JSA: Land Of The Thuggee
By Bruce Wayne
Justice Society of America created by Gardner Fox
Dedicated to ME, who has taught me more about being philosophical than anyone.
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
Chapter 7
The Atom burst through the door that Starman had blasted open. His target was the Thuggee strangler who was throttling the hapless captive who had been chosen for sacrifice by the cult of Kali. Atom concentrated on this single adversary and failed to notice Hourman was in the same deadly predicament.
The diminutive American crimefighter swung a fist that plowed into the side of the Thuggee's skull. As the man began to fall, one of the other Indian's who was holding an arm of the man being strangled attempted to catch his cohort. He was unable to catch the man in time as he slumped to the floor.
Thugs charged at the Atom, two using their empty hands and one holding a silk garrote. Atom did not hesitate. He promptly hit the closest aggressor with a punch to the chin.
A yellow cord whipped out and curled around the Atom's wrist like a snake. The Thuggee caught the loose end in his fist and yanked hard. The knotted rupee squeezed, and Atom cursed under his breath as he tried to regain control of his own arm.
"Sneaky jerk," the American growled, slashing the side of his left hand into the nerve cluster behind his opponent's collarbone.
The blow doubled the man up, and the Atom rammed a knee into the Thug's gut. His moan and pain was music to the American's ears as he yanked his right arm to pull the clinging scarf from the Indian's weakened grasp. Atom slammed his fist into the man's face, sending him into an awkward shuffle across the floor.
The third Thuggee lunged at the JSA member's throat, fingers arched like talons of a murderous vulture. The Atom thrust his arms between the Indian's hands and batted them against the insides of the man's wrist before he could apply a choke hold.
The American executed a double thumb jab, stabbing the tips of his thumbs into the carotid arteries of his opponent's neck. The Indian convulsed as if struck by an electric shock. The Atom quickly clapped open palms against the Thug's ears and followed through with a fast chop across the bridge of the nose. The Indian fell senseless, but three more Kali zealots launched themselves at Atom.
"Dammit!" the American hissed as readied himself for the onslaught.
The Atom suddenly dropped to one knee and punched a fist upward, striking one of his assailants in the midsection. The attacker hopped and twisted into the other two men who were approaching. All three fell to the floor in a twitching tangle of arms and legs.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
Hawkman had also been confronted by a tidal wave of Thuggee attackers. The Winged Wonder from New York City grabbed a chair and slammed it into three Thugs. The trio shrieked in agony and crumpled to the floor. Three more Kali crackpots immediately took their places. One Thug even used the body of one of his injured comrades for a springboard.
The guy literally dived at Hawkman, pouncing like a deranged leopard. Unfortunately, he did not know that the JSA chairman could really fly. Hawkman quickly rose into the air and the man went flying underneath, tackling nothing but air. The man landed on the floor hard.
"Great Scott," Hawkman muttered as he came back to the ground and saw two more Thugs closing in fast.
They were on him so quickly that he did not have time to respond properly. His hand slapped his belt as one Thuggee swung a silk loop at his head. Hawkman's arm rose swiftly, an ancient short sword in his fist. The razor- sharp edge of the thick six-inch blade slashed the Thug's wrist, nearly chopping his hand off as it sliced through skin and muscle. The blade cut deep into bone, piercing to the marrow.
The Thuggee screamed as blood jetted from severed arteries. His hand dangled uselessly from the maimed wrist and his scarf flapped like a flag of surrender in his other fist. Hawkman executed a swift, graceful kick into the man to send him flying to the floor in pain.
The winged crimefighter rose into the air fast. Before another Thug realized what had happened to his comrade, he tried to jump into the air and reach at Hawkman. The Indian jumped a few times and then glanced at the other Kali disciple that Hawkman had struck with his sword. Blood was flowing from the man's dangling wrist. The horrifying sight distracted the amateur assassin for a split second.
