Happy New Year everyone. I beat my last years goal, complete this chapter in less time than chapter 2; and, this is the longest thing I have ever written and I did it in a five month span. Whoot new record! For those who read this, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, cheers!
Disclaimer: I don't own Onslaught, Brawl, Blastoff, Swindle, Vortex, or the transformers universe. But those they encounter are of my own creation.
The heat drained reality from the barren wasteland; it suffocated the stuffy, dust filled air like a boiling gas in a flask. Any breeze that swept through offered no comfort in clearing the particles; it just brought more and sluggishly wafted just enough to make the area not stagnant. Vultures soared in lackadaisical glides above the five decepticons that traveled at a sticky, lethargic pace.
Vortex lead but not by much as his legs staggered to carry him alongside the dirt road; Brawl and Swindle dwindled behind him. Onslaught came in fourth, straining to keep his back straight in a controlled march as the sun bored down on him. Every few yards he'd pause for Blastoff, their caboose, to catch up.
They had journeyed southeast, down from the mesas and scattered junipers and cedars to the open patchy grass plains and across a shallow river. The loose gravel road that cut through the riverbed created difficulty in their trek.
A loud splash announced Blastoff had slipped, and the scream alluded that he had dragged a victim with him. The navigator floundered in shock while Brawl resurfaced with a complacent look on his face and washed his neck while scanning the sky cautiously. "That looks like fun! Wait for me Brawl!"
In Onslaught's peripheral vision, Vortex dropped his phone, knocked Swindle into the river, and belly flopped next to the two wading combaticons. The younger comrade began a series of wing slap splashes on the former tank who tried reaching for the interrogator's collar; a rogue wave crashed into Swindle who angrily entered the comotion and returned fire.
"Hehehe, challenger three has joined!"
"Cut it out Vortex!" snarled the tank. Another splash surged at him but he dodged it and Blastoff, who was trying to stumble back to shore, took the full hit.
"Make me!"
"I SAID KNOCK IT OFF!" Brawl charged but the waist deep water reduced his momentum and Vortex easily back stroked out of the way. The red head continued to try to catch him but he easily launched and swam out of harm's way. Brawl ducked under the surface for a second and emerged with a fist sized stone.
"ENOUGH, YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE OUR POSITION AWAY YOU GLITCH!" Vortex gave a few mock dodges before springing to the side, the sailing stone clipped Swindle, who had been behind him, in the shoulder.
Brawl wiped his face with a sleeve and trudged to the shore and just scowled at the ingate. Onslaught never thought he'd see the day when Brawl backed down from a fight. The combaticon commander had brushed off the warrior's silent behavior earlier for him being in shock of the circumstances but this, this was out of character.
"I'm out," spat the former Jeep, nursing his shoulder, and waded to Blastoff, who shivered on the gravel like a nearly drowned cat. With the loss of his two opponents, Vortex flopped on his back and let the hebetudinous river carry him.
Maybe it was their new unfortunate forms, or the heat, or that they were originally dysfunctional that caused the increase in disputes; but, Onslaught was grateful that they had seem to burn themselves out. But what Swindle's did next threw him off guard.
"What in the pit are you DOING?"
"Cooling off and staying hydrated," said the con artist, between slurps of water in his cupped hands.
"That is revolting!"
"I don't like it anymore than you but we have to stoop to this level. Do you remember the humans in the middle east having to frequently consume water? It's necessary for survival, especially in extreme heat."
"Yes yes," the combaticon commander agreed but wasn't ready to accept the fact that they all would have to conform to these degrading organic needs. Maybe a cool down and a refueling would ease tensions. "Lads, take an intermission, make sure to get some water in you and then we're heading out."
Swindle removed his cell phone from his jacket, shook the water from it, and grumbled in question if it had short circuited. Brawl sulked on the embankment; Onslaught figured now would be the best time to confront him about his behavior. The heavy weapons expert shifted his gaze from his commander under his eyebrows, "WUT" came a low growl.
"Stay in your seat, we're having a discussion," he lowered himself on an adjacent rock.
Brawl's eyes swayed from side to side, "Why, I haven't caused massive amounts of damage, or loud outbursts."
"Yes, I have noticed and have observed you since you woke up. We are not ourselves of course," Onslaught gestured to his physical form, "but I don't think it would have as extensive of an impact on you personality wise."
