The Lightning Lords

by M C Rooney

  “So you understand the full story now?” Molly said with a pleading look as she walked alongside Tom and his horse.

  “Yes, of course.” Tom smiled back. “That Edward sounds like a complete jerk.”

  Not only had Tom experienced his first and only case of love at first sight, he had experienced his first pang of jealousy when he had heard that someone else had been holding her in his arms. Molly gave him a warm smile, which brought a flushed look to his face. Molly even found that attractive. Tom had sent Roland and Michelle south, as they were arguing for some unknown reason. Tom had advised Roland to seek out Bong. If Roland was into philosophy, as he said he was, the two of them should get along famously.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Jeremy said, “but what is the plan again?”

  “I’m going to go in there and get him,” replied Molly.

  “We are,” Tom corrected.

  “No, Tom,” Molly said gently. “I can disappear and run fast with my suit.”

  “But it could be dangerous,” Tom replied with worry.

  Molly smiled back at him. “I have lived with danger nearly all my life, Tom. I can do this; besides, the Professor knows me.”

  “He might not recognise you with your new hair,” Jeremy said with a small smile.

  “Do you want to be sent south as well, Jeremy?” Molly replied while running a hand through her hair.

  “New hair?” Tom asked in confusion.

  “Never mind,” Molly replied. God bless that hairdresser. If she had her old hair and welts on her face, Tom may never have looked at her twice.

  Suddenly, they reached a clear pasture, and Tom could actually see what was producing those masses of lightning in the sky.

  “Incredible,” he said as he caught his first glimpse of the tower.

  Molly looked over at Tom and smiled at the fascination on his handsome face. “I always took it for granted; I saw it every day,” she said.

  “It’s beautiful, Molly,” he said, “truly beautiful,” and he turned towards her and looked her in the eyes, then murmured the word “beautiful” once more.

  It was Molly’s turn to feel a strong flush creeping up her face.

  “Excuse me for interrupting again,” said Jeremy, who wasn’t enjoying being the third wheel in this company, “but wasn’t there supposed to be a large tribe here?”

  Molly and Tom looked at the outlying areas of the tower.

  “They’re gone,” Molly said in shock.

  “No; some are left over there to the east,” Tom said and turned to his horse’s saddlebag. Bringing out the spyglass, he could quite easily see bodies piled onto large fires and people wearing jackets and scarves over their mouths. Sam and his friends hadn’t been wearing any scarves or jackets, so this looked like a disease had come over the Westerners’ tribe just like it had in Hobart.

  “Hurry, Molly.” Tom said. “Get in there and straight out.”

  Molly nodded her head in agreement. She looked like she wanted to say something to him, but instead, put on her goggles and helmet, disappeared, and ran off at an incredible speed. He only knew that because he could see flashes of blue lightning come up from the ground over a northward direction.

  “I don’t think I will ever get used to that,” Jeremy said.

  “Me neither,” replied Tom and began to worry and fret about this beautiful girl who had entered his life so unexpectedly. While he was worrying about her, he failed to notice that hundreds of horses had turned up on the eastern plains.

  Four Easterners sat on their horses in front of the largest army in the island of Tasmania and watched as a massive tower sent bolts of lightning into the sky. Todd thought it was the most magnificent sight he had ever seen.

  “What do you see, Ned?” asked the governor as he wiped the rain off of his face.

  “Father, I see,” Edward replied as he looked through his spyglass, “about fifty savages, all facing us and looking like death.”

  “It’s a plague,” Todd said, who also had his own brass telescope. “One just fell down.”

  “We need to go ’round,” Doyle, who was frowning at the camp in front of them, added.

  “We can ride right through them,” Edward said. “They would not put up much of a fight.”

  “Did you hear me, Cousin?” Todd replied in exasperation. “Yes, we could wipe them out; although, why you think we need to is beyond me, but you will also be riding into a cesspit of disease. Are you so keen to catch a plague?”

  “They are savages,” Edward replied in anger. “Real men would not catch such diseases.”

  “Real men! Are you serious?” Todd replied in disbelief. The young woman named Molly had really shaken him up, he now realised.

  “Superior men we are,” Edward replied with gritted teeth as he ran his hand over the bald spot on his head.

  “Governor, we cannot do this,” Todd said to his uncle. “The Professor is up at that tower, not down in the camp.”

  The governor looked confused that his nephew and son were arguing like this. His nephew seemed as steady as ever, but Ned seemed to have changed for the worst. He was about to command that his troops go around when he heard his son cry out.

  “There she is, beyond the camp!”

  “What do you mean, Ned?” asked the governor.

  Edward Abercrombie put down his spyglass and turned to face Todd with a look he had never seen before. Hatred it was, pure hatred.

  “Look at the tower,” he snapped.

  Todd looked through his spyglass and saw Molly, in her silver suit, looking up at the tower.

  “She is there,” he said quietly.

  “We have to move now,” Edward shouted, “before she fucking leaves!”

  Todd looked at his cousin in shock. He never swore. He felt like Ned had been taken by a new personality. Or perhaps it was always there but nobody noticed.

