by HP Mallory
She turned her head back around, leaving me to hope for the best.
I touched the runes with my left hand. “Donnchadh, I free you to take control of my body and defend us from this attacker,” I said aloud. Right after the runes flashed, a surge of anger and power flooded into me from top to bottom.
The first thing my heightened senses detected was our flier adopting a higher altitude. Donnchadh wanted to leap at him straightaway but he didn’t. Like a truly skilled hunter, he waited for just the right moment.
The second the plane emerged from the clouds, Donnchadh launched himself and me from the Fury’s back, vaulting us right over the plane’s spinning blades.
The pilot had just enough time to look startled before both my feet slammed into his chest like twin battering rams. I felt the soft cushion of his leather jacket absorb some of the blow.
Most of the pilot’s face was covered by his leather helmet and his big goggles but his jaw and throat were completely exposed. Donnchadh drove my right fist straight through his helmet until I made contact with his jaw, spilling blood onto the silk scarf around his neck. The leather strap of his helmet came undone and I slapped the thing off him entirely, watching as it fell out of the plane and disappeared into the dark sky.
The sloppy punch made the lower knuckles of my hand throb. The pilot wasn’t too wild about the punch either, if the stubby pistol he pulled from his belt was any indicator. My resident psycho spirit slapped the gun out of his gloved hand, dropping it back into the cockpit. That was followed by another set of punches to the pilot’s face.
After that, my hands wrapped around the pilot’s throat and started choking the life out of him. That roused him damn near instantly, making him pull my hands away as he struggled to break Donnchadh’s grip. But Tallis’s former companion refused to be denied.
I felt the pilot weakening with each passing second, his tongue bulging out of his mouth at an odd angle. His face went completely red.
A harsh shriek of metal behind us broke Donnchadh’s concentration. We turned around to see pieces of the propeller flying right at us. Donnchadh barely ducked the metal carnage in time before some of it hit the tail of the plane with a sickening crunch.
When I looked up again, I caught a glimpse of my Fury making a hairpin turn to catch up with the plane from behind. My fear of imminent death surged and I felt the warrior spirit getting pushed back into his cage. No matter how much he raged over the indignity, the power created by the runes held firm.
“Nein!” the pilot shrieked in a heavy German accent, reaching around my slim form to grab the control stick.
My ample breasts, however, impeded his progress, which made the situation awkward in more ways than one. My pet flying monster started dive-bombing after us but quickly vanished in the cloud cover while the plane picked up speed on its way down.
The pilot looked up at me in a controlled panic. “I beg you, fraulein, give me leave to land this plane. It is doubtful either of us will survive otherwise.”
Scrunching myself as close against him as I could, I put my head to his right side and hissed, “Do it!”
I ignored my discomfort when my breasts were unceremoniously flattened as the pilot struggled to pull the control stick upward.
We gradually leveled off right before hitting the ground with a hard jolt. That was followed by several more bone-wracking thrusts forward and back while the wheels rolled across the uneven terrain. We abruptly came to a slamming stop when we hit something and then both of us were pitched into either side of the cockpit. The pilot flew right into me, his head ramming into my chest. Pain enveloped me and I had to wonder if he’d crushed my lungs because I was finding it near impossible to breathe.
As to the pilot, I couldn’t say if he was alive or dead. All we could do for the next few seconds was just lie there motionless.
I don’t know if it was Donnchadh or the Self, but I managed to shake off my shock first. Taking a deep breath, I sat up and tried to ignore the burning in my lungs. After another few seconds, though, the burning subsided and I could stand.
Doing so, I unsheathed my sword and placed it directly under the pilot’s chin. The tip of the blade was sharp enough to make him lift his head and look at me.
So he wasn’t dead. Good for him. Of course, seeing as how he was in The Underground City, it probably followed that he wasn’t alive to begin with.
Not so good for him.
“If you want some advice,” I started. “It’s in your best interest to cooperate with me.”
The pilot raised his hands without hesitation. “I could not agree more, fraulein. Please accept my unconditional surrender.”
