The reception was mixed. Everyone was relieved Ran and Clara had made it out of the Rocky, perhaps even somewhat surprised. But there was concern for Randal’s wellbeing. Their internal medical response had its obvious limitations. They had a doctor contact, but preferred avoiding an outsider, especially with their recent public work. But nothing further could be determined for Ran until the two arrived.

They had tied Revel’s unconscious body to a chair in a dimly lit, enclosed basement room, hood still over the dignitary’s head. Turtle, Sprite, Gunn, and Reynolds were down there, waiting to administer a wakeup call.

Helen and Kurl had traded their van for a panel truck in another underground garage, not willing to risk being noticed with the retractable blast door down, rather than your conventional van doors. This would later need repairing but could wait now. Helen donned a hat matching the delivery logo on the side, and Kurl hid in the back until they got home.

Clara and Ran had not yet returned, though Hawk informed everyone that he had received a coded transmission from Clara earlier. She had rescued Ran; he was as well as could be expected but have medical waiting.

On lockdown, if Sprite’s equipment were left for a week untouched or if disturbed improperly, the machines would self destruct. Sprite was pretty sure the tactical team hunting her down had served to destroy the equipment and perhaps even a few of themselves in the process.

Gunn and Reynolds were picked up by Sparrow after making their way out of the building through the service tunnels and meeting her several blocks away. Again, nothing fancy, nothing assuming, just a vehicle that was reliable and could easily disappear in a crowd.

Helen and Kurl had traded their van for another vehicle.

It was only a few hours later before all the darts returned to the compound, Hawk glad when each arrived. T had been first, after ditching the Red Cherry Turbo in another garage and coming back in an unassuming four door. He had stashed the still unconscious Revel in the trunk, pulling a black hood over his head and tying his arms and feet. T had dosed him with a narcotic that should keep him under for several hours, but why even risk the highly unlikely?

Sprite took public transport home, riding the underground and leaving her equipment on lockdown.

Clara revealed her head from the body stocking, putting her contacts away and wiping off the black eye makeup. She pulled on a poncho, its hood over her head, and slumped Randal’s unconscious body over the second horse, covering him with a blanket and towing this horse behind hers. They headed south toward her waiting rotocoptor, hidden in a haystack, glad she had gone to the precaution of leaving her electronics out of range of the Rocky’s electromagnet.

Upon uncovering the rotocoptor, Clara freed the horses and dragged Randal onboard, letting him continue to rest, heading once again for home.

Eventually Clara spotted the small fire of the mute Eskiman trader slow burning her dead donkey, twenty-four hours after the creature’s death as was required by the old customs. Now knowing how far down the mountain she and Ran had traveled, Clara adjusted her descent to a steeper mark, banking east toward Rancher.

Landing in the outskirts of the village, Clara wasn’t sure if Ultramax Rocky Pen had set off its electromagnetic pulse until she found all of Rancher in the dark. She left Ran with the hang glider and silently stole into the horse stables. There she retrieved her horses.

the ending

The subsequent avalanche would prevent any other sensors from tracking them.

“We made it,” Clara said, the hang glider slowly descending as the elevation continued to drop around them, she and Ran making little more than a dark mark on the sky still wearing their black body stockings, attached to a black hang glider. There wasn’t even more than a sliver of a moon.

She smiled.

“We made it,” she repeated, but Randal did not respond. He had passed out. The two soared over the forest and Clara turned her glider, using her compass to determine the direction to follow.

Clara reached to her waist and pulled out her blowgun and the last exploding blue dart. Taking aim from the hang glider, she hit the fabric and frame package she had left on top of the overhang. The small explosion of the dart caused the chemicals in the package to mix, the bundle then erupting in a massive explosion, heat seekers made useless by the roaring flames, a large plume of gray smoke filling the sky and disrupting visuals of the small patrolling aircraft.

There was a deep rumble and rocks, snow, and ice began to tumble down the mountain.

“Just a little further,” Clara said, fastening the final strap. Gunfire erupted from the balcony across the courtyard. “Run with me,” she said, taking off for the edge of the building. Randal stumbled several footsteps, at least not hindering if not exactly helping them either.

Guards reached the roof and opened fire as the ninja and the Special disappeared over the edge of the building. Clara opened the dark triangle at their backs, extending it outward on both sides, the two flying away from the building, gliding over the barren mountain side on a simple but large, black hang glider.

Clara pulled out a large bundle of thin black fabric and light framing, discarding her backpack and unfolding the unit into a large triangle. She pulled straps over her shoulders, attaching it securely and turned to grab Randal. Already guards were scrambling for the rooftop, trying to pull themselves up. Others were running to the far side, looking for vantage points to open fire.

Randal was dizzy and sweaty, his body now shutting down from the torture, malnutrition, and nanaline overdose. “I think you’re going to have to help me,” he said, as Clara strapped him in behind her back.

The orc’s body, perhaps unconscious, perhaps already dead, was dragged quickly along the floor of the remaining hall and vanished through the open doors of the elevator shaft, following the elevator to the bottom most subbasement.

