The Nameless
Ch.6 "Confrontations"
EfrainMan
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.
* * *
Demona was quieter now that Myria moved her from her shoulders to her
arms. And she had become engrossed in Myria's tale of forgotten civilizations.
So little she said that Myria had to ask her a couple of times if she was still
listening. However, she didn't like the idea of humans digging their artifacts
up. At least, humans not on her payroll. She definitely needed to gain control
of the excavations. But what she could not believe was that gargoyles had
created weapons as destructive as the humans have. Inconceivable. They must have
been mixed up. The humans were probably the ones who destroyed everything, and
the excavators had blamed the gargoyles. Absurd.
"There," Demona said as she pointed to a building. It was very close to
her house, but the stranger would never know. "That rooftop will be fine."
"Cool." They landed on a roof that had several rectangular A/C machines
on half of the area, about three feet on all sides. There was also an elevator
shaft housing between them and the empty area.
"Alright," Myria took out a pen and paper from one of her pouches, wrote
something on it and handed it to Demona, "that's my cell number. Call me if you
see another Un-Named."
"You have a cell phone?" She was a bit amazed.
"Duh. Clark got it for me and I integratified it into my gun. A real
fuckin' life saver. I dunno how people survived without it."
'Integratify? Oh, integrate.' Demona thought as she put the number away,
and they became silent. Awkwardly so.
"Well," Myria said finally, "you prolly wanna wait 'til I git before you
go home, so, see ya." She waved to her and Demona nodded mechanically. She had
to admit, it had been a while since someone treated her with amicability without
some twisted purpose. Save for her daughter. But as Myria began to walk away,
Angela landed not far from them. She set down Clark and went to her mother.
"Daughter?"
"The fuck are you doing here?" Myria asked Clark, feigning anger.
"Keeping an eye on you that's what." Clark smiled mischievously. Myria
gave him a light bonk on the head. Demona looked at their interchange with some
curiosity. Angela interrupted her train of thought:
"Mother, do not be alarmed, but I think we were followed."
"What? You THINK you were followed? By whom?" She was a bit angry now,
"Hasn't you father taught you anything about evasion?"
"Well, we thought we heard a helicopter behind us a couple of times, but
we saw nothing."
"Wait," Myria said, concentrating on hearing. "I do hear a 'copter. But
there's too much echo 'round here. Can't hear for shit where it's coming from...
It's getting closer." They looked up and around to find it. It was still getting
louder.
"Shit, it's right up our asses! But where the fuck is it?" Her question
was answered when the helicopter burst up from behind the building. It leveled
close and parallel to the edge, and the side door opened. Nine hammer wielding
Quarrymen leaped out and formed a line facing them. They charged their weapons.
"I knew it!" Demona shouted, "You led the Quarrymen to us!"
"What!?" Clark shouted.
"Those are Quarrymen!?" Myria shouted, "Fuck this!" She raised her gun
to them and, a few seconds later, shouted, "Withdraw or I WILL open fire!" The
Quarrymen stopped dead in their tracks.
"Dude, she's packin'!" one shouted.
"Let's get outta here!" another shouted, and they ran back to the heli.
Myria let out a deep breath and the others calmed. Angered still, Demona turned
to Clark and was about to accuse him, but Myria spoke up first:
"Sucks to be them. I was bluffing."
"Bluffing?" the others asked at the same time.
"Yeh. I tried to fire on them, but my gun's jammed." She demonstrated
trying to pull the trigger, but it did not move. Clark groaned and Myria smiled
sheepishly. Until a flash of red in front of her face wiped it off. Instantly,
they turned and saw the Quarrymen were arming themselves with charged particle
handguns, and one had fired upon them. He looked back at the rest of his team to
make sure they were coming.
"Oh, shit," Myria shouted and grabbed Angela by the arm and pulled her
to safety behind the elevator shaft housing. Before she could protest, Clark
grabbed Demona similarly and set her next to Angela. Soon, there were "laser"
shots all around them cutting the air. Angela clutched Demona and her thoughts
instantly went to her safety.