  The governor licked his lips. He really wanted that suit, even for himself, he had to admit, and it was quite obvious that Molly had kept a few of its powers a secret.

  “I am not coming, Uncle,” Todd suddenly said.

  “Neither am I,” said Doyle, “and I won’t order my men into that.”

  “They follow my orders,” Edward grated out.

  “Would you like to put that to the test?” Doyle replied calmly.

  The governor looked at them in astonishment. This was tantamount to rebellion.

  “If we go around, she will be gone.” he said.

  “Nevertheless, the idea of fighting my own islanders makes me sick to the stomach, Uncle,” replied Todd.

  “Traitors!” Edward shouted and went for one of his swords.

  The governor held up his hand, and Edward stopped. But the madness was there in his eyes.

  “We will talk about your insubordination when we get back,” the Governor said and called out for his own personal guards. “A hundred men, mine and Ned’s,” he commanded. “That will do the job. We will ride straight through them.” And maybe the suit will be mine this time.

  Edward called to Hoodyard to gather his fifty personal guards. “You can go around if you like, coward,” he said to Todd in contempt, “but by the time you get there, she will be mine.” Along with the suit, of course.

  The professor had listened to the message on the radio earlier, and he was really starting to despair that the cycle of power from the old days was returning. Now he was looking out from where he sat in the rain on the tower and saw a mass of blue-jacketed soldiers on horses gathered to the east. He watched as Hockey and the sick Westerners stood facing them in defiance.

  They have come for us, the voice said.

  “The tower,” the professor muttered. “It’s the bloody power of the tower. When will humanity learn to just bloody share?”

  They must have come from way over to the east. They are close enough to have electricity supplied by the tower.

  “So they are concerned that the tower will stop?”

  Yes, I think so.


  “And are prepared to kill anybody who stands in their way.”

  Most likely.

  “I’m so tired of this,” the professor said in despair. “A never-ending bloody circle of stepping on each other.”

  The Resource Wars, but on a much smaller scale.

  “And the big armies always win.”

  Yes, the voice said sadly.

  “I miss Molly,” the professor sighed.

  Me too.

  A voice cried out to him from below.

  “See? Did you hear that?”

  Um, yes, I did.

  “I can almost hear her voice.”

  Look down.

  “She was such a sweet girl.”

  I said look down.

  “Always with a pleasant smile.”

  I SAID LOOK DOWN!

  The professor finally looked down and saw his only friend smiling back up at him.

  “Your hair looks nice,” he called down.

  “Thank you, Professor,” Molly replied, “but I need to get you out of here, right now.”

  Hockey had gathered about fifty men and women to stand and look at the Easterners. Surely, they must notice how sick they all looked, he wondered, because it was just the plain truth for anybody with eyes. They were all close to death’s door.

  “They are hesitating,” Carter called out to him.

  “I know,” Hockey called back as he stood at the front line. “But they are not riding around us.”

  “Cleese,” Carter called out to a tall man standing with Hockey.

  “What?” he called back.

  “Fall down.”

  “What?”

  “Just fall down, trust me,” Carter said, “and make it convincing.”

  “Oh, all right then.”

  Cleese sighed, lifted his left leg high in some sort of silly walk, then swept it back behind him and fell forward, flat on his face.

  “Impressive,” Hockey murmured under his breath.

  “If they ride through us, the sick people in the tent will get trampled on,” continued Carter.

  “Well, we will have to just stop these bastards then,” Hockey growled, and Carter felt encouraged that Hockey was showing some of his old self. The axe he had strapped to his back was wicked.

  “Do you have all the sticks you need?” asked Carter.

  “Sticks! Depends how many come,” Hockey grunted in reply.

  And as soon as he said that, about a hundred horsemen came galloping towards them.

  “Shit,” Sam said quietly as he stood next to Hockey.

  “Not scared, are you, Sam?” asked Ian.

  “No, of course not,” Sam bluffed.

  “I am,” Alex said, reaching for his beard that wasn’t there anymore.

  “Maybe a little,” Sam now muttered.

  “Get the boys ready, Carter,” Hockey growled out behind him. “On my command, we are to bend down. Do you understand?” he then said to the front row.

  The front line nodded their heads. They were ill, except for Sam and his friends, and many, if not all, would die today. But they had to protect the tents behind them.

  “Steady,” Hockey called out to his people as the horses reached within fifty paces of them. “Steady … now, get down!” he shouted.

  Edward was laughing, with his sword in a skewering position, as the dumb savages were staring dumbstruck as he and his men charged towards them. What was it his grandfather would say, like a possum staring at an oncoming car’s headlight? He looked over at his father, who seemed to be enjoying the ride as much as he was, but then he gave a start as the savages suddenly bent down, and behind them stood another fifty or so sick men and women, all carrying bows. His men could not respond with their swords at such a distance, so the arrows flew through the air and killed or injured a large contingent of his soldiers. He saw Hoodyard flying back through the air with an arrow in his gut, but his horse continued onwards.

