Space Team: The Guns of Nana Joan

by Barry J. Hutchison

  Mech got to his feet and limped along the alley towards them. Cal could see him muttering below his breath, and was relieved he couldn’t hear what was being said.

  “Keep back,” Mech warned. A single punch shattered the windshield, and the metal squeaked in protest as he tore out the whole frame.

  Cal untangled himself from the controls and jumped down. Miz followed a moment later, stretching her legs and cricking her neck. “I am never going in one of those things again.”

  “Oh, you think you had it bad?” said Mech. “Try being on the motherfonking roof!”

  Cal darted ahead. “Guys, come on! Before anyone gets through. Which way?”

  Mech checked his sensors. “Complicated. I’ll lead the way. You two watch our backs.”

  ‘Complicated’ was putting it mildly. Mech led them through a winding zig-zag of alleyways and back streets that Cal was sure was looping them around in circles.

  Eventually, though, they reached the mouth of a passageway and there, standing across the road, was a…

  “Dunkin’ Donuts?” said Cal. “What the…? Where did this come from?”

  “It’s Nana Joan’s,” Mech insisted.

  Cal shook his head. “No, Nana Joan’s is a Five Guys. This is a Dunkin’ Donuts. See, it reads your mind and figures out what you want to…” He stopped and thought for a moment. “Holy shizz, I’d actually kill for a Dunkin’ Donuts right now. My god, this place knows me better than I know myself. This is it, alright.”

  He stepped out onto the street, only for a hail of gunfire to force him back in. “Shizz!” he yelped, dancing a retreat. “They must have figured out where we were going, somehow.”

  “You literally announced it,” Mech reminded him. “You literally said, out loud, ‘We have to go to Nana Joan’s.’”

  “What if we just make a run for it?” Cal said. He gestured across the road. “It’s literally right there.”

  Miz took an empty soda can from the alley’s trash and tossed it into the street. Before it finished rolling, it had been obliterated by blaster fire.

  “How fast can you run again?” Miz asked.

  Cal sucked on his bottom lip. “Fonk. Not fast enough. Anyone have any ideas?”

  Mech frowned. “Maybe. Do you still heal fast?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “How fast, exactly?”

  “I don’t know. Fast. Why?”

  “I might have a plan,” Mech said. “But you ain’t gonna like it.”

  “Oh. OK,” said Cal. “Are you going to like it?”

  “Honestly?” Mech’s metal jaw bent into a grin. “It’ll be up there as one of the greatest moments of my life.” He tapped his arm. “Let me just activate recording mode. I’m gonna want to remember this for a long, long time…”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Cal rocketed through the air, laser-fire crisscrossing behind him, the wind turning his vision into little more than a blur. He was almost grateful for that fact, because it meant he couldn’t see the window approaching, or his own reflection that was rapidly growing larger in it.

  KARAAASH!

  Cal tumbled through the window in a chorus of shattering glass, breaking bones, and high-pitched shrieks. He clattered across a table, scattered a few space chairs, then left a lengthy blood trail across the floor as he slid to a stop.

  “Ow.”

  He rolled over and sat up. He was blind in one eye, and he was pretty sure he could feel his cheek resting on his chin. There were dozens of shards of glass embedded in his face and neck, and something flopping in front of his one working eye that he at first thought was a big spider, then realized was actually part of his scalp.

  “Son of a bedge,” he muttered, flopping the scalp back into place and rearranging his face into what he hoped was roughly the correct position.

  It was only then that he noticed Higgsy, Jork and Alan. They were standing eight or nine feet in front of him, staring at him in a mixture of horror, disbelief, and a bit more horror. They appeared to have been in the middle of giving a sponge bath to the fattest, single most revolting creature Cal had ever laid eyes on.

  It looked like someone had inflated a sausage, and been having too much fun to know when enough was enough. It was completely naked, aside from a large white sheet wrapped around its waist. Its bare skin was covered in sores and boils, and it was these that Higgsy and the others were sponging down with a thick, gloopy liquid.

  “Uh, hey guys,” said Cal, pulling the last of the glass from his face. He looked the fat thing up and down. “How’s it going?”