"Myria, un-jam that thing and return fire!" Clark shouted.
"Gimme a sec!" She opened her gun and began to inspect it.
"Then give me a pistol, they took mine at Eyrie!" Myria reached back,
pulled out a silver handgun and tossed it to Clark. The shots around them became
less, now only trying to keep them in place. Clark ran around to where the roof
was empty and, using the housing as cover, began to fire upon their assailants.
After three shots he hit one of them in the upper chest and the rest fired back
ferociously. He took cover, then fired back two rounds a few seconds later. Back
and forth he went, firing two rounds and taking cover. He injured another in the
arm. One of them shouted to the rest, and they ran to where the machinery was.
As they took cover behind them, Clark finished his clip. He released it and went
back to Myria. She was still poking around in her gun, and Angela was still with
Demona, though more composed.
"Myria, more clips."
"Here," She unhooked one of her pouches and handed it to him. "Didya get
any?"
"Two. Hey, Demona," Clark said as he reloaded, "didn't you say you had a
barrier spell?"
"Yes . . . but it only works on matter, not energy."
"Crap. Myria, give her a gun."
"Alright." She pulled a larger pistol from a holster on her leg and held
it out for Demona to take. She was slightly taken aback that the human was
asking for her help.
"Child, I need to do something." She wanted Angela to uncouple from her.
"Oh." She started to let go, when in Clark's hiatus the Quarrymen fired
ferociously around them, and Angela grabbed her mother tightly again. Demona
realized it was probably Angela's first real major firefight. Even gargoyle
warriors needed to get used to the intensity of human weapons. Myria reholstered
her pistol and went back to her MG.
"Damn." Clark went to the other side and spotted the Quarrymen's move-
ments. They were using the machinery as cover to advance to their position. He
fired at anything that moved, and they fired back sporadically. After some time,
he was able to stop their forward progress. He had four clips left, and they
stayed like that for a few minutes, advancing only when he reloaded. During that
time, he shot another Quarryman, the one he injured earlier, in the neck. He
thrashed on the ground for a minute as he suffocated, blood pooling under his
neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the other he hit, now dead. They
were very close, their fire cutting mere inches from them. Angela hugged her
mother closer again, and Clark was down to his last clip. Demona noticed Myria,
and she looked like almost a completely different gargoyle that the one she got
to know just a few minutes ago. But before they could get desperate they heard a
loud "cha-chik" behind them, and Clark thought it was the most beautiful sound
he'd ever heard.
"Myria!?"
"I'm good!" she shouted just loud enough for him to hear. Angela just
barely heard what Myria muttered softly after that. Clark fired off a few more
rounds, then shouted:
"I'm out!" He ran back to them and the Quarrymen saw their opportunity.
The one who led them into their cover shouted to them to go in and finish them
off. They got to the open space between their cover and the gargoyles' cover and
were met by Myria and her machinegun. Before they could react she had already
pulled the trigger. Angela yelped at the tremendous din Myria's gun produced and
capped her ears. It almost drowned out the helicopter. Demona held her closer.
Myria swept her gun across their attackers twice. Satisfied, she ran over in the
direction of the still hovering helicopter and fired upon it. But, the shots
ricocheted against the side, emanating bright sparks.
"Grrr, heavy armor," she muttered and flipped a switch on the gun. She
took aim and pulled the trigger. In a streak of smoke, she launched a rocket
propelled grenade from the second barrel in the gun. It hit the side of the
helicopter with a small explosion. However, it was still flyable and it began to
move off. Myria unlatched a small hatch under her gun to release the smoking,
empty shell. She reached back to yet another pouch, pulled another RPG round,
loaded it and closed the hatch. Although the copter was further out, she still
took aim and fired. The projectile hit near the rotor axis and ignited the fuel
within the motor. The copter exploded and began to plummet in a ball of flame.
Myria whooped and ran to the edge to see the crash. As took in the fiery mess
that was about to smash into the street, she also inspected that very street to
make sure noone was below. She exhaled when she observed it empty. Moments later
the street was irradiated by the final explosion of the aircraft as it slammed
into the pavement below.