I raised an eyebrow at him and carefully crouched down in the cockpit, my sword still under his jawline. I’d expected more of a fight and I told him as much.
Keeping his hands raised, the flying ace shrugged. “And what purpose would such a struggle serve? You have proven yourself my superior in hand-to-hand combat. You are also armed while I am not. I have no allies I can call upon at this time. And, most importantly, you allowed me the trust and time to land my Fokker safely. When I consider all these things, surrender is the only logical conclusion.”
I squinted as I felt around the cockpit floor. “Fokker?” I repeated, subduing the desire to make a crack about milking a cat. But, I held the desire in check. Yay me.
A sheepish smile cropped up on the pilot’s face. “Entschuldigung, fraulein. We are currently occupying a Fokker DR-I triplane, my personal flying machine of choice.”
My fingers finally located the pistol he’d dropped and I stood back, pointing it at his head while keeping my sword in place. “For whatever it’s worth, sorry about wrecking it.”
The smile turned from apologetic to understanding. “I assure you no apologies are necessary. If a pilot and his passengers are able to walk away from a landing, I deem it a successful one.”
I couldn’t help smiling at that. “So this isn’t the first plane you’ve wrecked?”
He gave me a knowing chuckle. “Nor the second… but may I make a small request?”
“As long as you don’t ask me to set you free, I’ll consider it.”
“Nein, nein, nein, nothing so obvious. I merely ask that we exit this plane so that we can carry on this conversation in a slightly more comfortable location.”
I pulled the sword back but kept the pistol aimed at his head. “You first… and exit slowly, keeping your hands clasped behind your head.”
He nodded and did as he was told. With his hands atop his head, he had a hard time exiting the plane using just his legs but he managed it. Even as he jumped to the ground, his hands never left his head for an instant. When I reached the ground, I sheathed my sword and jabbed the gun into his side so he wouldn’t get any ideas. In the meantime, I took a quick glance at our surroundings.
The gray skies were accented by the outline of wrecked buildings around us. This had once been a city like Dis, albeit with more European-styled architecture. But now most of it was no more than smashed rubble and teetering walls. Distant and not-so-distant fires dotted the landscape like incompetent mockeries of street lights. While nothing in the Underground City could ever be classified as “safe,” this area screamed war zone.
The pilot noticed me surveying our immediate area. “The morgue is not a very comforting sight, I know. I much prefer to see it from the air whenever possible.”
I put my back against his plane as I listened for imminent threats. Then I faced the pilot again. He seemed to be familiar enough with this place that I figured he might be able to answer a question. “How dangerous is it down here?”
He opened his mouth to answer but a sudden cry from the sky cut him off. My Fury landed in front of us with suprising grace. A few seconds later, a flock of her sisters did the same, surrounding us on all sides. The Furies turned as one towards my prisoner and made threatening noises, snapping their teeth in his direction like overly famished dogs.
I
yelled at them, “Knock it off!”
To their credit, every one of the birdbrains backed off in a hurry. None of them made a move as I walked around the pilot to face him. I gestured at his head with the pistol. “Take off the googles.”
“Of course,” he replied, slowly lowering his hands from his head. He moved just as slowly when it came to peeling off his headgear. Maybe he didn’t want to spook me?
When he removed the goggles, I was pleasantly surprised by the look of his face. It had a certain appeal to it. Rounded to the point of appearing as though he were in his thirties, his features included a large pair of pale eyes whose color I couldn’t make out, a nicely shaped nose and broad lips. His nondescript dark hair was cropped as close to his skull as possible without appearing shaved. He was handsome.
He slowly allowed his goggles to slip through his leather-clad fingers until they hit the ground. All the while, he stared at me with the same expression I was probably giving him. After another few seconds, he cleared his throat.
“My apologies for gawking, fraulein, but you are… quite attractive.”
My Fury tried snapping at him from behind me. I leaned against her and scolded her loudly, “What did I just say?!”
She growled unhappily with the dressing down but backed off.
I faced the pilot. “No more flattery. You’re my prisoner and that’s the extent of our acquaintance.”