  “Dude,” Jork mumbled. “How did you just do that with your face?”

  “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” the naked guy said, his blubbery lips spraying spittle on the side of Jork’s head. The boils on his skin puckered up, and Cal realized they weren’t sores at all. They were hundreds of tiny mouths. “I paid for private dining.”

  “Uh, s-sorry, Your Eminence,” said Higgsy.

  “More soup!” the fat man demanded. There was a wet schlop sound as Higgsy slapped the sponge against him again, and set to work.

  “Jesus,” said Cal. He whistled below his breath. “I am glad it’s my day off.”

  “Muntch!” barked Nana Joan, storming through from the kitchen area. She no longer wore her robe and slippers, and was dressed in the same sensible outfit she’d worn yesterday, only now with an apron over the top of it. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you dead?”

  “Well, nice to see you too, Nana,” said Cal.

  “You know what I mean. They took you. They ought to have killed you by now.”

  Cal shrugged. “What can I say? I guess they let me go.”

  “You. In the building,” barked an amplified voice from outside. “Come out with your hands up.”

  “Or, you know, I escaped,” Cal said.

  Nana’s face became a mask of fury. “And you brought them here? What were you thinking? You have put everyone in here in danger!”

  “What, even me?” asked the fat guy.

  “Oh no, not you, dear,” Nana said, smiling warmly at the man. The smile fell away when she turned back to Cal. “But everyone else. They’ll think we’re conspiring with you. They’ll take us all in!”

  “Shizz, seriously?” Cal winced. “Sorry, that was an accident. I didn’t know.”

  He reached into Higgsy’s pocket, making the boy jump in fright. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  Cal pulled out the doohickey and held it up. “I had to come back for this. I slipped it into your pocket before those guys took me away last night.”

  “You have thirty seconds to comply,” the voice outside informed them. “Or we will storm the building and eliminate all threats within.”

  “They’re going to kill us!” Jork yelped.

  “Oh, great!” said Alan. “That’s just great! Thanks a bunch, Muntch.”

  Cal backed towards the broken window. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain you’re not involved.”

  “They’re not going to believe you. Not after last night,” Nana hissed. “Anyway, they’ll shoot you dead the moment you step out there.”

  The street was filled by the screaming of gunfire. Higgsy, Jork, and Alan all ducked for cover. “They’re shooting us, they’re shooting us!” Higgsy cried.

  “Relax, they’re not shooting us,” said Cal. “They’re shooting at her.”

  Miz bounded through the window with far more grace and style than Cal had, rolled across a tabletop, and landed on her feet with teeth and fangs bared.

  This was a step too far for the customer, who decided to take his chances elsewhere. He waddled towards the exit, screaming, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” then was disappointed to be shot the moment he opened the door. Something wet and soupy hit the wall behind him. Probably soup. The impact made his towel fall off, affording everyone else in the room one of the most harrowing sights of their lives. Then, with a thud, he toppled backwards onto the floor, dead.<
br />
  Mech used the distraction to make his own move. While not as fast as Miz, he had the advantage of being virtually invulnerable to blaster fire. He marched quickly across the street, bolts of energy rebounding off him as he sprayed gunfire of his own at anything that moved.

  With a heave, he pulled himself in through the broken window and inside Nana Joan’s. “You get your thing?” he asked.

  Cal held up the doohickey. “Got it.”

  “It’s a button? What does it do?” Mech asked.

  “Nothing yet. She told me it’ll work when the time is right.”

  Miz scowled. “That’s stupid. How will you know?”

  “She just said I’d know.”

  “Well, press it now,” said Mech. “If that thing’s going to help us somehow, the time sure feels pretty fonking right to me.”

  Cal pressed the button.

  Nothing happened.

  “Oh, great!” Mech grunted. “So now we’re stuck in here with half the fonking Tribunal officers in the city closing in on us.”

  “I don’t want to die!” Higgsy sobbed. “I don’t want to die!”

  “And you won’t,” said Nana, drawing herself up to her full, unimpressive height. She pointed to Miz and Mech. “You two, watch the window.”