The former tank's eyes glazed over.
Onslaught heaved a sigh, "Brawl you're acting quiet, cautious, and while I don't want to complain too much, you've been agreeable as of late. I expected you to scream and smash objects when you realized that you were in a human body. You have been the only one who seems to accept the circumstances."
Brawl paused with his mouth slacked in thought before slowly saying, "Since being revived from the detention center, this is the third body I've been thrown into. First, my personality component gets crammed into a tank carcass by Starscream, then Swindle dumps it in a scrap yard where three young fleshlings stuff me in their experimental robot with their greasy paws for a 'science fair' whatever the slag that is, and now this.'
'In the brats' lab I ended up summoning the Autobots. Being in a new body, with no weapons, that's being chased by your worst enemy, you tell me if you could keep your cool. Then Swindle blind sides me on a corner and rips my personality component out. It was just slagging awful! I've had Megatron smash my face plates before and it didn't hurt as much as what Swindle did. I figured if I kept quiet in this new body the Autobots wouldn't show up and cause a ruckus with us ending up dead.'
'Also, I remember being uncomfortably shoved the other two times, this one, I just onlined like this, no weird transition. I got my body back last time, I know I'll get it back again; I'd just like the transition to be as nice when I got this one."
Both of Onslaught's eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline, this was the highest level of cognitive thinking Brawl had ever performed, he didn't even know the meche… err man had the mental capacity. And yet he envied the tank's confident assurance that he was going to get his body back.
"This is Swindle's fault, right? You'll make the pip squeak fix this."
Onslaught paused in an attempt to make his statement idiot proof, "As angry as I still am at him for what he did to all of us, I know he did not cause this. Is this why you have been taking any of your frustrations out on him personally? I saw you give up on nailing Vortex with that rock and aim for him and you were too eager to bully him into cooperating earlier."
His answer came in a dejected grunt and no eye contact.
"His past actions still keep me on alert; and, I question the extent of his financial assistance to us, but further injuring and alienating him won't do us any favors."
"Meaning?"
Onslaught's eyes caught Brawl's, "He is still a Combaticon, make sure he behaves as a good soldier and doesn't commit further treason. If he does," his voice dropped further, "you send him to me; and, when we have our metal forms back, rip off one of his legs if you like. It will be easy to reattach then. Understood?"
"Sir," acknowledged Brawl.
Onslaught internally pat himself on the back. He had one of his cadets loyally taking orders and an another would contribute to ensure his continued existence. That left half of the team, if he could figure what Blastoff's malfunction was he could convince the shuttle to help, if it worked towards getting his previous form back. Which left the glitch.
His focus slipped from his thoughts to the unhinged combaticon now backstroking upstream to the gravel bridge, spraying water like a fountain from his mouth. Vortex's specs should come with the warning label "Does not play well with others" no scratch that "Keep away from open flames and karaoke machines". Normally he'd keep the degenerate in check by revoking his 'toys' or keeping him grounded, rebuking had no effect. Now, Vortex had nothing tying him down other than his rotors were absent. It was entirely possible that Vortex's sense of 'fun' could very well land them in a human prison. Currently his antics were nothing but his usual gimmicks to irritate his team, but that could change without warning. He'd figure something out.
Onslaught's concentration shifted again when his eyes caught movement from Brawl. The former tank now repeated the same motions as Swindle by drawing water from the river. A lump manifested in his throat that fought back when he tried to swallow it. He heaved a sigh, this was going to be awful, bad enough with Vortex swimming in it. His hands mimicked what the other two combaticons had done, slowly he brought the water to his lips. It was cool and refreshing to his parched throat but…. he couldn't put his finger on it. Odd, the fleshy muscle in his mouth could distinguish certain flavors of what he ingested. Not as sophisticated as the chemical analyzer in his old form but remarkably functional. His tongue traced the bits of flavor off his teeth. It was briney, bitter, and mouth drying. He took another sip and grimace; a few more handfuls were all he could bear before gagging.
The silence stretched until Swindle broke it.
"We should have a plan before we enter town to not stand as outcasts or drawn attention," he said, shielding his eyes from the sun's rays.
Onslaught replied gruffly, "We should be more concern about us being able to reach town, I did a pace count on the distance we've covered and we still have roughly 27 miles left in this heat."