“Give me your hand,” Clara said, reaching down and pulling Randal back up to the top floor. The guards burst out of the stairwell, shouting and readying weapons. “To the roof!” Clara said, and the two leapt, pulling themselves up as weapons erupted below them.

The two ran toward the edge of the building, Clara removing her backpack and pulling out a dark bundle.

The Special held tight to the rope, falling toward the courtyard, the orc above him falling as well. Then the orc was suddenly jerked hard and pulled back up, the rope around his neck and arm, straining, yanking him and Randal toward the elevator shaft that the elevator was rapidly plummeting in.

The orc’s massive body smashed through the railing and the bottom of the exterior hall overlooking the courtyard. Randal whipped back and forth behind him, holding tight to the rope until finally seeing a safe dismount. He let go of the rope and landed a story below Clara.

As the elevator began to fall down the elevator shaft, Clara jumped from the roof of the car through the open elevator doors as it fell past, careful to stay free of the rope that was rapidly being pulled through the opening and down the elevator shaft.

Randal soared out over the courtyard, but grabbed the end of the rope just as the other end yanked severely on the arm and neck of the orc. The orc grunted and was pulled over the edge of the hall, his massive body tearing through the railing like it was made of toothpicks.

Then Ran jumped at the orc and immediately propelled himself off the creature’s massive belly, looping the rope again around the orc’s arm. Ran bounced off the wall with his feet and managed to drop a loop of the rope around the orc’s neck as well.

“Now, Clara!” Ran yelled.

The orc bellowed with rage, dropping his ball and chain in favor of more speed; the orc simply backhanded the Special, sending Ran flying out over the railing.

Upon hearing Randal’s call, Clara swung her sword once, slicing through the thick elevator cable. The elevator car plummeted beneath her feet.

The Special caught the rope in a bundle and jumped back, dodging yet another swing of the orc’s ball and chain.

The guards continued to run up the stairs, just a couple more flights to go.

Clara disappeared into the elevator again, pulling herself back on top of it.

The Special didn’t know the best way to do this, but playing off the orc’s size and speed, Randal ran directly at him. The creature swung his mace at the Special. But Ran was already past it, and he quickly looped a portion of the rope around the orc’s available wrist.

Clara pulled herself on top of the elevator car and tied the last of her climbing rope to a steel ring at the top of the elevator.

Guards were rapidly gaining, already several stories closer.

The orc swung his mace; the Special ducked then dove out of its way, the orc smashing into the floor in front of it.

Clara came running out of the elevator, coil of rope in her hand. “Ran, tie this to him!” she yelled, throwing the rope over the opening to the courtyard below, across the chasm, cutting a corner to the other open hall.

“Stall him,” Clara said, dropping the empty weapon and running away from the orc.

With the commotion of the gunfire, some guards in the courtyard pointed up at them, and others already started running toward the stairwell, the elevators still automatically called to the top floor and shut down.

The orc swung its spiked ball. The Special dodged, and the ball slammed into the wall. The orc yanked it free, and Randal dodged the attack again.

Clara stopped at the nearest elevator and pried open the doors. She sliced a large opening in the ceiling and pulled herself through it.

The orc in the warrior’s gray face paint smiled briefly, happy for a distraction, then his business face was back and the huge creature started walking toward Ran and Clara, a massive mace in one hand and spiked ball on a chain in the other.

“I’ve got him,” Randal said, exhaustion clearly on his face.

Clara stepped forward and emptied the guard’s weapon into the orc’s knee, chunks of green brown flesh flying free of its monstrous leg.

The creature roared with rage, stumbled forward and continued to limp toward them, dragging its wounded leg behind.

“Stall him,” Clara said.

The two burst out of the stairwell at the top floor only to find an orc standing guard, stationed to keep the inmates here in order. The hall was open toward the center of the building, a railing separating them from the courtyard several stories below. Clearly the orc was surprised to see the escape attempt had made its way here, but he was also happy. He was dressed the same as the orc in the courtyard, loin cloth and little else, though he also wore gray warrior’s paint on his face.

The orc smiled briefly, then went serious again.

Clara fired the dead guard’s weapon at terrified men before Randal sliced them in half, leaving their dying bodies in his wake. The ninja quickly followed the Special, but by the time she reached him at the top of the stairs, there was nothing but bodies remaining.

“Hurry,” Ran said, weariness on his face. Clara just nodded. The two passed the exit to the main, courtyard level, and continued to climb the stairs to the top of the tower. They didn’t come across further resistance in the stairwell, the guards presumably expecting them to attempt their escape from ground level.

Randal did not hesitate, running straight through the rubble and smoke. Startled yells and dying screams were heard as Ran slashed his way through the armed men. Gunfire erupted, and Clara feared for Randal’s safety. More bursts of automatic fire. The screaming continued.

Clara cautiously entered the stairwell, dead bodies strewn about, the sounds of battle and death coming two stories up. Clara mounted the stairs, picking up one of the dead men’s weapons. Looking up the center of the stairwell, the Special advanced on the men, swords swinging like a wild man’s, guards hacked to pieces in his wake.