  “Who’s she?” asked Miz, looking Nana up and down.

  “She’s my boss,” Cal explained. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

  Nana motioned to Cal and her other employees. “You four, with me.”

  Higgsy, Jork and Alan both hurried to the old woman’s side. Cal hesitated. “You’re not going to put me back on dishes, are you?”

  “No! Now hurry,” Nana snapped. “We don’t have much time.”

  She led them through the kitchens and into the storage area by the back door. “Of course!” said Cal, reaching for the handle. “We can go out the back way and take your ship. Nana, you’re a—”

  “No, don’t!” Nana yelped, but it was too late. A spray of blaster fire found its way inside. Cal yelped as it scorched his shoulder, then leaped aside as Nana slammed the door closed. She hurriedly keyed an override command into the panel beside it, activating the deadlock.

  “They’re out there, you idiot,” Nana hissed.

  Cal watched the wound on his shoulder close. “Then why did you bring us in there?” he asked.

  Nana approached a large metal cabinet. It looked much like the other metal cabinets in the storage room and kitchen, but as she got closer, the old woman’s voice became an almost reverend whisper. “For this,” she said, then the cabinet doors parted before her, and a series of racks and shelves unfolded from within.

  It was an arsenal. It was already the biggest arsenal Cal had ever seen in fact, and it was still growing as the shelves continued to unfold. Cal and the others stepped back as the racks continued expanding, locking themselves into place as more and more weapons were unveiled.

  “What… What is all this?” Higgsy whispered.

  “These are my guns, dear,” said the old woman, gesturing around the room, which was now almost completely covered by racks of weaponry. “These are the guns of Nana Joan. I didn’t always run a restaurant, you know?”

  She reached for a short, stubby rifle with three vertically-aligned barrels and a frankly ludicrous scope on top. “Everyone take one. Take as many as you can carry. If we’re going down, we’re going down fighting.”

  “Alright, Nana Joan!” cried Cal, grabbing himself a couple of blaster pistols and something that looked like a chain gun, minus the chain.

  “We don’t want to fight!” said Jork. “Right, Higgsy?”

  Higgsy blinked several times, then snatched a shotgun from the rack. “Just get a gun, you freaking idiot,” Higgsy said. “We either fight, or we die. Right, Nana?”

  “That’s right, dear,” said Nana. She patted Higgsy on the arm and winked. “You stick with me, you hear?”

  She looked down at Alan, who was staggering under the weight of a portable missile-launcher. “Seriously, Alan?” she sighed. She plucked the weapon from his grasp and handed him a pistol instead. “Here, start with this.”

  “Huh? This thing is tiny.”

  “Yes, well so are you,” Nana pointed out.

  Alan opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

  “We’re about to have company!” roared Mech from out front.

  Cal crammed another couple of guns into his belt, slung two more rifles over his shoulder, and gestured to the missile-launcher in Nana’s hands. “May I?”

  Nana took a moment to consider the request. “Very well, Muntch. I hope you know how to use it.”

  “Oh I do. And please, call me ‘Cal.’”

  “No,” said Nana. “And you’re pointing it the wrong way.”

  A torrent of blaster fire rattled against the outside of the door behind them. Higgsy snapped up his gun, closed his eyes and fired. The bolt rebounded off the door and spent a terrifying few seconds ricocheting off every available surface, before punching a hole in the kitchen door.

  “Jesus Christ!” Cal yelped. “Be careful with that thing!”

  “S-sorry!” Higgsy whimpered.

  “It’s shielded,” Nana said, gesturing to the back door. “Against both energy and physical assaults. No-one’s getting in that way, at least not for a while.”

  Cal led the way back through the kitchen and into the main restaurant. Mech was by the window, pumping round after round down the street. Mizette ducked low near the open door, ready to pounce on the first head that poked through.

  “Miz!” Cal called, tossing her a rifle. She caught it, gave it an experimental sniff, then nodded her approval. Pivoting on her front foot, she pumped a pulsing blue ball of energy out through the door. A moment later, something made a loud whump sound outside, and a reassuringly large number of people all began screaming at the same time.