There was a collective groan among the team.
Vortex raised his hand for a split second, "I vote we hitchhike," before submerging it back under the river. Brawl swung his up in agreement, Onslaught shrugged, and Blastoff nodded vacantly. Only Swindle wore a disapproving face, "We'll be dealing with a human, we'll need a plan even sooner, a backstory."
"Our car broke down and we need a ride into town, sounds good enough, should be simple for a compulsive liar such as yourself to fill in the cracks," said Vortex.
Swinde's frown creased further, "And what shall I call you? Our names don't exactly blend in; unless, you've adopted an alternative persona for identification. Mine's 'Carlos' if you check those plastic cards."
"Carlos? AHAHAHA like car lost, cause you're not a Jeep anymore AHAHA HOFFF," Vortex's laughter reduced his buoyancy and he sunk, only to resurface wheezing and sputtering.
"Slag, first you hide your business, now we find out you've created an alternative identity for said business, you're a glutton for punishment," said Brawl.
Swindle leered at him, "I doubt you could create a suitable human name so we'll call you Tony," he continued before Brawl could object, "Blastoff will be Milton..."
"I'm having no part in this," growled the navigator, "I will not stoop so low as to adopt a human name chosen by you. However, I will allow myself to be called James on occasion. It's somewhat regal sounding."
Everyone gave a visible shrug before Vortex fell backwards on the river bank and declaratively shot a finger in the air, "Hehehehe Tex is still a suitable nickname among humans but I guess I'll go with mmmmnnnn... Travis."
"Since when do you know any human names and why that?!" asked Swindle.
Vortex grinned at him upside down, "I hear Brawl scream 'KILL HIM TRAVIS!' when he is watching the fleshling sports, also it sounds almost like travisity. Travis Travisity!" He laughed and choked at his own joke, or if it could be called one.
Swindle shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Which leaves..."
"Ceasar."
"What?"
"I wish to go by Caesar," stated Onslaught.
A collective "NO!" rang out that visibly ruffled the commander's feathers.
"Then Alexander."
"NO!"
"Ulysses."
"NO!"
"MacArthur."
"Quit taking names of famous generals and make one of your own!"
"How about Stalin," yelled Swindle
Laughter erupted from all but the leader who snubbed his nose in the air, "I don't know any others."
Vortex twiddled his fingertips and began cackling, "Oh I know of one, Rory."
Onslaught crossed his arms and gave an indignant huff, "Is that even a normal human name? If so, I believe that name would suit Brawl more than me."
"Too late, Tony already has a name, your's is Rory because you can make an equal amount of racket if your precious plan goes awry," the devilish smile returning to his features.
Onslaught scrutinized the interrogator's remark and the snickers reverberating from his troop. "ENOUGH! Intermission is over, get a last drink and move out!"
After leaving the mesas' valleys, the land became flat as if it were a golden lime sea. Endless miles of featureless, grassy wilderness abyss stretched before them, with an occasional telephone pole and barbed wire fence. The road shifted from dirt to an asphalt highway spanning east and west that brought supplemental grief as the asphalt reflected the heat on the ground into the surrounding air.
Breaths turned ragged and clothes soaked; their delirious steps brought them to a shallow bridge crossing a dried creek bed. Vortex waved the team to the minute amount of shade it offered and pressed his face and arms against the cooler concrete foundation. While no water flowed, the damp soil on the bottom offered relief to their heated skin and bodies. The battered panting among them relaxed as the cooler breeze whipped under the bridge.
"Ons we need a new plan, we can't keep going like this; I've seen less desolate lunar surfaces" panted Swindle.
"No one here by that name, you mean Rory?" piped Vortex.
"Shut up fragger, it's too slagging hot for jokes!"
"Tsk, shouldn't we get use to our human names, they're necessary for blending in with the fleshlings."
Onslaught wiped his brow, "We still have 24 miles left."
A load collective groan resounded under the bridge.
"I vote we hitchhike, I don't think we can last on foot much longer, Brawl doesn't look good," said Vortex between pants.
Onslaught and Swindle turned to notice the broadly built man sweating profusely and clenching his jaw.
"Eh Brawl, you feeling okay you.."
Brawl wearly raised his head to reply before a foul liquid concoction erupted from him in a thick stream. "FRAG TO THE PIT AND BACK! What in Primus is that!" screamed someone. The once delirious group now scrambled wide awake.