Meanwhile, the other three had come out as soon as Myria ran to the
helicopter, and Angela froze at the scene in front of them. Clark and Demona
only grimaced. There were five dead Quarrymen, lying in blood, gaping holes in
various parts of their bodies. Two also had limbs torn off by the large rounds,
one had a huge hole in his head, another was lying on his intestines that had
been blown out and another had his head shorn off. Two were still left alive,
screaming in agony. One was on his knees, his right arm and shoulder ripped off,
blood trailing down the side of his body. The other was on his back, clutching
the bloody stump that was his left leg. Clark went up to the armless one an put
a bullet into his head. He fell like a rag doll. He ignored the other and ran to
Myria. Demona marveled at the power of that gargoyle's weapon. She wanted one.
Then she felt Angela turn her head onto her shoulder, and she heard her breathe
raggedly. She wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly. Demona could not
fathom how hard this night could have been on her daughter. But she also thought
of the fitting end to the filth, and smiled inwardly.
"Angela," she consoled, "you must be strong. These animals would've done
the same to you." There was no reply. Demona sighed. Her daughter still cared
for their kind. Even after this. Meanwhile, Clark caught up to Myria, looked
down at the wreckage and whistled.
"Jeez, what a mess."
"Yep. And I didn't kill any civilians this time."
"Good for you," he replied bitterly. "Let's get outta here." They walked
back to the other two, and Myria went to the last Quarryman left alive. He was
still groaning loudly, his hands around the severed leg.
"Hey, dick," she said as she pointed a pistol at him, "you're gonna tell
me where you Quarrymen are crashin', and I'll put you out of your misery."
He said nothing.
"That wound will kill you from blood loss, and we're nowhere near any
medical facilities, so. . . if you tell me where Quarrymen HQ is, you won't take
five really bad minutes to die."
"I don't wanna die." he said weakly. "Please . . ."
"Sorry, shit-face, you-"
"Please I don't wanna die, Idon'twannadieIdon'twannadieIdon'twannadie,"
he was convulsing badly now, blood still flowing from his leg. He then emanated
a loud groan, and relaxed as he died. Clark sighed and Angela was looking on in
horror. Demona was stoic.
"Well, shit," Myria said, "he was probably just an irregular." She began
to examine under his costume and Clark went to one of the others to do the same.
"Myria," Clark said, "I don't even think they're irregulars. Look, this
one has a business shirt under here." He indicated to the fallen man.
"Huh. And look at this guy, he has a wallet, a bunch of cash," she
stopped when she opened the wallet and saw his wife and kids, "a family."
"Myria, these guys are vigilantes." He turned to Angela, "Angela, what
do you know about the Quarrymen?" While Clark was looking away from Myria, she
pocketed the money in the man's wallet.
"They're humans who are trying to destroy our kind. Elisa told us the
police believe they are vigilantes, civilians."
"Man, that's whack," Myria said and sighed. "can't go killin' civilians
all willy-nilly. Sweet weapons, though. I never thought you could put a laser on
a unit so small." She picked one up.
"It's charged particle weaponry, actually," Demona said.
"No shit, huh? Well, this bad boy's a keeper." She replaced the pistol
on her leg holster with the new one. She gave the old one to Demona. "A present.
From a people long gone." Demona looked at her in shock, and nodded.
'And that hammer's pretty sweet, too,' Myria thought, 'I gotta get one
later.' Then she said:
"And, Clark! You did pretty good for your first sortie." She went over
and patted him on the back.
"Pretty good? I think I performed rather well under the circumstances."
"Eh," she shrugged, "only three hits out of. . . 75 rounds? You're a lot
better than that, and don't say it's 'cause it wasn't a shooting range. Your
accuracy shouldn't drop more that 50% in combat. And! When you started shooting
at them, you led them into a place where they could take cover."
"Oh!" Clark slapped his forehead.
"Yeah! Killing the enemy also entails preventing them from defending
themselves. Not just shooting 'em." Demona looked at them, and wondered if Clark
actually did those things on purpose. Wouldn't have surprise her. And she also
noticed that Myria became that other gargoyle for a moment there. Myria patted
Clark on the back again, more heartily, and said:
"Don't worry! I'll make a warrior out of you yet."
