The Wrong Guns

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Floating midair a hundred feet of the driveway to the warehouse, I withdraw, when I catch the attention of one of the armed thugs. The majority of them outside are in a commotion over the HoverBolt that's far off in the skyline. Men were pointing and looking at each other, astonishment mutual between all of them. The thug I alarmed pats the shoulder of the one next to him with urgent panic trying to get the others to look at me.

I back away once they take aim descending sharply, at the same time, Eva rose from behind me.

I look up to see a ring of her arrows leading the way to the sky. They stand like forty pointed candles, in a circle. Her shoulder's driving to the clouds. Her wings flap to a halt and the arrows timber to surround her like a "connect-the-dots hula-hoop" - each dot an out of reach arrow head pointing away from her midsection.

Eva's invisible force, make the arrows orbit like Saturn's rings. Amazing! That's what she is one word.

Her wings flap once more, Eva floating over the river now, and arrows race down with a forward lunge of her upper body that outstretched her palms and heels as her wings stretched out. Arrows kept taking off one by one as they aligned with her aiming fingertips, straight for her targets on the ground, each arrowhead picking their own unique destination and bodies fall left and right. I know this feeling is new and I find it comforting to focus on my breathing.

Over the small hill I climbed on foot, I noticed Eva managed to sink tips, into all the collapsed bodies in front of me. I keep a good pace throwing myself against the passenger door of a Lincoln Town Car. In my follow-through I snatched an M16 off of one of the men on the sidewalk. He's knocked out cold and though his eyes were open, nobody was home to protest. Not sure what these arrows are made of. I read "Franklin ST" off a green sign on the bent pole, to my right.

There were men aiming at Eva standing behind the rusty gate across the street. I heard arrows clinging off the old chain link fence. The thugs start firing. I look over the Lincoln Town Car's hood, count four, and quickly lean on the door again.

To my left, Eva's still high up, swaying like a falling leaf, she dodges bullets. Gunpowder fills the air.

I have to get to them before they sink led into her . . . on bent knees I peek over the hood again then duck . . . my back against the passenger door. I'm only here to take a deep breath.

I run to my right, hard, ducking low as I go around the trunk of the Lincoln Town Car. I cross the street towards the entrance of the drive way, backpedaling over the asphalt sideways as I aim and fire at a couple torsos fifteen yards in front of me.

"What the fuck." I panic for a second. I managed to hit two of them with that first shot, one - more down than the other. My gun jammed just after a couple bullets. Till I squeeze the trigger again and notice it was a single fire. Better yet, a three round burst. I thought I held an automatic. I unload whatever was left of the clip. Accurately spraying the remaining three, squeezing the trigger rapidly I manage to hit my targets before they ever got their aim on me. Not bad for my first time firing an assault rifle.

Yea, their adjustments were slow . . . or maybe I'm way too into Eva to let these thugs get to her, which is all I could celebrate for; in having taken their lives.

A thought slaps me across the face with an analysis of this situation I find myself in.

"Ok." I say, to myself. I better be fully engaged to this, or I could die, "We're only getting started," I needed reminding as I flew straight for the dropped bodies, rifle in hand.

The collapsed men had been taking protection from Eva's arrows behind the rusty fence. I pick out a pair of handguns; they weren't going to need them anymore, and tuck them between shirt and jeans under my sweater. I also stuffed the extra clips into my pockets from one guy Velcro strap that held extra clips around his leg. I decided to take the whole set . . . His body made me flinch when I was removing the Velcro, his nerves fired. Not in response to life. His eyes were distracted . . . they were all out of their bodies by now. Have to be. And if not, I'm sure they'd bleed out soon.

I thought about what Harley told me, and it feels like a different Danny was alive then, "Your bones, become dirt. Your blood, trickles through all of the natural filters of earth, until finally, it finds its way, BACK . . . To the vast depths of the ocean." I recall word for word.

We've been spotted by now - or "heard" - thugs come after me from the entrances of the warehouse, the closest one already within a few yards using the cars in the lot as a shield. I fly straight up, doing a head count of somewhat and try to find Eva down the street to my right.

She hadn't slowed down one bit...

***

Eva came down and landed on the asphalt. Upon contact with the floor kept her velocity up Franklin Street. There was a car parked in front of her, and could see a dozen men all the way down the street . . . running their rifle aiming bodies straight towards her.

Ducking low behind the parked car up ahead. Gaining faucet like speeds, she unbuckles her wings from their three clips. Her telekinetic palms stretch out behind her and keep the wings close . . . Never falling lifeless on the floor, never slowing down behind her.

Eva makes contact with the back of a blue Cadillac Deville. A powerfully timed kick off of the trunk lifts its front end like a low-rider. A swing of her arms and her wings soar up passed her into the air. Her body, in a backflip, mid flip while she was upside down - Eva reanimates the wings, into a backflip of their own, going into a nose dive behind her. Midair the backs of her palms rise to her sides to pull the wings in perfectly swooping her underneath her feet; catching her at the end of her backflip. Eva glides on them like they were a pair of skis, the three arrow buckets between her legs. By the time Eva landed on the wings her outstretched palms aimed fingertips at the dozen men down the street sending arrows straight into them, collapsing the frontline . . . her body count well over forty by now. Eva circles air towards the roof of the warehouse.

Flying away from the incoming horde of thugs and back down towards the hill by the river, with a backflip of my own that dazes me inspired by what I see coming in from the horizon . . . I take a deep breath after landing hard on the grassy hill, hiding from their sights.