"I have no idea! It smells awful, is that acid? Is this some human defense mechanism, is this even normal for humans!" screamed Swindle in panic through a pinched nose.
"Don't ask me, you're the human expert!" shrieked Vortex scrabbling backwards on all fours.
"HUMAN CULTURES, NOT BIOLOGY!"
"I think I'm going to be sick..."
Panic and confusion swept through the gestalt team, "Everyone settle down, Brawl ceasefire," said Onslaught trying to maintain a modicum of control over the situation.
"Sorry Sir, seems to be back fire," he retched another wave of river remains from his stomach. This prompted a chain reaction as now Vortex and Swindle joined the underpass garden of human sculpture fountains in agony.
Their leader just gave up, the whole scene was bizarre, the stagnant heat made him feel ill, and his system squirmed at the sight of them. 'Oh dear, no no… no no. NO!' His abdomen churned as something rose to his throat. 'Slag it!' He joined the mayhem. A bewildered Blastoff scrabbled to the edge of the shelter and trembled in place as a sour stench permeated from under the bridge. The underpass rang with men tossing their cookies, agonized heaving, and Vortex's occasionally cry, "It came out of my nose".
The sniper didn't dare to peer toward his teammates until the racket under the bridge subsided to low wheezes. In the shadows, four men slumped carelessly in a daze. Brawl wiped the residue from his face, "What the slag happened?" His answer came in half assed shrugs from everyone. "I don't know," said Swindle "but whatever water I had in my system is now gone."
Blastoff called out, "Where did you find water?"
The arms dealer sat up in an annoyed glare, "Back at the stream, didn't you refuel?" The navigator shook his head. "Figures," the merchant rolled his eyes and plopped his head back on the ground.
"Well excuse me for not consuming questionable water."
Vortex peeled himself from the cool concrete, "Ons, we really need to hitchhike, we can't continue on in this heat."
The combaticon leader groggily nodded his head in agreement.
"Face it," whined the con artist, "We haven't seen anything out here, not a single vehicle on this road; we're going to die out here. Die in foreign human bodies, no one will ever know what became of us."
"You don't know that…"
"What! You think fortune is going to shine on us and a truck will miraculously stop, giving us time to climb abroad and quisk us off to…"
A deep vibration rumbled from the ground, it sent the red shale shavings littering the floor into a clatter. The hum of a diesel engine and squeaky axles whisked overhead, but a loud screech and crash stopped a few yards from where they hid.
The five hastily clambered up to the road. Pulled over on the side of the asphalt was a pick-up truck hauling a rusty, stock trailer full of cattle. The driver and his passenger darted out towards the hood, something about hitting one of the local wildlife.
"Good enough for me and they don't need to know," said Vortex as he slinked to the back of the trailer and squeezed through the bars. The others followed him in quick pursuit, except Blastoff. He ended up being dragged by his sleeve and clumsily forced on.
Multiple curious, black eyes watched them settle on the hay cover floor, but resumed their more interesting activity of munching the hay bags when no treats were offered. Vortex slithered to the closest one; the steer twisted its head towards him as far as its tethered halter offered and stretched out its tongue. The decepticon reached two fingers out and stroked it. The animal promptly retracted the muscle and dug it into one moisty, mucused nostril before tucking it back in its mouth. "Ewwww," he grimaced and wiped the saliva drenched appendages in the fur of the steer's flank.
"Hey Swindle, why do humans keep these things anyway?"
A annoyed sigh escaped the arms dealer, "Why are you asking me these questions?"
"You brag that you know humans, live up to the claim."
Swindle rolled his eyes, "There is some kind of industry focused on them but I'm not exactly sure for what." He stretched his legs in the soft bedding, "They didn't particularly suit an immediate use for me so I never investigated the market."
The interrogator continued to stroke the soft fur, it gently tickled and pillowed his palm.
"Why would humans have a market for these? They don't look too bright for training or defending themselves," said Brawl.
"If their dumb then they'd be the perfect companion for you," grinned Vortex, oblivious to the backside of one of the cows right behind him.
"I'd watch it if I were you."
"Hmpf, what are you going to do about it?"
"No not me, the one behind you."