"Thanks. Damn near wet my pants, though." He sighed.
"Don't worry," Myria told Demona and Angela with a wink, "my human's not
housebroken yet. OW!" Clark punched her in the arm, and she glared at him. Then
she smiled and gave a quick brush of her knuckles over his forehead. In the
distance, the sound of sirens caught their attention.
"Demona," Clark said, "will you be alright?"
"Uh . . . yes. My home is not far from here. My wings should heal by
tomorrow." Why was she telling him that?
"Then let's go back to the castle." Myria picked up Clark and flew off.
"Take care, mother."
"I will, child." They hugged one last time and Angela glided off. Demona
climbed down the side of the building and looked around. She pushed in a brick
on the building and a door opened up in the wall. She walked in and made her way
through one of the many entrances into her mansion. Now home, her legs buckled
under her and she began to sob. She clutched her neck, bent over and began to
cry.
* * *
"Mr. Xanatos," Owen said, "the clan will be landing here shortly."
"Thank you, Owen. Let's go up, I want to know what happened."
"Of course. Will your wife be joining us?"
"No, she wanted to go to bed."
"Very well." Then began walking in the corridors to the clan's usual
landing spot.
"I hope Clark and his friend didn't lead them to any trouble," David
said.
"Friend, sir?"
"Yeah, the gargoyle that-" a thought suddenly occurred to him, "that got
past our defenses somehow. Owen, did you allow anyone to glide in tonight?"
"No, sir, I have not even detected any birds tonight."
"A female gargoyle glided in tonight after I introduced Clark to the
clan."
"Impossible. We have the most advanced radar money can buy, enhanced by
Puck's magic."
"Hmmm. Curiouser and curiouser." He scratched his beard.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
E-mails are more than welcome...they're BEGGED for! Jeez, am I 14m3 or what?
Ch.6 "Confrontations"
EfrainMan
rosavillalobos@mindspring.com
I dinnae own Gargoyles. . . but if any of you Disney guys wanna give it to me,
that's cool. Any original characters belong to my dark, twisted imagination, so
if you wanna use 'em, you gotta ask the voice in my head that tells me to kill.
* * *
Demona was quieter now that Myria moved her from her shoulders to her
arms. And she had become engrossed in Myria's tale of forgotten civilizations.
So little she said that Myria had to ask her a couple of times if she was still
listening. However, she didn't like the idea of humans digging their artifacts
up. At least, humans not on her payroll. She definitely needed to gain control
of the excavations. But what she could not believe was that gargoyles had
created weapons as destructive as the humans have. Inconceivable. They must have
been mixed up. The humans were probably the ones who destroyed everything, and
the excavators had blamed the gargoyles. Absurd.
"There," Demona said as she pointed to a building. It was very close to
her house, but the stranger would never know. "That rooftop will be fine."
"Cool." They landed on a roof that had several rectangular A/C machines
on half of the area, about three feet on all sides. There was also an elevator
shaft housing between them and the empty area.
"Alright," Myria took out a pen and paper from one of her pouches, wrote
something on it and handed it to Demona, "that's my cell number. Call me if you
see another Un-Named."
"You have a cell phone?" She was a bit amazed.
"Duh. Clark got it for me and I integratified it into my gun. A real
fuckin' life saver. I dunno how people survived without it."
'Integratify? Oh, integrate.' Demona thought as she put the number away,
and they became silent. Awkwardly so.
"Well," Myria said finally, "you prolly wanna wait 'til I git before you
go home, so, see ya." She waved to her and Demona nodded mechanically. She had
to admit, it had been a while since someone treated her with amicability without
some twisted purpose. Save for her daughter. But as Myria began to walk away,
Angela landed not far from them. She set down Clark and went to her mother.
"Daughter?"
"The fuck are you doing here?" Myria asked Clark, feigning anger.