The pilot nodded in appreciation and smiled down at me. He was quite tall. “Apparently, I have just incurred another disadvantage, fraulein.”
“Which is?”
“Might I have the privilege of knowing the name of my captor?” With manners like that, you’d think he’d just asked me out for coffee.
“Lily… Lily Harper. And you are…?”
The pilot’s posture straightened a little at the question. “Kapitan Manfred Albrecht Freiherr Von Richtofen, of the Flying Circus under the command of Kaiser Wilhelm.”
I thought I’d heard something familiar in the jumble of names and titles he’d just rattled off. “Can you repeat that?”
He smiled and the smile turned into a quick laugh before he responded.
“Perhaps it would be easier to call me by another name.” He cleared his throat. “The Red Baron at your service, fraulein.”
“For yonder I behold a mist new-risen on the sandy plain.”
- Dante’s Inferno
FOUR
BILL
The elevator ride up seemed ta go on foreverly. It didn’t take me no time at all ta git bored.
It reminded me of this one time like three years ago when I was datenapping. That’s when you’re out on a date with some chick who’s yammering on and on about tampons or cats or some shit and you’re like so bored outta your head that you find yourself asleep with your eyes open.
This time I was even more bored ‘cause I didn’t have no girl to look at, just Conan. An’ it ain’t like you wanna hear more ‘bout Tido’s cats.
Lookin’ at Tido sucked a big hairy ball so I turned my attention to the cliff face of the rock we was elevatin’ up.
Now I get that there’s a good gap between the Underground City’s Circles but in the name of Ozzy, the Prince of Darkness, why did an ascent-spirational escape like this feel more like we was waitin’ in line at the DMV and we was number 654?
Still, one good thing I could say is that about halfway up—at least I think it was halfway up—the Freon-frozone of the Asylum finally calmed the fuck down. That allowed me to reducify the heat I was radiatin’ fer both me and the Yeti. One thing I never told nobody was how much of an exer-strain it was to serve as a master blaster furnace for the Divine Fire.
Maybe the archangels could pull it off with more grace. But yours truly could only channel that kind of holy-smokes wattage fer so long. Mainly ‘cause I was like super beyond tired and I also had to poo.
Conan was still lying on the heavy metal floor like it was a feather bed, with his eyes shutightedly and his breathing steady-Eddy. I couldn’t blame him. After what we’d just escaped from, he’d earned some down time.
I felt a fart come zippin’ out an’ it sounded like Dracula opening up his coffin. I looked over at Tido to see if he’d heard it but his eyes was still closed. I figured I had me a minute of fart lapse before Tido smelled it.
Not wantin’ to get all embarrassed, I pulled out my cell phone and hit the phone icon. Then I scrolled through my shit tons of contacts until I found the one for Polly and Sally. I hit the phone icon again and glanced over at Tido to see if he’d smelled Essence D’ Bill yet but he was still passed the fuck out.
Soze I paid attention to the dialing of the phone and that was when I realized I couldn’t hear no dialing of the phone. There weren’t no message, no dial tone, not even a freakin’ busy signal. I tried it again, but got the same results. That’s when the bright-bulb idea dawned on me to check the screen. Sure enough, the bars were completely x-ed out, which meant Verizon weren’t gonna hear me this deep down in hell.
I slammed my fist into the base o’ the lever and shouted, “Dammit!” And another fart zipped out.
I forgot how badly I’d tenderized my knuckles on the door earlier but the painage from the impact did a great job o’ reminding me. While I shook my hand in distractification, the universe’s hairiest Scotsman finally spoke up.
“Nae service, not this far down.”
I turned around to look at him but didn’t notice him sniffin’ the air all suspicious like. Shit, maybe Tido had allergies and his nose was all stuffed up. Lucky fer him ‘cause that one had been ripe.
“How long you been awake?” I asked.
He used his elbows to prop hisself up. “Ne’er went tae sleep.”
“You looked asleep.”
He shook his head and his nappy ass, long hair echoed the movement.