This was all the time a crimefighter like Hawkman needed. His left hand slashed a cross-body stroke, the hard edge of his hand smashing the Thug above the upper lip. The blow dazed the Indian and made him stagger two steps backward. Then the Winged Wonder lunged at the man and struck the Thuggee under the sternum. The Indian gasped in pain from the powerful blow and fell to the floor.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
Starman had faced another wave of Thugs near the front door. The poker- faced super-hero calmly accepted the challenge and handled it swiftly and efficiently. The Man of the Night lowered the aim of his weapon and fired at his attackers' legs. The Cosmic Rod glowed like an angry beast from the depths of hell.
A beam of energy emanated from the rod and lifted a Thuggee into the air and unceremoniously dropped the man to the ground with a resounding thud. Another blast from the rod threw another Kali into a wall. A third volley from the amazing device merely blasted another Indian into unconsciousness.
A Thuggee wearing a red turban decided the infidels were not sent as sacrifices for Kali. He clearly intended to shed blood as he hurled himself at Starman, a large curved knife in his fist.
The crimefighter raised his Cosmic Rod and sent a blast into the knife artist's chest, and the impact hurled the Thuggee six feet to collide with two of his comrades, knocking them to the floor. Another maniac cult member immediately attacked Starman. The American super-hero glimpsed his assailant and slashed a rapid sweep with the Cosmic Rod, slamming the tip of the rod across the idiot's face. The Thug dropped to floor with a lot of broken bones in his lower face.
A Thuggee suddenly sprang upright, a silk garrote held in his fists. He raised the strangling cloth overhead and tried to rush Starman. The hero quickly raised his Cosmic Rod, holding the device to form a solid bar. The killer's wrists struck the metal frame of Starman's blaster, the yellow scarf flopping harmlessly against the rod. Starman's boot lashed out and caught the guy just above the scrotum. The kick ruptured the Thug's bladder and put a dent in his colon. The Thug folded up in agony, and Starman clubbed his opponent across the back of the skull with the bottom portion of the Cosmic Rod.
Four hands reached for Starman. The crimefighter in red tried to move back to swing his Cosmic Rod at the two attackers, but the Thuggees grabbed the seemingly magical device. One Indian seized the middle of the rod while the other held the top. The fanatics pulled forcibly, trying to wrench the weapon from Starman's grasp, but the hero was built like a young bull and clung to the Cosmic Rod.
The muscular JSA warrior probably would have won the tug-of-war contest, but he realized other opponents might attack while he was struggling with the two aggressors. Starman activated the rod and both men were severely jolted like they were hit by a lightning bolt. The two Indians stumbled backward as Starman quickly put the rod back into his holster. The crimefighter's hands then snaked out. His powerful fingers seized the throats of his enemies and squeezed hard. The Thugs gasped and choked, startled by Starman's unexpected tactic. The American abruptly rolled his brawny shoulders and slammed the Indians' heads together. Their eyes rolled upward, and their bodies fell limp. Starman smacked their skulls together again to be certain both men were unconscious before he released the pair.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
Hourman had to act qucikly. The Thuggee who had wound the silk garrote around his neck was well trained in the art of strangulation. Within seconds, the pressure at his throat would render the Man of the Hour senseless or dead. The other two Thugs still held the crimefighter's arms. Nobody was going to save Hourman except Hourman.
What the Indians did not realize was that Hourman had super-strength after swallowing a Miraclo pill. The two Thugs who were holding his arms were the first to go flying through the air as Hourman easily hurled them.
The Kali lunatic who still had the scarf around Hourman's neck cursed in Hindi and pulled harder. The cowled fighting machine reached back over his shoulders and clawed at the strangling cloth, trying to find the Thug's hands. The Indian killer tried to stamp a foot into the back of Hourman's knee. The kick glanced off the super-hero's calf muscle. Hourman responded by stomping a heel into the Thug's instep, snapping it at that point. The strangler grunted and twisted the garrote, trying to pull Hourman off balance.
Then the JSA crimefighter found the Thuggee's hands. He pried at the man's fists until he caught both little fingers. In the movies, a hero might throw the strangler over his shoulder. In reality, this would probably result in a broken neck. But when a hero has super-strength, he can easily throw the villain over his shoulder -- and that's what Hourman did.
The Thug cried out in pain when he landed on the floor in a senseless heap.