The steer behind the decepticon at that moment had lifted its tail and began unloading its bowels. Vortex squawked as some spattered on his back and he skidded a seat next to his teammates, giving a disgusted shiver. "Serves you right."
Swindle and Brawl cachinnated while Onslaught's stoic expression threatened to crack a smirk but all that screeched to a halt as their noses took a whiff.
"Slag that is rancid! Humans certainly can't keep them for the smell." More cows began lifting their tails; the four diverted their eyes from the scene to the back where Blastoff huddled near the trailer's gate. Exhaustion seemed to have overcome him and his obsessive need for cleanliness, for he dozed on his side with his hip in a wet, cow pie. All tried to hold their laughter but it was too much, even Onslaught shook with a chuckle. A cell phone flashed, capturing the blackmail for a future date. The muffled snickers and laughs soon died till the only sounds came from the rattling of the trailer and munching of the bovines, with the intermittent pawing of a bored hoof.
"Sooo," began Brawl, "How long till we reach the town?"
Onslaught stretched his shoulder, "With the rate we're going, I'd say four breems. I'd rest up, we'll need it before entering human society." He seemed to relax his guard a smidge as the rest of his men hunkered down and closed their eyes.
Swindle splayed his jacket over him and tucked his nose in the collar to keep the assault of the methane at bay. Despite the wavering uncertainty of a new body and dirty bedding, he felt himself drift off with the sway of the ride.
Two hands roughly shook him from his sleep.
"Swindle, wake up!" hissed Vortex in a low whisper.
"Hmmm whuuuuuttt?" he groggily replied.
"Swindle, we have to make a break for it!" the copter's voice gaining urgence.
"What is your malfunction Vortex," he drooped his head back in the hay, just about to slip into his subconscious again.
"The driver spotted me near his cows, I think….,"
The trailer immediately slammed into the back of the braking truck. The animals' uproared their displeasure as they staggered for footing against their halter restraints; the now awake combaticons were flung across the trailer floor.
A barely distinguishable, "Combaticons, run for it" came over the cacophony of moos.
"What the slag did you do Vortex!" said Swindle as he snatched his jacket and scurried on his belly under flying hooves and contaminated, airborne bedding.
Brawl flung the back gate open and screamed, "You really slagging messed up this time Vortex!"
"I know, I know, I have an idea just run for it," he retreated further into the masses of angry fur.
Upon exiting the trailer the other four could hear the cycling of a pump action shotgun as the driver and his passenger charged from the cab. Onslaught nudged Swindle forward to negotiate, but the former jeep backed down and hid behind Blastoff.
"I said run you idiots!" shouted from the inside of the trailer.
They were about to protest until multiple tons of unprocessed hamburger stampeded towards them. The four bolted off like a herd of antelope, Onslaught hooked Blastoff by the elbow and yanked him over as a highly spirited steer trampled by. A single shot fired over their heads. Vortex barreled through the chaos and soon ran ahead of the group. "Keep going!"
The combaticons sped across the prairie until they reached a small cluster of trees that were far out of sight from the earlier excitement. It seemed the rancher had chose not to follow them and to try to wrangle his disbanded cattle.
"Yahoooooo what a rush, I certainly enjoyed that, I feel so alive! What about you guys?" Vortex's answer came in the sounds of bodies plummeting on the ground and ragged gasps. "Awww come on guys it wasn't that bad." A slag eating grin adorned his face as he turn towards them, only to welcome Onslaught's fist.
AHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHA! Too rich, never would he have believed the amount of sheer amusement he'd benefit from watching these former robots bumble in their new bodies. Such a diverse group of temperaments forced to work as a unit; he would enjoy needling them for reactions. The amusement captured him so much he almost forgot why they were human in the first place. His glee made his mind float off into the sky sometimes. But no, they had a purpose for him.
The 'stoic' one, though he was aware, he doubted his senses. But he would believe in time. He needed him to believe if he was ever going to extract what he desired from this group. The 'playful' one, oh he was going to have the most fun entering his dreams; he gave him a small applaud on his observation earlier at the cairn, intuitive he'd remember that. The other three had yet to show him potential, although the 'tallest' one raised some concern. That one's behavior seemed not to stem from the difficulty of mentally accepting his new body. No, something was physically wrong with him; something he would figure out later at night.