“There’s a place halfway twixt wakin’ an’ dreamin’ where ye can git the rest ye need without slippin’ into the oonconscious.”
“Can you get you some wet dreams in that place too?”
The yeti eyed me with an expression that said he weren’t sure what the hell’s I was going on about. Nevermind. I didn’t have the interest to go splainin’ the importance of beat time.
“If my phone don’t work, then how come those imp-tastic ass-wipes got ahold o’ Blondie on that laptop?”
He grunted a little, reminding me of a big ol’ hairy bear with a bad attitude an’ a stopped-up rear end. “Alaire would have made sure an internet connection existed ‘tween his minions an’ himself.”
I was surprised to hear the words “internet connection” comin’ from Tido’s mouth ‘cause Tido was like as old as the Dinosaurs I think.
“How d’ya even know what the internet is?”
His grunt this time was more alphatic. “Ah live in the Dark Wood, ye bloody dunderheid, nae in a cave.”
“Same damn thing.”
He rose up the rest of the way, stretching out his back and lifting his huge fists in the air. Once he set those extra-large mitts o’ his back down, he started scratching the rainforest o’ hair on his face. “Are… ye tryin’ tae reach Besom?”
I gestulated at the lever. “Uh, I thought we was on our way to findin’ Besom? Ain’t that why we’re in this contraption in the first place? You forget you heard her voice tellin’ you to head to the Morgue?” I eyed him for another second. “You got you some old-timer’s now or what?”
“Alzheimers, ye bloody scrote.”
“What’s a scrote?”
“Ah scrotum.”
I started laughing ‘cause that shit was downright funny. I couldn’t see past all the foliage on his face but I think he might have frowned.
“Ah meant the mobile phone, ye Jessie. Does Besom carry one wif her?”
“What the hell’s a Jessie again?” I demanded, eyeing him. Tido seems to think he’s like aces at comin’ up with names to call me but he really ain’t good at it ‘cause he ain’t got no sense of humor.
&
nbsp; “An effeminate man,” he said real disinterested like. “Does Besom have a mobile, man?”
I started scratching my cheek. “Nah, at least, not last time I saw her.”
“Then who were ye callin’?”
“The animal shelter.”
“Och aye,” he said and frowned at me. “The whit?”
“I was reportin’ the fact that I was stuck inside a slow-ass elevator with some kinda feral man-dog that looked more like the missin’ link.”
Tido glanced around hisself like he wasn’t sure where the man-dog was. Then he looked back at me with a frown.
“You, Conan, you’re the man-dog.”
He frowned. “Shut yer geggie, ye bloody lavvy head. Ye arenae foonny, ye howlin’ roaster.”
“Well, if you were speakin’ you some English, maybe I could make me a comment.”
“Ah called ye a toilet head an’ a smelly idiot.”
“Sticks an’ stones, Cro-Magnon Man, sticks an’ stones.” Then I took me a big breath an’ wondered if maybe Tido had smelled my fart yet? I mean, he did call me a smelly idiot. “I’m actually tryin’ ta reach a couple o’ babes I got an in with over at AE.”
Tido’s eyebrows rose, pushing up the shelf of hair above them. “Ye mean tae say that someone can actually stand tae listen tae ye?”
“Ha, ha, fucking ha… if it weren’t fer their inside info, you fugly nutsack, I’d never have found you at all.”
Conan raised up his hands like he was submittin’ to a pat-down from the po-po. “A bit o’ bad taste on me part. An’ fer that, Ah’m truly sorry, ye dobber. Ah sincerely am.”
I glared at him. “Was that a punchpology or was it a true one?”
“Ah what?”
“A punchpology. Like when you say you’re sorry for some lame shit you did but then you combine it with like a verbal punch so the person on the other end ain’t fully sure whether yer apology’s sincere or what.”
“Och, aye, ‘tis a sincere apology, ye baw.”
“Okay, well thanks then, Tido. Apology accepted.” I held out my fist so we could bro-fist bump an’ show that we was good with each other but then Tido couldn’t stop from laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked as I eyed him real narrow like.