However, the other two Thugs had only been dazed after Hourman had thrown them off his arms and they were mad as hell because the American hero refused to be a cooperative sacrifice. One Indian closed in and rammed a fist to the crimefighter's stomach. Hourman barely flinched and raised his right forearm to block the clawing fingers that reached for his throat.
The Justice Society crusader jabbed his left fist at the Thug's mouth and followed with a left hook to the side of his jaw. Even though Hourman had to pull his punches, the Indian staggered back from the blows. Hourman caught him under the jaw with a right uppercut, and the man's head bounced back. The Indian tumbled to the floor out cold.
Fingers clawed into Hourman's costume from behind. The Thug assailant planned to pull the Man of the Hour's head back to get an arm around his throat, but the crimefighter pumped an elbow into the attacker's solar plexus and turned sharply. The Thug held on to a piece of Hourman's cape, and the hero knocked the man's arm aside with a rising block and hammered his right fist under the Indian's ribs. The Kali cultist moaned and shuffled away from Hourman.
The American hero did not let his opponent get very far. He launched a kick at the Indian's groin, and the Thug reached for Hourman's leg, hoping to throw him off balance. But the kick was a feint, and Hourman pulled the attack short and abruptly swung his foot in a fast roundhouse kick. The boot crashed into the side of the Indian's shoulder and launched him flying into a wall. The guy sprawled on his back with a sigh, as if glad to slide into unconscious oblivion.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
The priest in charge of the Bombay chapter of the Thuggees had ordered the followers to fight the infidels, but he and his two personal bodyguards chose to flee the temple. The priest's enforcers reached under their robes and drew their old revolvers as the trio ran for the rear exit of the building.
One guard lingered in the worship hall to fire a hasty shot at Lieutenant Tagore. The CID officer had climbed through the window, his revolver held ready. The Thuggee's .38 round hissed within inches of Tagore's right shoulder. The bullet struck the windowsill behind the lieutenant, splintering wood and richocheting against the brick base beneath.
Tagore instantly returned fire. His gun spat a rapid volley of slugs that sliced a diagonal line of bullet holes in the Thuggee's chest. The bodyguard was hurled into the altar of Kali by the impact of the multiple slugs. His corpse fell against the statue of the goddess, knocking the brass figure to the floor.
The priest and the surviving bodyguard retreated into a narrow passage and headed for the exit. Hawkman had already found the rear door, and the Kali priest and his henchman ran for safety only to find the JSA chairman waiting for them.
The Thuggee bodyguard raised his .38 revolver, but Hawkman rose quickly into the air avoiding the man's aim. Two rounds were fired, missing the amazing hero. Hawkman's feet slammed into the man's chest before he could acquire a target. The impact of Hawkman's blow, drove the man into a pile of garbage cans.
The priest called out in horror as he saw his bodyguard smashed to the ground by a winged man. A portly, middle-aged Indian, the priest stared fearfully at Hawkman. He clutched the ritual pickax as if hoping magic would ward off the formidable figure who stood before him. But the man in the strange costume remained.
"It is said every smart businessman in India must learn at least three languages," Hawkman declared. "Do you speak English?"
"Yes, sahib," the priest replied with a humble bow. "Please do not kill me. I am not a man of violence, and I would rather reward you with silver than continue this carnage."
"I am not interested in silver," the hero said.
"But you shall have it, anyway," the priest told him.
With surprising speed for a man of his bulk, the priest slashed the pickax in a cross-body stroke. The silver blade flashed toward Hawkman's head, but the crimefighter was faster. He moved quickly to his right and into the air with amazing speed. The ornate pickax found nothing but air.
Hawkman swiftly slammed his fist down on the priest's right hand, smashing the man's fingers. The Thug leader screamed, but Hawkman ignored him and clamped his hand around the fellow's left wrist. He flexed his muscles with tight, bone-crushing force.
The priest shrieked as his wrist was held in a vicelike grip. The pickax fell to the ground, and Hawkman kicked one of the Thug's feet, tripping the man. The priest crashed on his back, sobbing with pain.
"Look," Hawkman said as he gazed down at the cultist, "we don't have all night. Get up so we can wrap our business here."
To be continued ...
