Chapter five: To Release A Warlock
"Let's go Grub," John said. "I suppose Butler and Holly already took care of Sool."
Something inside John's helmet beeped. "Pick up," he said into the helmet mike clearly.
"Hello?" the gruff voice on the other end said. "Captain Oak? This is Private Weed."
John sighed with relief. "So you've escaped already. I didn't expect Qwan to succeed this quickly."
"Qwan?" asked Private Weed. "Who's that?"
"He's the warlock who…saved you," John said hesitantly. He narrowed his brown eyes. "With the runes on the forehead."
"What warlock?"
Suddenly, John's heartbeat began to speed up and he started sweating. "D'arvit," breathed John.
"Why can't you use magic, Qwan?" N° 1 asked. "We are warlocks, aren't we?"
"That was a stupid joke, N° 1," Qwan sighed. "Besides, magic couldn't help us here. I suppose Koboi assigned the toughest demons the job of guarding us. I doubt we're going to live through this whole thing."
"Um," N° 1 said hesitantly, "I might think twice about that." Qwan listened. Sure enough, something was rattling the door.
Two minutes ago
"That should be the cell, Corporal," John whispered. "It's the only one that's guarded."
"I don't know about this," Grub whined. "Violence doesn't solve anything. Maybe we should talk this out."
"Talk this out? With a pair of dumb demons?"
"Sure. We don't have to fight. Fighting just makes things worse."
John took off his helmet and brushed a strand of long brown hair out of his face. He put his helmet back on. "Yeah," he said. "You're right. Fighting just makes things worse. And if we do pick a fight with these Hulk wanna-be's we'll probably have a very slim chance of surviving."
"That's right."
"But," John continued, drawing his Neutrino 3000, "if we try to talk with them, we'll have no chance of surviving." With that he stepped into full view.
"Wait!" Grub hissed at his superior officer, but it was too late.
"Hey, you big dumb animals," John taunted. "Come and get me you under-grown, hairless trolls."
One demon tried lunging angrily at the Captain but the other held him back. He seemed to be saying something like, "he's just taunting. Don't pay attention," in the demon language.
"C'mon, ugly," John said. "What's wrong? You scared?"
The demon growled and narrowed his close-set eyes.
"What do you think your girlfriend would think if she saw you like this? On second thought, I don't think your mommy would like you to be fighting itsy-bitsy elves that can't fight back without a big bad gun."
The demon roared and jumped at John. He was too slow, though. John easily side-stepped him.
"Come one, big guy," he laughed. "You gotta do better than that to nail me." Even though the elfin captain appeared fearless, and brave, he was really shaking in his boots. He knew that if he stopped making jokes and fooling the demon and himself, he'd probably pee in his pants. John aimed his gun at the demon, but didn't get a chance to shoot. The demon grabbed at the weapon but Captain Oak was too fast. But he knew he couldn't keep it up for long.
Again he aimed the weapon at the demon's forehead. He pulled the trigger. With a snarl, the demon coincidentally bent down to prepare to spring at the elf. Instead, the bullet-like beam hit the other demon. He was unconscious immediately.
"Oops," John said, "my bad. Oh well. One down, one to go. Come and get me, lummox." The grey-skinned fairy growled and leaped at the elf. This time, John couldn't dodge. The demon pinned him to the floor. "Get off me, you oaf!" said John, his teeth clenched. He punched the demon in the face, but with the demon's size and strength, he hardly felt it. All John got was a hurt hand.
"Grub!" he shouted at his comrade. "Open the door! Rescue the warlocks."
"But—" Grub stammered.
"Go!"
Grub obeyed and he carefully tiptoed past the elf and demon fight while John threw punch after punch at the demon's face.
"Hey!" The demon roared as he caught sight of Grub. "Where are you going, little man?" He let go of Captain Oak to tend to the corporal. That gave John the opportunity he needed. In a matter of seconds, John aimed his Neutrino 3000, pulled the trigger, and shot the demon unconscious.
"Thank you," Grub said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"No problem," replied John, dusting off his hands. "Ugh, I think my arm's broken. That stupid demon. He's too heavy." Blue sparks swirled around John's arm. It was healed immediately. "There goes the last of my magic. Who knows when I'm going to need it next?" Then, he ran at the cell door and hit it hard. BAM!
"C'mon, Private," John said. "Help me!" Captain Oak rammed his body against the door.
"I dunno," muttered Grub. "I might get my uniform dirty. Are you sure they're in there?"
"No," John admitted. "But help me here. This is the," BAM! He rammed his body against the door again, "third cell we've tried. One of them," BAM! "should be it."
"Uh, well, I guess I should help," he looked at the frustrated Captain. "For goodness sake, stop it. You're going to hurt yourself."
John scowled at the Private. "You got a better plan?"
"Yes," Grub said. He walked up to the door, pulled a piece of wire from a compartment on his belt and lock picked the lock open. He smiled and pocketed the piece of wire. "It comes in handy when I want to open something secret at my grandparents' house."
John smiled and shook his head. "Anyone ever tell you you're a genius, Grub?"
"Not directly, but I get the picture."
"How are they?" Lauryn nagged back at the ops booth. "What's happening?"
"Honestly, mud girl," Foaly groaned, "I don't know why we keep you around."
"Shut up, pony-boy. Tell me what's happening."
Foaly looked at the monitors. "Sool and the lead demon have been arrested. John and Grub have released the warlocks. According to Mulch's iris ca—hold it! The warlocks were captured?"
"What happened to the rest of the officers?" Lauryn asked.
Foaly trotted across the booth to a wall of television screens and sighed. "They're enjoying their coffee in the staff rec room."
"Oh." After a minute or so she said, "What's going to happen to Allayne, Bryan and me?"
Foaly swiveled around in his chair to face the teenage girl. He leaned his elbows on his hairy, horse knees. "Mind wiping is the only option."
"Mind wipes? Are you sure? Can't there be another choice?"
"No," said Foaly. "Sorry."
"Let's think about this. My friends and I, we can keep secrets," Lauryn protested. "In sixth grade, I had this humongo crush on this cutie in my English class and Bryan and Allayne found out and even now, no one knows! Not even the cutie!"
"Lauryn," Foaly sighed, "think seriously. This is much more important than a crush at school. Telling a single person could mean the end of the People. Look how easily your friend Bryan found out."
Lauryn was silent. There was nothing to say. He had a point.
Anyone think my going to writing camp this summer has improved my writing? I NEED OPINIONS!!!