Part Twenty-five
The young lion arrived at the scene immediately around the yellow-bricked building – his sense of direction was so acute, so keenly honed that it had transcended mere expertise and had become animal instinct, bred into his genes. He was thankful that the soldiers had gone and that the hospital was undamaged – the ravaging throwbacks had not reached the site. He looked back, stopping to tame his panting breath and saw, to his horror, that he had outrun and lost the large cat.
Kara was alone and in exhausted desperation succame to a moment of panic.
But that weakness was temporary and in an instant his resolve returned – he caught a glimpse of that dark shadow, hiding and moving through the discarded trash and rubble.
Open in the filtered daylight, the shape was no longer obscured by ethereal vagueness. The figure was a man-tiger hybrid, with red and black stripes and thinning mane. The interloper crouched low to the ground to keep his head concealed just below cover. The stranger bobbed left and right, his attention transfixed upon the steps of the main entrance.
Footsteps – Kara shifted his eyes up to the open glass doors of the lightless lobby. Caesar emerged from the building unscathed and just the sight of him alive and well put a smile on his face.
"NO! WAIT!" he shouted – the mysterious figure jumped out of the pile of discarded ruins and jabbed the young man in the ribs.
Caught completely off-guard, Caesar staggered back and did not retaliate when the red tiger lunged at his head.
Enraged, Kara snarled and rushed into the chaos of the fight –
At that very moment the ground rumbled and a large bubble emerged beneath the pavement of the streets. The conical form grew and expanded, it knocked cars over, it heaved and cracked iron struts and concrete embankments – it became so immense that the very substance of the road splintered and a noxious, gray smoke plumed up from beneath with a piercing loud howl that made him and the strange, human-tiger wince in pain. The sliver widened, the red tips of flames licked the jagged edge of the rent and sizzled the boiling, dripping tar.
The entire block on the other side of the hospital gave way and collapsed one hundred feet to the surface of Third Earth. The massive hole that shift had created gave clear and unobstructed view of the hell beneath – a dynamo had exploded and the ensuing fires had spread over a wide area. The heat of the flames was so intense that it melted the soil and buckled the very supports of that sector of Metropolis. The red, orange tendrils of the infernal flames snaked and wisped about like the thrashing snakes of hell itself, striving to consume all in its path.
"You!" the young lion said, grabbing the figure's shoulder, "you built that robot!"
Black, ashy smoke vented from manholes and sewer grates and other, large holes the rebellious workers had carved out of the city.
It was Algernon but he did not respond with words – distracted from his work of killing Caesar, he turned to Kara with an equally sinister design. He curled his lip to reveal white, sharp teeth and motioned his fisted arm –
But the youth was quick and anticipated the strike. He drew back quickly and just as swiftly kicked the older tiger just under the stomach. Yet, the human hybrid was not hurt – the doctor lunged at the lion's jaw but he made no contact. Kara threw his body's weight forward and knocked Algernon backward, onto the street – losing his balance, he fell, too.
Caesar lay across the steps, gradually coming to but largely unconscious – his eyes blinked open and he saw, helplessly, how his friend and that strange tiger-man tumbled about the street, dangerously close to the precipitous edge. He wanted to yell out a warning, he wanted to get up and help his friend but his beating had sapped his strength and he had barely enough will to keep awake.
Kara moved his head away in time before the mad inventor could pound his boot into his face. The ground was hot and it seared his fur through the holes that the fight was shredding into his uniform. He spun around and his legs touched Algernon's shins.
A black helicopter's chopping blades scorched the air above – the doctor was distracted and the young lion was terrified. He used the full-force of his strength to knock the red, black tiger down. Still on the ground himself, he kicked the stranger's face again and again and again until his own face was hit by a spray of blood.
He got up – the man, too, tried to stand but legs dangled precariously from the jittery rim that marked the boundary of the deep hole. He stomped on the figure's hands until his fingers let go of their hold and he slid back some more.
Algernon managed to latch onto a rock that protruded up from the road but the heat – in spite of the fact that the fire below had consumed itself – had seriously deformed the pavement. The stone loosened and with it gone nothing held the doctor back from the hundred-foot fall of death.