By Bruce Wayne
Justice Society of America created by Gardner Fox
Dedicated to ME, who has taught me more about being philosophical than anyone.
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit by the author.
Chapter 7
The Atom burst through the door that Starman had blasted open. His target was the Thuggee strangler who was throttling the hapless captive who had been chosen for sacrifice by the cult of Kali. Atom concentrated on this single adversary and failed to notice Hourman was in the same deadly predicament.
The diminutive American crimefighter swung a fist that plowed into the side of the Thuggee's skull. As the man began to fall, one of the other Indian's who was holding an arm of the man being strangled attempted to catch his cohort. He was unable to catch the man in time as he slumped to the floor.
Thugs charged at the Atom, two using their empty hands and one holding a silk garrote. Atom did not hesitate. He promptly hit the closest aggressor with a punch to the chin.
A yellow cord whipped out and curled around the Atom's wrist like a snake. The Thuggee caught the loose end in his fist and yanked hard. The knotted rupee squeezed, and Atom cursed under his breath as he tried to regain control of his own arm.
"Sneaky jerk," the American growled, slashing the side of his left hand into the nerve cluster behind his opponent's collarbone.
The blow doubled the man up, and the Atom rammed a knee into the Thug's gut. His moan and pain was music to the American's ears as he yanked his right arm to pull the clinging scarf from the Indian's weakened grasp. Atom slammed his fist into the man's face, sending him into an awkward shuffle across the floor.
The third Thuggee lunged at the JSA member's throat, fingers arched like talons of a murderous vulture. The Atom thrust his arms between the Indian's hands and batted them against the insides of the man's wrist before he could apply a choke hold.
The American executed a double thumb jab, stabbing the tips of his thumbs into the carotid arteries of his opponent's neck. The Indian convulsed as if struck by an electric shock. The Atom quickly clapped open palms against the Thug's ears and followed through with a fast chop across the bridge of the nose. The Indian fell senseless, but three more Kali zealots launched themselves at Atom.
"Dammit!" the American hissed as readied himself for the onslaught.
The Atom suddenly dropped to one knee and punched a fist upward, striking one of his assailants in the midsection. The attacker hopped and twisted into the other two men who were approaching. All three fell to the floor in a twitching tangle of arms and legs.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
Hawkman had also been confronted by a tidal wave of Thuggee attackers. The Winged Wonder from New York City grabbed a chair and slammed it into three Thugs. The trio shrieked in agony and crumpled to the floor. Three more Kali crackpots immediately took their places. One Thug even used the body of one of his injured comrades for a springboard.
The guy literally dived at Hawkman, pouncing like a deranged leopard. Unfortunately, he did not know that the JSA chairman could really fly. Hawkman quickly rose into the air and the man went flying underneath, tackling nothing but air. The man landed on the floor hard.
"Great Scott," Hawkman muttered as he came back to the ground and saw two more Thugs closing in fast.
They were on him so quickly that he did not have time to respond properly. His hand slapped his belt as one Thuggee swung a silk loop at his head. Hawkman's arm rose swiftly, an ancient short sword in his fist. The razor- sharp edge of the thick six-inch blade slashed the Thug's wrist, nearly chopping his hand off as it sliced through skin and muscle. The blade cut deep into bone, piercing to the marrow.
The Thuggee screamed as blood jetted from severed arteries. His hand dangled uselessly from the maimed wrist and his scarf flapped like a flag of surrender in his other fist. Hawkman executed a swift, graceful kick into the man to send him flying to the floor in pain.
The winged crimefighter rose into the air fast. Before another Thug realized what had happened to his comrade, he tried to jump into the air and reach at Hawkman. The Indian jumped a few times and then glanced at the other Kali disciple that Hawkman had struck with his sword. Blood was flowing from the man's dangling wrist. The horrifying sight distracted the amateur assassin for a split second.