The vampire without a throat and the final creature Ran was to face both died about the same time, joining their fallen brothers on the ground, bodies all rapidly aging, rotting away.

“Let’s go,” Randal said, now holding two of the vampire’s swords in his hands, his short sword in its sheath on his back and the long knife at his waist. Clara simply continued the path to the stairwell.

Upon nearing the door, the ninja stopped, throwing a knife at it. The door exploded upon contact, men on the other side yelling orders to stand down and wait instructions.

Seeing the fleeing vampire, Clara quickly dropped her swords and withdrew her blowgun, sending a blue dart sailing toward the retreating vampire. She hit him in the back of the neck and the resulting small explosion blew out half of his throat. The vampire stopped its running, trying to put a hand to the wound but gave up the futile attempt at staving off the bleeding when he realized his hand was buried in his own gore. The vampire turned and looked back. It saw Randal kill another of his friends, then turn his full attention on the remaining vampire.

The vampire with the missing hand screamed and raised his bleeding stump of an arm for protection as his own sword and dead hand came at him in a fast arc, Randal sweeping the blade toward its former owner. But the arm did little to defend the vampire as the blade passed through the forearm then neck, this one’s head falling to the ground as well.

Two of the remaining vampires screamed a battle cry of rage and came at the Special again. Randal deflected their blows, but the last vampire had turned and was running away down the hall.

The vampire howled in anger and pain, his stump still pumping blood, spraying the ground around him. His hand was slowly decaying, still wrapped around the hilt of the sword now in Randal’s hand.

Another vampire in front of Ran saw his opportunity and came in quick, a sword coming at Randal’s open belly. But the Special was so fast hopped up on nanaline. With the knife, he deflected the vampire’s blow and with the newly acquired sword, took off the head of the attacking vampire. But Randal didn’t stop his attack, instead turning his body and continuing the blow.

Clara stood back, not believing her own eyes. The Special was taking on three of the front vampires, deflecting blow after blow with his long knives, following each defensive move with his own offensive strike, finding home and slowly bleeding these vampires out.

A vampire from the back knocked another of his own aside and attacked the Special. His blow surprised Ran, knocking his short blade from his hand. Randal kicked aside a vampire behind him, grabbing the other’s hand holding the sword. With a quick, hard motion, Randal cut off this hand at the wrist with his remaining sword.

Randal stuck several inches of his short blades into the vampire multiple times before the creature even realized where the attack was coming from.

The vampire screamed and turned to face this new foe. The other vampires flew to their comrade’s aid, but it was too late for him. Randal deflected the blows of the fast and insanely strong creature, then made a swift strike at the thing’s neck, cutting it half free, blood spraying the walls and ceiling.

Before the vampire even fell to the floor dead, Randal turned and charged blindly into the crowd of five advancing vampires.

The attacking vampire drove Clara back with ease, the ninja doing all she could just to stay alive, desperately deflecting each blow of the creature’s blade.

Randal squeezed his eyes tight, fighting back the urge to scream. He opened his eyes and the world slowed down around him. Randal blinked one slow, surprised closing of his eyes. This was what ODing on nanaline was like. His veins pumped maddeningly, his muscles ached to be used. Then the Special flew into action. Immediately he went after the vampire attacking Clara, sticking the animal multiple times, shallow and deep, with his blades.

“You can’t handle them all by yourself,” Randal said, withdrawing his own blades to help.

“Not in your condition,” Clara said.

The six vampires faced them, confident smiles turning into snarls as they began to slowly stalk Ran and Clara, the vampires withdrawing their own blades, determined to enjoy the kill.

Randal pulled out the last syringe of nanaline, injecting it into his neck.

A particularly vicious looking vampire snarled, snapping his jaws at them. Spittle flew from his deadly maw.

The vampire flew at Clara, swords at the ready. He drove her back effortlessly, she desperately deflecting his blows.

“We have a fighting chance with the stairs,” Clara said. “We’re easy kills climbing that elevator cable.”

“Agreed,” Ran said, running with Clara.

Another corner and another automatic ceiling rig. Clara disabled it the same as the last one, retrieving her sword as they approached the useless weapon.

“Wish I could have done that,” Ran said.

“What?” Clara glanced back, the two still running.

“Nothing,” Ran said.

The two rounded a corner and came to a dead stop. In front of them, six vampires stood, smiling confidently.

“Get back,” Clara said, drawing both swords, standing between Randal and the vampires.

Approaching the elevator, they passed the bodies Clara left in her wake. “Wait,” she said, putting up a hand. Randal paused and Clara pushed the elevator doors open, sticking her head in, looking up.

Gunfire erupted above them and Clara only barely got out of the elevator in time.

“The stairs,” she said.

“What about the other elevators?”

“If they’re at one, assume they’re all burned,” Clara answered. “We’re taking the stairs.”

“Won’t they be at the stairs too?” Ran said, following Clara.

“Yes, but at least there we have a fighting chance. We’re target practice climbing that elevator cable.”