Under his watchful eye they were surviving well, if things got too dire for them he'd intervene with a light touch, couldn't have them dead, they would be no use to him. Yes things were falling into place, just one last cog to throw into his plan and it would be set. He glared out into the distance at a town he could not see from his perch but knew it stood many miles further.
"Tex, do you know the little voice in your head that tells you to stop if something is a bad idea? No, YOU DON'T BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE ONE!" shrieked Swindle.
"I was merely petting the cows when the driver spotted me, I wasn't mistreating them or shoving their neighbors' tail up their nose."
"It doesn't matter what you were doing, you got us caught and now we don't have a ride to town; on top of that, the truck turned down a dirt back road, so we don't even know which direction the town is."
"Hey, I saved your afts by making a distraction. But did I ever hear a thank you? Noooooooooooooooooo, just a suckerpunch to the face."
"Tex hush," groaned Brawl, "We're hot and lost again and it's thanks you."
Vortex gave him a dangerous squint, "Should of let them pump you full of lead." The red head made a lunge for the glitch from his seat, but Swindle attempted to hold him back by his shoulders. The unhinged combaticon merely waved a lazy foot at the offending hands.
Swindle rolled his eyes, "What the slag am I doing, this is Onslaught's job." He released the the former tank and dusted his pants as he rose. "I don't care what Onslaught's plan is, I'm just going to search for the road and follow it, I should bump into something. Good luck to the rest of you," he gave a mock salute to Brawl who wrestled Vortex in a tight choke hold while repeatedly punching him.
The former tank bolted from the nearly asphyxiated interrogator who gasped "Harder daddy" and chased after his leg counterpart. "Whoa! Get back, you're not ditching us, the unit is stronger if we stick together.."
"It'll be difficult to survive the fleshling world, but better than succumbing to the natural elements with you morons, I'm not tactican but I know that at certain times it's better to act than plan."
The argument between Bruticus's legs attracted Onslaught from his brainstorm to their bickering, "And what makes you think you can find the highway and from that you'll find civilization?"
Swindle straightened his posture in defiance at his leader, "None of your decisions have paid off well for us, admit it. You have no idea what you are doing as a human and could very likely get us killed!"
"Swindle, regardless of your feelings, no one is disbanding from my team."
"Then make better decisions as a leader, you've done a poor job so far."
Vortex suddenly sprung from the ground, "You guys hear that?"
His teammates eyed him in annoyance or confusion.
"No really, it's an odd beating sound that's getting louder." He wandered just outside of their hiding place, the other three following him. "It's odd, sounds like something heavy is makAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH" The rest of group reached the edge of the trees in just as a large mass skidded to a halt and slammed Vortex to the ground.
A skewbald pinto reared, front hooves flailing wildly, ears flat against its neck, and its teeth bared. Vortex rolled away just in time as the hooves crashed where he lay earlier. The equine neighed and thrashed its legs while its head fought against the reins of its master, who was jerking them in an attempt to gain control over the spooked animal.
"What the slag!" Vortex scrambled in front of Onslaught; who remained frozen beside Brawl and Swindle.
The rider seemed to gain the upper hand on its mount as the wild bucks faltered, allowing the four a better look at the stranger. A brown, wide brimmed Akubra had shadowed the face but now, they could see strands of long, dusty blonde hair encompass a horrified face painted with freckles on the cheeks and nose. The girl's complexion paled as she made direct eye contact with Onslaught. With trembling arms, she yanked her horse's head in the opposite direction from them, gave a swift kick of the heel to its flanks, and cracked the reins. As abruptly as the scene appeared, it ended with the animal quickly speeding across the flat grassland, its tail waving farewell.
"Whaaa…..Wha…..What happened," stuttered Brawl.
Swindle wobbled his head in disbelief, "Our chance to commit horse theft? How many more odd occurrences are going to happen today because….. Onslaught?" The combaticon leader marched passed them in the direction the horse retreated. "Onslaught where are you going? You said earlier we need to formulate a plan before leaving this place!"
The decepticon officer paused to glance back, "Round up Blastoff and deploy out."
"Whoa wait, I understand following the horse but they're far out of sight, how do we know if they fled in a straight line?"
His commander gave an unamused look and pointed to the ground at the horse's tracks.
Thanks for reading, I hope you got a kick out of this, and as always reviews are never taken for granted.