom didn’t have time to react as the grenade landed at her feet. It exploded in a cascade of compressed liquid nitrogen turning the very air about her into a mist of blue-white. In a matter of seconds a prison of ice had formed to cover her, coating her in a cold that refused to allow her to move.

  “Would you look at that? She actually listened to me,” Marshall remarked as he regarded his handiwork. “I do suppose it is for the best that I removed that secondary charge from the grenade though. Otherwise we’d be looking at a shattered secretary.” Rook kept his gun aimed at the immobile assistant as he approached for answers.

  “What do you mean,” he asked curiously. “Well,” Marshall explained as he gestured towards the ice-slick ground. “Those grenades were originally intended to clear a room – they quick freeze like that but a secondary charge is what makes them nasty. The secondary is what sends a swarm of metallic balls in every direction to shatter anything before it can thaw. Trust me; you don’t ever want to see what that kind of thing can do to somebody.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Rook admitted, a slight shudder visible. “I would rather not have seen that, thanks. So what do we do now, we still have all these bombs in place and she isn’t going to stay frozen forever I’d wager. You have a plan to handle this?”

  “Nope,” Marshall exclaimed before falling silent for a minute. When finally he spoke once more it was in the measured and level tones of someone trying to restrain others from panicking. “Just kind of making this up as I go, but don’t worry; we have the valiant Deputy of Redemption here to help handle this hazardous situation. I am sure as the only offi
cial representative acting on behalf of this fair town he has everything well in control. And since I am just a simple stranger in these parts I will have to defer to his professional opinion on the matter.

  Well – Deputy Rook; what is your assessment of this emergency?” Rook had been expecting some kind of brilliant solution or insight from this gun slinging hero. Instead, what he got was some witty banter and the passed reins of responsibility. “Cute, real cute Mr. Lawson,” Rook pointed out sarcastically.

  “Please tell me you at least have some idea as to how to defuse a bomb or how much time we have before little miss demolition here is going to find her fingers unfrozen enough to blast us all to oblivion.” As Rook glanced around him he started to take note of explosives placed carefully around doors and windows – clearly she had set traps that they might set off if they tried to gain access to the upper levels where the residents lived.

  “We are going to have to do something, Mister, and since you elected to play at hero then you are going to have to fill those shoes.” Marshall couldn’t resist a little grin despite himself as he listened to the Deputy, who only a short time before seemed so defeated and unsure of himself. Now he seemed downright aflame with conviction and dedicated to his duty.

  “Just trying to ease the tension,” Marshall said. “Not enough time to sort out how she’s wired this whole mess to blow, but we should have enough time before she starts to melt too much to clear a main door at least. The way I figure it, we’ll be lucky to disarm any more than that and still manage to get anyone out safely.”

  “And you have done this before, right,” Rook hesitantly asked as Marshall moved towards the biggest set of doors. “Yeah, sure,” he answered back over his shoulder confidently. “I know the basics; it isn’t the sort of thing you easily forget.” Rook prayed this was just another one of his attempts at being funny. Otherwise, they were in real trouble.

  Episode 19 – The Reaction of Redemption

  “You know, this does go a lot easier without an extra pair of eyes staring over your shoulder. There is enough to worry over without the added aggravation, and I don’t think either of us wants to accidentally set anything off.” Marshall could feel a bead of sweat as it trickled down from his temple to land on his collar. He was already feeling his frustration growing with every heartbeat. Was it a series or parallel circuit that you could interrupt by removing something from it? Why did he have to go and jinx himself by saying something? Marshall thrice cursed his big mouth under his breath and wiped at the growing moisture upon his brow.

  “Rook,” Marshall said as politely as he could manage, a slight edge present in his tone. “You could keep an eye on our frigid friend; make sure she hasn’t dazzled us by defrosting herself somehow. I really need to concentrate here.” The idea of accidentally choosing the wrong wire worried at him, he wanted nothing more than to simply rip every single one of those irritating things out all at once.

  Deputy Rook made some subtle sound of agreement before returning to examine their cold-clad captive. The makeshift prison of improvised ice still seemed to have her held solidly enough, but a quickening drip heralded that it was not promising to last much longer. “She appears to be thawing,” Rook relayed.

  “Well, looks like we are out of time for being careful,” Marshall told himself. He grabbed a handful of wires with either hand and mumbled to himself. “Here goes nothing,” he said and in a desperate jerk gave them a quick yank. The sudden sound of wires snapping brought Rook’s head spinning back around, but shock stole the words right out of his mouth. It took Marshall a split second at first, surrounded by silence, before he could remind himself to open his eyes and breathe – they were still there. “Come on, let’s get everybody out of here and fast!” Together the two of them rushed to throw open the door and begin the business of emptying everybody away from the emergency. All the while the remaining explosives were still ever present in their minds and more motivating than a driver’s whip.