"Keeping an eye on you that's what." Clark smiled mischievously. Myria
gave him a light bonk on the head. Demona looked at their interchange with some
curiosity. Angela interrupted her train of thought:
"Mother, do not be alarmed, but I think we were followed."
"What? You THINK you were followed? By whom?" She was a bit angry now,
"Hasn't you father taught you anything about evasion?"
"Well, we thought we heard a helicopter behind us a couple of times, but
we saw nothing."
"Wait," Myria said, concentrating on hearing. "I do hear a 'copter. But
there's too much echo 'round here. Can't hear for shit where it's coming from...
It's getting closer." They looked up and around to find it. It was still getting
louder.
"Shit, it's right up our asses! But where the fuck is it?" Her question
was answered when the helicopter burst up from behind the building. It leveled
close and parallel to the edge, and the side door opened. Nine hammer wielding
Quarrymen leaped out and formed a line facing them. They charged their weapons.
"I knew it!" Demona shouted, "You led the Quarrymen to us!"
"What!?" Clark shouted.
"Those are Quarrymen!?" Myria shouted, "Fuck this!" She raised her gun
to them and, a few seconds later, shouted, "Withdraw or I WILL open fire!" The
Quarrymen stopped dead in their tracks.
"Dude, she's packin'!" one shouted.
"Let's get outta here!" another shouted, and they ran back to the heli.
Myria let out a deep breath and the others calmed. Angered still, Demona turned
to Clark and was about to accuse him, but Myria spoke up first:
"Sucks to be them. I was bluffing."
"Bluffing?" the others asked at the same time.
"Yeh. I tried to fire on them, but my gun's jammed." She demonstrated
trying to pull the trigger, but it did not move. Clark groaned and Myria smiled
sheepishly. Until a flash of red in front of her face wiped it off. Instantly,
they turned and saw the Quarrymen were arming themselves with charged particle
handguns, and one had fired upon them. He looked back at the rest of his team to
make sure they were coming.
"Oh, shit," Myria shouted and grabbed Angela by the arm and pulled her
to safety behind the elevator shaft housing. Before she could protest, Clark
grabbed Demona similarly and set her next to Angela. Soon, there were "laser"
shots all around them cutting the air. Angela clutched Demona and her thoughts
instantly went to her safety.
"Myria, un-jam that thing and return fire!" Clark shouted.
"Gimme a sec!" She opened her gun and began to inspect it.
"Then give me a pistol, they took mine at Eyrie!" Myria reached back,
pulled out a silver handgun and tossed it to Clark. The shots around them became
less, now only trying to keep them in place. Clark ran around to where the roof
was empty and, using the housing as cover, began to fire upon their assailants.
After three shots he hit one of them in the upper chest and the rest fired back
ferociously. He took cover, then fired back two rounds a few seconds later. Back
and forth he went, firing two rounds and taking cover. He injured another in the
arm. One of them shouted to the rest, and they ran to where the machinery was.
As they took cover behind them, Clark finished his clip. He released it and went
back to Myria. She was still poking around in her gun, and Angela was still with
Demona, though more composed.
"Myria, more clips."
"Here," She unhooked one of her pouches and handed it to him. "Didya get
any?"
"Two. Hey, Demona," Clark said as he reloaded, "didn't you say you had a
barrier spell?"
"Yes . . . but it only works on matter, not energy."
"Crap. Myria, give her a gun."
"Alright." She pulled a larger pistol from a holster on her leg and held
it out for Demona to take. She was slightly taken aback that the human was
asking for her help.
"Child, I need to do something." She wanted Angela to uncouple from her.
"Oh." She started to let go, when in Clark's hiatus the Quarrymen fired
ferociously around them, and Angela grabbed her mother tightly again. Demona
realized it was probably Angela's first real major firefight. Even gargoyle
warriors needed to get used to the intensity of human weapons. Myria reholstered
her pistol and went back to her MG.
