Wednesday, July 25, 2012

GZ Legends 17: Streets of Terror



Nyhtwulf
Nyhtwulf flew over top of Blacktide through the city streets again. Suddenly he veered off across the street, much to Larry’s surprise and flew ghosting through the doors of a delicatessen. He couldn’t hear the screams but Blacktide hurried to park his bike and run after the stray demon.  He ran across the street and through the door with a ring of the hanging bell inside. There, at the far end of the counter, stood Nyhtwulf with shocked onlookers all around. All of them had pressed themselves against the furthest walls from Nyhtwulf. The demon grabbed up packets of cream cheese out of the refrigerator case and popped them, foil packaging and all, into his mouth. He took note of Blacktide in the doorway immediately.

                “These are wonderful! I’ve never had anything like them!”

                The large man behind the counter looked to Blacktide as well, “Is that thing yours?”

                Larry scribbled some information on a napkin, “Add it up and call that office. Ask for Commander Larratus. Tell him Blacktide told you to call. I’m sure they’ll take care of you.”  Then he turned to Nyhtwulf, “You know, we can’t just go around taking things without paying for them. Come on, we have to get going.”

                “May I take some with me?”

                “Fine, just show this guy how many you got okay?”  
                      
                “Ah, no, that’s okay, sir, I know how many were there. Just take that whatever it is with you,” the man at the counter said.

                “Oh thank you, these are so wonderful!”

                “Yeah? You should try unwrapping them.”

                “Unwrapping?” Nyhtwulf looked at the small foil packages in his hand quizzically as they went out the door.

                “Man, New York is getting stranger by the day,” remarked the man behind the counter after the door closed.

                The heroes finally reconvened at the office of Commander Larratus and he turned on a television set with a tape player. He listened to a short explanation about Nyhtwulf and nodded.

                “I guess we’ll take all the help we can get. Too bad he can only talk through you, must be difficult.”

                “It has its interesting moments.”

                “I’m sure. Alright, all of you pay attention to this tape. This was aired on all channels while you were all out searching.”

                He pushed in the tape and the screen flickered on to the face of the Bagman at the Whitehouse.

                “Hello people of America, the United Nations, and the world. We are responsible for the taking of the White House. Not only that, we work for the force responsible for blocking out the sun. If you ever want to see the sun again, you’ll do absolutely nothing. Of course, as we can see military gathering around the property, you can certainly attack and destroy a national monument if you wish. We won’t stop you from that, but you will kill the President, his family and the Vice President in the process. So, by all means, give us a big demonstration of military might. We could use a good laugh. As I said, your best course of action against us at this time is absolutely nothing. We are in control.”

                The screen went black.

                “He’s not just blowing smoke at us. They took the White House not long after the attacks on the police precincts. They killed over a hundred people including military and secret service personnel. We need to find out who and what is at the top of this whole thing and take them down. What do we know about this darkness, can any of you figure anything about it with your powers?”

                “I flew up to it, but couldn’t go through it,” Anubis said.

                “I’ve tried my elemental senses and I can only tell you that it’s un-natural,” Sandstorm said.

                “Nyhtwulf says he saw a large starship outside of it all on his way here, but he doesn’t know where it’s from. Hey, why didn’t you mention this before?”

                Nyhtwulf shrugged and finished the last of his cream cheese, “ Sorry, too much happening all at once and it didn’t seem like part of my mission before.

                “Well, it’s all part of our mission now, okay?”

                Nyhtwulf nodded and bowed his head, “Yes, I am sorry. I will not fail this again.”

                “Okay, okay, you don’t have to get like that. I forgive you, okay?”

                Nyhtwulf nodded happily with a toothy grin.

                “Yeah, buck up there, nobody’s perfect,” Anubis gave him a friendly elbow and got a hard one in return.

                “Would you two like to go out and chase a stick together?” Larratus growled.

                At that moment the phone rang and the Commander answered it. “What! What? Are you sure? And there’s no one else, we’re almost on to something here. Yes, yes, I know! Alright, we’ll get right on it.” He slammed down the receiver, “Professor Zombie’s army of weirdoes are attacking everything and everyone in our city streets. They’re forcing people into buildings, fleeing for their lives. Get out there and stop them! Agent Redeagle, go to weapons and get some new stuff waiting there for you and catch up afterward. Move! People are dying! Oh, hey, Nightfall, could you stick around, I think I have a job for you.”

                “Anything to help.” She nodded to Anubis to go on without her.

                Out in the streets, energy beams flew rampant and random objects exploded into balls of fire. They moved on the streets in the hundreds from hiding spots all over the city. Nothing caught in their path and left in their wake could be saved. Those who didn’t find their way into a building found themselves seeking cover in vain. Little offered adequate protection from the hot beams of the space age weapons.

Anthony James
                Agent Redeagle hurried to the weapons department. A man with black hair and grayed sideburns was waiting for him. He was further distinguished by his goatee with two gray stripes and a patch over his left eye. He held out a hand in welcome, “I’m Anthony James, FBI. I’m an inventor and designer for our defense systems.”

                “Good to meet you. I understand I need to pick something up here?”

                “Yes, you use a 454 Casull don’t you?”

                “Yes I do.”

                “Here,” he handed Redeagle a box of bullets, “You’ll find these very effective on those helmets they’re wearing.”

                “I take it we’re up to full force regardless on these things?”

                “Yes we are, they’re too dangerous for anything else. Here,” he also handed Ray a long dagger with a fist grip, “That’s a very special metal alloy on that dagger. It’ll go through those helmets and most other armor like a hot knife through butter.”

                “Not to sound cliché,” Ray half joked.

                “Of course not. I’m working on some body armor against these weapons, but there’s still some kinks to work out. You better get going.”

                Agent Redeagle was out the door before another word could be said.

*******
No shelter
                Out in the streets, a school bus became trapped amongst wrecked cars and carnage and deadly forces closed in with no mercy for adult or child. The bus driver slumped over the steering wheel with a fatal head injury. The fifth grade teacher gathered all of her students away from the windows and as close together as possible. She hoped against hope that, if they weren’t seen or heard, maybe the attackers would pass them by. Her blood ran cold as she looked down the aisle of seats to see the helmet of one of the killers faced through the back window toward her.  She froze, and what could she do? Run or stay, they had been seen.
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