  ♦♦♦

  By dawn the majority of Redemption’s residents had gathered together near the center of town, a common look of mixed confusion and fear present on their faces. Both Mayor Demure and Sheriff Arbiter stood poised on a small platform calling for quiet. “We all, no doubt, are aware by now of the unfortunate events that have happened,” Mayor Demure announced as the shuffling crowd grew silent.

  “No one can say that living out here on the edge isn’t without its dangers. Mines collapse, fires can take our homes, and even wild beasts have to be contended with from time to time.” Demure carried herself with a casual grace as she spoke, careful to convey an image of concern and authority. She hadn’t secured her seat behind the Mayor’s desk without perfecting the performance that went along with the public’s expectations of the persona.

  “But I think we can all agree that we have been doing fairly well all things considered for some time now. Redemption has managed to carve for itself and its citizens a relatively respectful place out here on the edge. We have learned to live with the occasional petty problems of bandits, and even managed to get by without the support of our so-called supportive government.

  However, a new issue has arisen that threatens our town. Sundown Sanctuary was burned to the grown last night and the whereabouts of my own secretary have yet to be discovered. According to the reports that we have been able to piece together; we have a vigilante on the loose who has taken it upon himself to interfere when the Sheriff should have been called. Now, we have a treasured landmark and part of our town’s history lost to us because of a drifter. Obviously, he must have thought he was helping somehow, but instead this ‘Gauntlet’ character’s actions directly resulted in a fiery explosion that could have spread to harm untold townsfolk.

  The Sheriff has even informed me that this reckless renegade has been confirmed to have engaged in gunfights on our streets. He has even gone so far as to gun down three individuals who as far as we know may have simply been involved in a vehicular accident at the bank. Can we honestly allow a man, a stranger to run about our town and violently take action as he pleases? Is not the job of maintaining law and order that of our Sheriff?”

  A growing murmur rippled through the gathered crowd of townsfolk as they began to consider the Mayor’s questions. For those who had witnessed this Gauntlet firsthand, he had seemed like someone honestly trying to help protect them. To others he sounded like another fever-brained fool who was only going to cause more trouble. As the conversations continued the volume of the puzzled public grew.

  “As the Sheriff of Redemption, I hereby call for a vote of its citizens on the grounds of public-safety,” Arbiter announced over the rising roar of debate. “We can either allow such outlaw justice to run wild through our town or we can declare here and now that it will not be tolerated and condemn anyone so engaged as an enemy of the law.”

  Once more the massed people of Redemption ceased their chatter. “I have sworn to keep the peace and I aim to do just that. So either way I will serve the will of the town. Which is it going to be? Do we allow this Gauntlet to keep doing as he pleases until he destroys more of Redemption, or do we brand him an outlaw and vigilante?”

  Solemnly Mayor Demure lowered her head and pursed her lips before she called for the vote herself. “All those agreed that such reckless actions are more harm than good for our beloved town, please raise your hand.” Slowly a majority of those gathered began to raise their hands. Some shakily at first, others hesitated as they looked around them. A lengthening measure of moments soon confirmed that there weren’t enough hands left lowered to challenge the issue. The people of Redemption had spoken, and they had declared this Gauntlet an enemy of the public.

  Marshall watched on as the people of Redemption condemned the one man who had dedicated himself to the cause of being their champion. Inside a part of him was pained by the turn of events. But as his eyes regarded the two figures at the heart of the gathered group his pain was paled by his determination. He wou
ld not rest until he removed both of them from office, and from town. They could blame him all they liked, but at least he knew the truth of who was a plague upon the town. And he would see it purged, no matter what.

  Episode 20 – Combine and Conquer

  “You know, you really have a knack for stepping into the biggest messes,” Marshall quietly told himself as he slipped back away from view. “Now you have two separate crews of criminals to deal with, both of the most prominent town officials appear to be dirty to boot and have just declared you a public enemy. Right about now would be a real great time to pull a rabbit out of your hat – if you had any tricks left that is.”

  Marshall continued to distance himself from the bulk of Redemption’s residents while he tried to think things through. “Great,” he casually commented, “and now you’re talking to yourself.” Things were really off to a wonderful start. This was far from anything like the stories he loved as a child – at least in them the town didn’t turn on the hero. Or did they, he didn’t recall any like that but then again a lot had happened since he was a kid. Not to mention he’d slept since then too.

  “So, what’s the plan, man,” Marshall found himself asking aloud. Oddly enough the inquiry prompted him to respond reflexively, it was important to not be rude. Even if you were the one talking – to yourself. “Good question; wish I knew.” Strategically speaking he wasn’t in the strongest of positions; he was outnumbered, public opinion wasn’t on his side and to be honest he still felt guilty about not being able to disable those explosives.