Chapter 51: But Before Going Home

It was three weeks, before the queen came back to England; and in those three weeks, George had secured another follower. Every morning, she woke the Smiths up with a different song.

"Anyone stepping to me you'll get burned, Cause I got lyrics and you ain't got none. So if you come to battle bring a shotgun, But if you do you're a fool, cause I duel to the death. Try and step to me you'll take your last breath, I gots the skill, come get your fill; Cause when I shoot ta give, I shoot to kill. So step out your seat and jump around. "

"George!!" bellowed Mr. Smith.

"George, please turn that noise off!" requested Mrs. Smith.

George just laughed as she made breakfast and prepared lunches for the day. Using Freddy's Star Wars figures and G.I. Joes, she taught Sarah the art of war. She taught her that you didn't have to be strong, IF you could be smart. She taught her manners and discipline. She taught her what Integra had taught her; respect, duty, and honor. She even taught her how to logistically run a household. Sarah helped as George took inventory of the fridge and pantry, and created shopping lists for Mrs. Smith. Together, they made sure that each room was clean and perfectly put away. Schedules were made and followed. And George even snuck Sarah out of the house at night to practice with her and Ink.

Freddy never did get it, though. He continued to tease his sister and tattle on George; until one day, his sister hip tossed him to the ground and punched him in the face. Mrs. Smith reprimanded George and forbid her to teach Sarah such violent things. Mr. Smith took more direct action, and kept Sarah and George apart; but little Sarah's life was about to change forever.

George was at Rachel's house. She was practicing on their shooting range when Ink came to her. They had moved on from paper targets and were now shooting at electronically controlled moving targets.

"Damn George, you've only been practicing for three weeks and you're almost as good as me." praised Rachel.

"My mother and father are both excellent shots and they practice every day." said George, as she shot a moving target dead center in its chest.

"Whoa, that's a big dog." said Rachel, as she spied Ink coming towards them.

Ink grabbed George by the wrist and pulled her behind a wall.

"George, you have to go home right now. The Smiths are in trouble." he warned.

"So." said George, pulling away from him.

He pushed her against the wall and looked her dead in the eye.

"A Hellsing protects people's lives. So are you a Hellsing or aren't you?"

George put her gun away, thanked Rachel, and left. She entered their home through the kitchen and witnessed a burglary in progress. All the Smiths were on the living room couch. All of them were tied up and gagged. She could see their fear. She could see Sarah crying.

"How many?" asked George.

"Three. One down here and two upstairs." reported Ink.

"Is that all?"

"George, you must ensure the Smiths safety first."

"No problem."

George started chanting and set up a spell of protection around the family. Then she slammed the kitchen door and called out.

"Hey mom! I'm home!"

The burglar waited for George to come out of the kitchen, but she didn't.

"Hey mom! What's for dinner?!"

The burglar called down one of his buddies from upstairs to watch the family, while he checked out the kitchen. George held a kitchen knife in her hands, and waited for him to come into the kitchen. She waited for him behind the fridge door, as she pretended to rummage for food.

"Hey you, turn around."

George moved slowly, hiding the knife behind her, as she turned around.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Don't be dumb kid; just get into the living room with the rest of your family." ordered the burglar, as he waved his gun for George to move.

"Ok. Ok, but…"

"But what?"

"They're not my family." said George, throwing the knife at him.

The knife hit him dead in the vein on his right hand. He dropped his gun and grasped his right arm with his left to stop the bleeding. George rushed over to him and kicked him in his nuts.

"Oh, Fck!" he groaned, as he pulled his legs together to protect his groin.

His head now closer to the ground, George jumped up and kicked him in the head. The burglar dropped to the floor unconscious. George picked up the gun and left the kitchen.

"Toby! Toby! You o.k?" called out the second burglar.

George walked right into the living room and up to the second burglar.

"Hold it!" he ordered, pointing the gun in her face.

George stood still, but not from fear.

"Where is Toby?"

"He's in the kitchen." said George, with an evil grin. "He cut his hand on a kitchen knife. If he gets to a hospital now, he might live."

The second burglar kept the gun pointed at George, as he went to look into the kitchen. There he saw Charlie lying on the floor, blood pouring from his wrist, where the knife split it in two.

"Oh my god!" he screamed, as he ran his trembling fingers through his hair. "You killed him!"

"He's not dead. I'm not allowed to kill humans."

"You're not allowed…who the hell are you?"

"I'm George Hellsing."

George quick drew her gun and fired at the second burglar's shoulder. He cried out in pain as the shot him; but he still tried to fire at George. Quick as viper, George fired a second shot that tore through the burglars left leg. He fell to the floor screaming pain.

"Still want to play, cowboy?" she asked.

The burglar dropped his gun and pushed it over to her. She kicked it out of his reach.

"Smart man, right leg would have been next." said George, picking up the gun.

George just stood there watching him bleed. He swore at her, under his breath. George smiled, turned, and walked over to the Smiths. She was about to untie them, but then she heard the third crook coming down the stairs. She was going to just shoot his legs out, but then she noticed two pair of legs coming down the stairs. The third burglar had a hostage. The old woman's eyes were full of fear, as the burglar held his gun to her head.

"You're pretty good for a little kid," he smirked, as he looked over at Charlie. "Charlie, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, gettin' taken down by a six year old."

"Screw you! I'm dying here!"

"I'm eight." corrected George.

"Drop the gun." he ordered. "Or grandma gets it."

"Why so you can shoot me, without me getting a fair shot. Why don't you let go of the old lady and we'll settle this the American way. We'll just start shooting and the last person standing wins."

"Ha ha ha. You're funny."

George quickly raised her gun and shot him in the head while he was laughing at her.

"And you're dead." said George, as she watched his body fall. "Damn it, sir is gonna kill me for this."

His death reflex caused the gun to go off, but instead of hitting the old lady, the angle of the gun sent the bullet towards the Smiths. The old lady screamed as blood splatter her face and she dropped to the floor in a faint. The Smiths flinched at they heard the gun go off, but then the bullet ricocheted and hit the wall. George put the gun down and untied Mr. Smith. She started to untie Mrs. Smith, but Mr. Smith pushed her away.

"Get away from us!"

George stepped back.

"What happened…how did…?" asked Mrs. Smith, as she eyed George, and rubbed her sore wrists.

"It's a karma spell. It's a spell of protection and reflection. It protects the target and reflects the damage upon the one who inflects it. You were in no danger. I may not like you, but it's my duty to protect you."

"Spells? You mean like in black magic?" asked Mr. Smith, untying Freddy.

"No, protection spells are considered white magic."

Sarah ran to George.

"Thank you, George. I was so scared. I thought that he was going to kill you. That we were going to die." cried Sarah.

"As I said Sarah, It's my duty to protect you."

"Get away from her Sarah." warned Mrs. Smith, pulling Sarah away from George. "Good Christians don't dabble in black magic. They should have told us that you were Wiccan. We never would have adopted you. This robbery is our punishment for letting evil into our home."

"Are you insane? I just saved your life! And I'm not a Wiccan anymore than I'm a Satanist."

"Enough! Tomorrow we're calling Mrs. Kenmore. We're not keeping you." said Mr. Smith, still shaking with fear.

"And you won't have too." said a strong male voice.