by Brent Reilly
CHAPTER 43
Billy found the key to the armory and crossed the courtyard, no one giving his youthful face a second glance. High above the fort he heard the echoes of firefights. It reassured him to know his friends were here. He killed a few dozen Mongols on the way.
Inside, he imagined what lay next to the armory. He walked to the back and blasted a hole in the wall, which led to an eating area. He killed the four guys staring at him like a ghost. He prepared a time-delay explosion, carried as many bombs as he could, then crossed the eating area to a barracks until he found his way back to the dungeon.
With so many men crowding the hallway and stairs, he knew he could not rescue Blade, but he could at least end her suffering. He owed her that much.
He hid in a closet with his bombs until the massive explosion rocked the castle. He hurried out, flew down the hallway, and stabbed or blasted everyone alive.
Billy went back for the anti-personnel bombs filled with shrapnel, rolled them down the stairs, then fired until they exploded. He rolled around the corner and shielded his face as rock fragments rained down on him like hail.
Now he could finally shut the steel door where he killed the first two golden mules. He welded the door to its metal frame, then melted the key lock, just to be sure.
Angry fists soon pounded on the door, demanding he open it. Instead, he knelt, stuck his wands under the door and maximized their flame, incinerating people and forcing the survivors to inhale smoke. He took their screams for payback for what they were doing to Blade.
Upon hearing voices, he laid down next to the corpses, his innocent face and burnt chest plainly visible. Eyes closed, he slowed his breathing down enough to pass for dead. A squad of frustrated quads came in and tried opening the door. Well, Billy couldn’t let that happen, so he extended four metal spears, each killing two, his legs up like a woman giving birth, then changed to swords to cut the rest down.
Instead of waiting for more quads, Billy repeated his earlier exploration of the castle, slaying all he met. Billy peaked out a door and was surprised it was night already. He had no idea so much time had passed. Guards still manned the battlements, and small firefights still raged above, while terrified non-combatants fled through the open gate to Barcelona.
He watched another exhausted squad land, wondering out loud why their mercs had not yet returned. Once they had their backs to him, Billy ran and cut them down as soon as they left the courtyard.
On the battlements, the greatest concentration of guards looked to the west, so he walked there, placed himself in the middle, then extended wands in both directions to maximize how many warriors he pierced, like two human kabobs. Then he reverted to swords to cut more down before taking too much fire. He rose into the air and fired back -- not at those shooting at him, who’d just evade, but at those not looking at him. Fliers rose to meet him and he blasted the first several easily enough, but once the volume of fire grew too much, he descended below the outer wall and hugged the ground. Several chased him, so he hid in a tree and cut them as they passed.