  “Keep riding,” he called out to his men as they almost reached the enemy, but then he received a second shock of the day as the supposed sick front line of men and women lifted up long, sharpened wooden stakes, which must have come from some of the funeral pyres, and the men and horses who could not stop in time due to momentum or the heavy rain were then impaled gruesomely. Edward himself was thrown to the ground when his own horse was killed, but he managed to get to his feet and look at the battle. Men and women were throwing themselves on the survivors, screaming and stabbing, and some were even staggering out of the tents with knives to fight, but most were easy for Edward to kill due to his unequalled skill with the sword.

  “Ned!” his father screamed out to him from about twenty metres away as he lay on the floor, bleeding, but any attempt to save him was too late as a large elderly man he was fighting embedded an axe in his face.

  “So I am the governor,” Edward murmured as he stabbed two or three more of the disease-ridden filth.

  And finally, as he made his way through the battle, he could see that bitch Molly. He ran towards her with a snarl, and when he was close enough, he threw his rapier, end over end, through the air.

  Sam watched as horses and men were impaled on the sharpened wood they had once used to build a funeral pyre.

  “Drop the horse riders,” he heard Carter call out, and one last volley from the bowmen behind him killed any soldier who was still on his horse.

  “Now we can eat them,” Ian said.

  “What are you talking about?” asked Sam in confusion.

  “The horses are dead. Tom won’t mind now.”

  “Just fight, Ian, just fight.” Sam sighed.

  And they did, as the blue-jacketed soldiers who fell from their horses got up and ran towards them. Sam couldn’t use a sword due to his injured arm, but he was still quite good with his knife.

  Alex watched as Hockey smashed his axe through an old man’s head. Carter and his bowmen had joined the fight, and it was complete mayhem as there was so little room to move. Blue jackets versus men and women with headscarves, it must have looked insane. The heavy rain had also made it difficult to stay on their feet, and the ground was quickly turning into mud. He even saw his friend Ian rolling on the ground, trying to push a soldier’s face into the mud to suffocate him. To his left, he saw his brother, Sam, grappling with a young soldier; both had snarls on their faces until Alex drove his sword through the soldier’s throat.

  “Back to back,” he shouted to his brother.

  “Good idea,” Sam shouted back.

  And the battle went on.

  “Where are we going?” the professor asked as he reached the ground and hugged Molly.

  “Anywhere but here,” she replied. “There is a battle going on, and we have to go.”

  “Of course, young Molly,” he replied. “But I have left some instructions on the second level of the tower. If anybody decent out there wants to use the tower for good, they will know how to use it.”

  “That’s a good idea, Professor,” Molly said, and she really was thrilled to see him after so long.

  “My, you have grown pretty,” he said, looking at her.

  “Thank you,” Molly replied with a smile.

  “And the scabs and boils have gone from your face, and the fleas and lice from your hair.”

  “Yes … thank you, Professor,” Molly said with a strained smile, “but we really have to leave.” Suddenly, she gave a scream as a rapier sword entered her shoulder.

  “What a shot,” Edward cried out as he skewered Molly’s shoulder with his rapier sword. “You can’t use your suit now, can you, bitch?” He sneered as he ran up next to her. She really looks in a lot of pain, he thought with a smile.

  “Leave her alone,” the professor cried out.

  Edward Abercrombie turned his angry face towards the professor and unsheathed his longsword.

  Touch of madness, the voice said.

  “As mad as us?”

  Maybe.

  “Been creeping up on him so long, nobody was aware,�
�� the professor replied.

  Just like us?

  “Maybe.”

  Hmm, a handsome man who obviously doesn’t like his new scar on his head.

  “Who wouldn’t?”

  Indeed.

  “Molly must have slighted him.”

  Yes, and his massive ego must have been damaged.

  “So he was damaged.”

  Because the ego was all he had.

  “All he was.”

  The tower is loud.

  “And he is not used to it,” the professor replied, looking behind him.

  “Who the fuck are you talking to, old man?” Edward raged.

  “Oh, just biding my time,” the professor replied.

  “What for?” Edward asked.

  “For a hero.”

  “What hero?” Edward spat out.

  “Oh, this one.” The professor smiled.

  Edward turned around and saw a huge man jump from his horse, roll, and charge at him. The sword work was stunning and drove Edward back a number of paces. But he soon found his rhythm and deflected the attack.

  The man, or young man rather, had animal rage written across his face and was holding an unusual curved sword.

  “Ah, so you came to defend your Professor?” Edward said as he attacked the young man. He was surprised that he defended the attack well, but his movements were not graceful enough for him to win. He was too angry.

  “Or is it the girl?” he asked and was rewarded with an angry scowl. Ah, yes, it is the girl, he realised. “I hurt her, you know,” he said, and the young man with the green jacket swung wildly at him, which Edward easily parried away. “And after you are dead, I will rape and kill her.”

  The young man went crazy and swung so wildly at him that Edward was able to cut him along his ribs.

  “Oh, that has to hurt,” Edward laughed as he prowled around the young man, who was now cradling his side. He was enjoying this fight, as nobody had challenged him for far too long.

  “A little,” the young man replied with a grunt.

  “Your movements are too jerky,” he taunted. “You must learn to relax,” he said with an evil smile as he flicked his longsword through the air.