United States or North Macedonia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I don't want to be safe until you are. Please let me stay, Dark." "All right," Dark surrendered. "Shadow, give her your heatgun." The five of them left the room together. They emerged into a scene of incredible carnage. The Jellies, with only three heatguns which they were inept at using, had been no match for the Masters.
Then she saw her lighter-gun, lying on the lobby floor beside the chair in which she had gone to sleep. She bent down, casually, and picked it up. She straightened, the little instrument ready in her hand. "This is not a cigaret lighter, but a heatgun," she said flatly. "I'm in charge here, and I say Mr. Kensington is to be permitted to go free.
The door at the other end of the room opened, and a man emerged, a heatgun in his hand. Vidonati stopped in his tracks, startled, at the sight of Dark and Maya. Dark grunted in surprise, and reached for his heatgun. Even as Dark freed his weapon, Vidonati fired. The beam missed them, melting away the top of Maya's marshelmet and setting the bunk aflame.
The others turned in panic and began to crowd back down the corridor, the beams stabbing at them and picking them off one by one. Then, from amid the Jellies, a beam struck forth, and one of the Masters went down, his face burned away. Placer burned down the Jelly holding the heatgun, and the five survivors moved grimly on.
Apparently from out of nowhere, the unarmed Shadow descended like a thunderbolt on one of Happy's killers. The surprised Master went sprawling, his heatgun flying from his hand. Shadow might have vanquished the other, too, except that this startled individual, waving his heat beam wildly in an attempt to catch the elusive, vanishing and reappearing figure, scored a lucky hit.
Dark was not surprised to see that one of the group was Nuwell. Dark and Maya turned back toward the entrance toward the underground vats, but stopped as Old Beard emitted a growl of recognition. One of the three men who had emerged from the room was skinny, goateed Goat Hennessey, and he was coming forward now in the forefront of the group, a heatgun in his hand.
Reluctantly, Maya stepped up to it, and looked down into it. The pain which distorted Dark's face when he lay writhing from the heatgun blast was gone from his features. They were calm and peaceful in death. Maya gazed down at his face wistfully, sorrowfully, then turned away. "Well?" asked Nuwell impatiently. "Yes," she murmured. "That's Dark Kensington."
But Dark was now within range, and the intense beam of his downward-chopping heatgun caught Goat at the base of the skull and swept all the way down his back. Goat Hennessey plunged forward to the floor, dead, his spine burned away. Even as Goat fell, his companions emerged from their paralysis.
She had just stripped off the evening gown when she heard the bathroom door lock from the outside. A moment later, there was the crashing sound of breaking glass. Calmly, Maya burned off the lock of the bathroom door with the little heatgun. She pushed it open and went out into the room in her underwear. Dark was in the process of gingerly climbing through the broken window.
I'll tell Cheng to pick you up in one of the groundcars, and then Happy and Shadow can come back here to help us." "I'll do nothing of the sort," said Maya flatly. "You need them up here now, and I won't leave you. I'm going to stay here and help you. After all, I can handle a heatgun better than any of these Jellies." "But, Maya, I want to know that you're safe."
Word Of The Day