"Damn." Clark went to the other side and spotted the Quarrymen's move-
ments. They were using the machinery as cover to advance to their position. He
fired at anything that moved, and they fired back sporadically. After some time,
he was able to stop their forward progress. He had four clips left, and they
stayed like that for a few minutes, advancing only when he reloaded. During that
time, he shot another Quarryman, the one he injured earlier, in the neck. He
thrashed on the ground for a minute as he suffocated, blood pooling under his
neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the other he hit, now dead. They
were very close, their fire cutting mere inches from them. Angela hugged her
mother closer again, and Clark was down to his last clip. Demona noticed Myria,
and she looked like almost a completely different gargoyle that the one she got
to know just a few minutes ago. But before they could get desperate they heard a
loud "cha-chik" behind them, and Clark thought it was the most beautiful sound
he'd ever heard.
"Myria!?"
"I'm good!" she shouted just loud enough for him to hear. Angela just
barely heard what Myria muttered softly after that. Clark fired off a few more
rounds, then shouted:
"I'm out!" He ran back to them and the Quarrymen saw their opportunity.
The one who led them into their cover shouted to them to go in and finish them
off. They got to the open space between their cover and the gargoyles' cover and
were met by Myria and her machinegun. Before they could react she had already
pulled the trigger. Angela yelped at the tremendous din Myria's gun produced and
capped her ears. It almost drowned out the helicopter. Demona held her closer.
Myria swept her gun across their attackers twice. Satisfied, she ran over in the
direction of the still hovering helicopter and fired upon it. But, the shots
ricocheted against the side, emanating bright sparks.
"Grrr, heavy armor," she muttered and flipped a switch on the gun. She
took aim and pulled the trigger. In a streak of smoke, she launched a rocket
propelled grenade from the second barrel in the gun. It hit the side of the
helicopter with a small explosion. However, it was still flyable and it began to
move off. Myria unlatched a small hatch under her gun to release the smoking,
empty shell. She reached back to yet another pouch, pulled another RPG round,
loaded it and closed the hatch. Although the copter was further out, she still
took aim and fired. The projectile hit near the rotor axis and ignited the fuel
within the motor. The copter exploded and began to plummet in a ball of flame.
Myria whooped and ran to the edge to see the crash. As took in the fiery mess
that was about to smash into the street, she also inspected that very street to
make sure noone was below. She exhaled when she observed it empty. Moments later
the street was irradiated by the final explosion of the aircraft as it slammed
into the pavement below.
Meanwhile, the other three had come out as soon as Myria ran to the
helicopter, and Angela froze at the scene in front of them. Clark and Demona
only grimaced. There were five dead Quarrymen, lying in blood, gaping holes in
various parts of their bodies. Two also had limbs torn off by the large rounds,
one had a huge hole in his head, another was lying on his intestines that had
been blown out and another had his head shorn off. Two were still left alive,
screaming in agony. One was on his knees, his right arm and shoulder ripped off,
blood trailing down the side of his body. The other was on his back, clutching
the bloody stump that was his left leg. Clark went up to the armless one an put
a bullet into his head. He fell like a rag doll. He ignored the other and ran to
Myria. Demona marveled at the power of that gargoyle's weapon. She wanted one.
Then she felt Angela turn her head onto her shoulder, and she heard her breathe
raggedly. She wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly. Demona could not
fathom how hard this night could have been on her daughter. But she also thought
of the fitting end to the filth, and smiled inwardly.
"Angela," she consoled, "you must be strong. These animals would've done
the same to you." There was no reply. Demona sighed. Her daughter still cared
for their kind. Even after this. Meanwhile, Clark caught up to Myria, looked
down at the wreckage and whistled.
"Jeez, what a mess."
"Yep. And I didn't kill any civilians this time."
"Good for you," he replied bitterly. "Let's get outta here." They walked
back to the other two, and Myria went to the last Quarryman left alive. He was
still groaning loudly, his hands around the severed leg.
"Hey, dick," she said as she pointed a pistol at him, "you're gonna tell
me where you Quarrymen are crashin', and I'll put you out of your misery."
He said nothing.
"That wound will kill you from blood loss, and we're nowhere near any
medical facilities, so. . . if you tell me where Quarrymen HQ is, you won't take
five really bad minutes to die."
"I don't wanna die." he said weakly. "Please . . ."