  “Good choice,” said Miz, eyeing the weapon. “I am totally keeping this thing.”

  Another window exploded, and a volley of blaster bolts obliterated a trash can. Cal joined Mech at the first window, while Nana led the others over to the second, gesturing for them to keep low.

  “What’s the situation?” Cal asked. “You know, other than ‘we’re probably all about to die,’ I mean.”

  “We got around a hundred agents out front,” Mech began, then Miz’s gun fired again, and several more people screamed. “We got around eighty-five agents out front,” Mech corrected. He sprayed blaster fire off to his right, then indicated in the same direction. “And some kind of tank rolling in.”

  Cal hoisted the missile launcher onto his shoulder. “Leave the tank to me,” he said, then he pulled the trigger before Mech could spoil his fun. To his immense relief, he was pointing it in the right direction. He was also pointing it down at a much steeper than intended angle, and the road just a few feet ahead of them erupted in a ball of fire, singeing Cal’s eyebrows, and knocking him onto his back.

  “OK, my bad! My bad,” Cal wheezed, returning to his spot. “Totally misjudged that.”

  A rain of laser fire slammed into the window surround from outside. Cal and Mech both ducked as it screamed over their heads, shattered the remaining shards of glass, and punched holes in the walls.

  Across the room, Nana Joan gestured for her staff to stay back, then stood up at the window, and fired several times with two blaster pistols. She ducked back down before the bodies of the Tribunal agents had even hit the ground.

  “Whoa. Nice shooting, Nana,” said Jork, peeking up over the window ledge. Nana pulled him down before a volley of return fire tore past them.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said, smiling warmly. “Now, try not to get shot in the face, if you can possibly avoid it.”

  “I want to shoot something!” said Alan. The little pistol looked enormous in his hands, and he had to jam the butt of it against his shoulder like a rifle stock.

  “You’ll get your chance,” said Nana. She stood up, killed several p
eople, then crouched down again. “If anyone gets in here, that’s when you three strike, OK? You three are my secret weapon. Nana Joan’s secret sauce. Got it?”

  She squeezed Higgsy’s bloated cheek, then got back to shooting people. As she stood up, a puff of smoke emerged from the turret of the tank.

  “Everyone down!” she screamed, hurling herself away from the window, knocking over her three employees on the way.

  At the exact same moment, the doohickey in Cal’s pocket let out a loud chime, and Ronda’s voice emerged. “The time is right,” she said.

  As Cal fumbled with the device, Mech spun, shoving Cal to the ground. Miz bounded towards the center of the room, and they all hit the deck just as the wall and part of the roof erupted, filling the restaurant with fast-moving rocks, glass, and scrap metal.

  There was a ringing in Cal’s ears when he opened his eyes. The floor lurched beneath him as he tried to get up, blinking and coughing in a cloud of dust. “Everyone OK?” he wheezed.

  Mech’s arm sparked and popped, but he ignored it. “Fine.”

  “We’re OK, dear,” said Nana Joan.

  “S-speak for yourself!” Jork sobbed, although he appeared to be more scared than hurt. Alan pulled himself upright, then helped Higgsy up as far as he could.

  “They broke my cool gun!” Miz grumbled, holding up the weapon. A sliver of metal was buried in one side, and a glowing blue fluid dripped from the entry point.

  There was a series of metallic clattering sounds, as several metal disks sailed in through the damaged wall. Mech raised his damaged arm to blast the closest one, but his cannon refused to fire.

  “Oh,” Cal whispered, his eyes going wide. “Shizz.”

  The disks exploded. What came out of them was not the fiery death Cal had been prepared for, but a gloopy, gelatinous white fluid that coated them all from head to toe. Cal tried to stumble back, but the gloop became stringy, then solid around his body. The stuff on his face squidged aside, locking his head in place, but leaving his face and airways clear.

  “Jesus,” he grimaced, struggling against his bonds. “Well, I guess that was the money shot.”

  Mech and Miz were both cocooned, just like he was. Higgsy, Jork and Nana Joan, too. There was a number of Alan-sized lumps on the floor, but from Cal’s angle, he couldn’t see a face on any of them.