This was all the time a crimefighter like Hawkman needed. His left hand slashed a cross-body stroke, the hard edge of his hand smashing the Thug above the upper lip. The blow dazed the Indian and made him stagger two steps backward. Then the Winged Wonder lunged at the man and struck the Thuggee under the sternum. The Indian gasped in pain from the powerful blow and fell to the floor.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
Starman had faced another wave of Thugs near the front door. The poker- faced super-hero calmly accepted the challenge and handled it swiftly and efficiently. The Man of the Night lowered the aim of his weapon and fired at his attackers' legs. The Cosmic Rod glowed like an angry beast from the depths of hell.
A beam of energy emanated from the rod and lifted a Thuggee into the air and unceremoniously dropped the man to the ground with a resounding thud. Another blast from the rod threw another Kali into a wall. A third volley from the amazing device merely blasted another Indian into unconsciousness.
A Thuggee wearing a red turban decided the infidels were not sent as sacrifices for Kali. He clearly intended to shed blood as he hurled himself at Starman, a large curved knife in his fist.
The crimefighter raised his Cosmic Rod and sent a blast into the knife artist's chest, and the impact hurled the Thuggee six feet to collide with two of his comrades, knocking them to the floor. Another maniac cult member immediately attacked Starman. The American super-hero glimpsed his assailant and slashed a rapid sweep with the Cosmic Rod, slamming the tip of the rod across the idiot's face. The Thug dropped to floor with a lot of broken bones in his lower face.
A Thuggee suddenly sprang upright, a silk garrote held in his fists. He raised the strangling cloth overhead and tried to rush Starman. The hero quickly raised his Cosmic Rod, holding the device to form a solid bar. The killer's wrists struck the metal frame of Starman's blaster, the yellow scarf flopping harmlessly against the rod. Starman's boot lashed out and caught the guy just above the scrotum. The kick ruptured the Thug's bladder and put a dent in his colon. The Thug folded up in agony, and Starman clubbed his opponent across the back of the skull with the bottom portion of the Cosmic Rod.
Four hands reached for Starman. The crimefighter in red tried to move back to swing his Cosmic Rod at the two attackers, but the Thuggees grabbed the seemingly magical device. One Indian seized the middle of the rod while the other held the top. The fanatics pulled forcibly, trying to wrench the weapon from Starman's grasp, but the hero was built like a young bull and clung to the Cosmic Rod.
The muscular JSA warrior probably would have won the tug-of-war contest, but he realized other opponents might attack while he was struggling with the two aggressors. Starman activated the rod and both men were severely jolted like they were hit by a lightning bolt. The two Indians stumbled backward as Starman quickly put the rod back into his holster. The crimefighter's hands then snaked out. His powerful fingers seized the throats of his enemies and squeezed hard. The Thugs gasped and choked, startled by Starman's unexpected tactic. The American abruptly rolled his brawny shoulders and slammed the Indians' heads together. Their eyes rolled upward, and their bodies fell limp. Starman smacked their skulls together again to be certain both men were unconscious before he released the pair.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
Hourman had to act qucikly. The Thuggee who had wound the silk garrote around his neck was well trained in the art of strangulation. Within seconds, the pressure at his throat would render the Man of the Hour senseless or dead. The other two Thugs still held the crimefighter's arms. Nobody was going to save Hourman except Hourman.
What the Indians did not realize was that Hourman had super-strength after swallowing a Miraclo pill. The two Thugs who were holding his arms were the first to go flying through the air as Hourman easily hurled them.
The Kali lunatic who still had the scarf around Hourman's neck cursed in Hindi and pulled harder. The cowled fighting machine reached back over his shoulders and clawed at the strangling cloth, trying to find the Thug's hands. The Indian killer tried to stamp a foot into the back of Hourman's knee. The kick glanced off the super-hero's calf muscle. Hourman responded by stomping a heel into the Thug's instep, snapping it at that point. The strangler grunted and twisted the garrote, trying to pull Hourman off balance.
Then the JSA crimefighter found the Thuggee's hands. He pried at the man's fists until he caught both little fingers. In the movies, a hero might throw the strangler over his shoulder. In reality, this would probably result in a broken neck. But when a hero has super-strength, he can easily throw the villain over his shoulder -- and that's what Hourman did.
The Thug cried out in pain when he landed on the floor in a senseless heap.