"Sorry, shit-face, you-"
"Please I don't wanna die, Idon'twannadieIdon'twannadieIdon'twannadie,"
he was convulsing badly now, blood still flowing from his leg. He then emanated
a loud groan, and relaxed as he died. Clark sighed and Angela was looking on in
horror. Demona was stoic.
"Well, shit," Myria said, "he was probably just an irregular." She began
to examine under his costume and Clark went to one of the others to do the same.
"Myria," Clark said, "I don't even think they're irregulars. Look, this
one has a business shirt under here." He indicated to the fallen man.
"Huh. And look at this guy, he has a wallet, a bunch of cash," she
stopped when she opened the wallet and saw his wife and kids, "a family."
"Myria, these guys are vigilantes." He turned to Angela, "Angela, what
do you know about the Quarrymen?" While Clark was looking away from Myria, she
pocketed the money in the man's wallet.
"They're humans who are trying to destroy our kind. Elisa told us the
police believe they are vigilantes, civilians."
"Man, that's whack," Myria said and sighed. "can't go killin' civilians
all willy-nilly. Sweet weapons, though. I never thought you could put a laser on
a unit so small." She picked one up.
"It's charged particle weaponry, actually," Demona said.
"No shit, huh? Well, this bad boy's a keeper." She replaced the pistol
on her leg holster with the new one. She gave the old one to Demona. "A present.
From a people long gone." Demona looked at her in shock, and nodded.
'And that hammer's pretty sweet, too,' Myria thought, 'I gotta get one
later.' Then she said:
"And, Clark! You did pretty good for your first sortie." She went over
and patted him on the back.
"Pretty good? I think I performed rather well under the circumstances."
"Eh," she shrugged, "only three hits out of. . . 75 rounds? You're a lot
better than that, and don't say it's 'cause it wasn't a shooting range. Your
accuracy shouldn't drop more that 50% in combat. And! When you started shooting
at them, you led them into a place where they could take cover."
"Oh!" Clark slapped his forehead.
"Yeah! Killing the enemy also entails preventing them from defending
themselves. Not just shooting 'em." Demona looked at them, and wondered if Clark
actually did those things on purpose. Wouldn't have surprise her. And she also
noticed that Myria became that other gargoyle for a moment there. Myria patted
Clark on the back again, more heartily, and said:
"Don't worry! I'll make a warrior out of you yet."
"Thanks. Damn near wet my pants, though." He sighed.
"Don't worry," Myria told Demona and Angela with a wink, "my human's not
housebroken yet. OW!" Clark punched her in the arm, and she glared at him. Then
she smiled and gave a quick brush of her knuckles over his forehead. In the
distance, the sound of sirens caught their attention.
"Demona," Clark said, "will you be alright?"
"Uh . . . yes. My home is not far from here. My wings should heal by
tomorrow." Why was she telling him that?
"Then let's go back to the castle." Myria picked up Clark and flew off.
"Take care, mother."
"I will, child." They hugged one last time and Angela glided off. Demona
climbed down the side of the building and looked around. She pushed in a brick
on the building and a door opened up in the wall. She walked in and made her way
through one of the many entrances into her mansion. Now home, her legs buckled
under her and she began to sob. She clutched her neck, bent over and began to
cry.
* * *
"Mr. Xanatos," Owen said, "the clan will be landing here shortly."
"Thank you, Owen. Let's go up, I want to know what happened."
"Of course. Will your wife be joining us?"
"No, she wanted to go to bed."
"Very well." Then began walking in the corridors to the clan's usual
landing spot.
"I hope Clark and his friend didn't lead them to any trouble," David
said.
"Friend, sir?"
"Yeah, the gargoyle that-" a thought suddenly occurred to him, "that got
past our defenses somehow. Owen, did you allow anyone to glide in tonight?"
"No, sir, I have not even detected any birds tonight."
"A female gargoyle glided in tonight after I introduced Clark to the
clan."
"Impossible. We have the most advanced radar money can buy, enhanced by
Puck's magic."
"Hmmm. Curiouser and curiouser." He scratched his beard.
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