However, the other two Thugs had only been dazed after Hourman had thrown them off his arms and they were mad as hell because the American hero refused to be a cooperative sacrifice. One Indian closed in and rammed a fist to the crimefighter's stomach. Hourman barely flinched and raised his right forearm to block the clawing fingers that reached for his throat.
The Justice Society crusader jabbed his left fist at the Thug's mouth and followed with a left hook to the side of his jaw. Even though Hourman had to pull his punches, the Indian staggered back from the blows. Hourman caught him under the jaw with a right uppercut, and the man's head bounced back. The Indian tumbled to the floor out cold.
Fingers clawed into Hourman's costume from behind. The Thug assailant planned to pull the Man of the Hour's head back to get an arm around his throat, but the crimefighter pumped an elbow into the attacker's solar plexus and turned sharply. The Thug held on to a piece of Hourman's cape, and the hero knocked the man's arm aside with a rising block and hammered his right fist under the Indian's ribs. The Kali cultist moaned and shuffled away from Hourman.
The American hero did not let his opponent get very far. He launched a kick at the Indian's groin, and the Thug reached for Hourman's leg, hoping to throw him off balance. But the kick was a feint, and Hourman pulled the attack short and abruptly swung his foot in a fast roundhouse kick. The boot crashed into the side of the Indian's shoulder and launched him flying into a wall. The guy sprawled on his back with a sigh, as if glad to slide into unconscious oblivion.
^J^ ^S^ ^A^
The priest in charge of the Bombay chapter of the Thuggees had ordered the followers to fight the infidels, but he and his two personal bodyguards chose to flee the temple. The priest's enforcers reached under their robes and drew their old revolvers as the trio ran for the rear exit of the building.
One guard lingered in the worship hall to fire a hasty shot at Lieutenant Tagore. The CID officer had climbed through the window, his revolver held ready. The Thuggee's .38 round hissed within inches of Tagore's right shoulder. The bullet struck the windowsill behind the lieutenant, splintering wood and richocheting against the brick base beneath.
Tagore instantly returned fire. His gun spat a rapid volley of slugs that sliced a diagonal line of bullet holes in the Thuggee's chest. The bodyguard was hurled into the altar of Kali by the impact of the multiple slugs. His corpse fell against the statue of the goddess, knocking the brass figure to the floor.
The priest and the surviving bodyguard retreated into a narrow passage and headed for the exit. Hawkman had already found the rear door, and the Kali priest and his henchman ran for safety only to find the JSA chairman waiting for them.
The Thuggee bodyguard raised his .38 revolver, but Hawkman rose quickly into the air avoiding the man's aim. Two rounds were fired, missing the amazing hero. Hawkman's feet slammed into the man's chest before he could acquire a target. The impact of Hawkman's blow, drove the man into a pile of garbage cans.
The priest called out in horror as he saw his bodyguard smashed to the ground by a winged man. A portly, middle-aged Indian, the priest stared fearfully at Hawkman. He clutched the ritual pickax as if hoping magic would ward off the formidable figure who stood before him. But the man in the strange costume remained.
"It is said every smart businessman in India must learn at least three languages," Hawkman declared. "Do you speak English?"
"Yes, sahib," the priest replied with a humble bow. "Please do not kill me. I am not a man of violence, and I would rather reward you with silver than continue this carnage."
"I am not interested in silver," the hero said.
"But you shall have it, anyway," the priest told him.
With surprising speed for a man of his bulk, the priest slashed the pickax in a cross-body stroke. The silver blade flashed toward Hawkman's head, but the crimefighter was faster. He moved quickly to his right and into the air with amazing speed. The ornate pickax found nothing but air.
Hawkman swiftly slammed his fist down on the priest's right hand, smashing the man's fingers. The Thug leader screamed, but Hawkman ignored him and clamped his hand around the fellow's left wrist. He flexed his muscles with tight, bone-crushing force.
The priest shrieked as his wrist was held in a vicelike grip. The pickax fell to the ground, and Hawkman kicked one of the Thug's feet, tripping the man. The priest crashed on his back, sobbing with pain.
"Look," Hawkman said as he gazed down at the cultist, "we don't have all night. Get up so we can wrap our business here."
To be continued ...