Right of retribution boo.., p.27
Right of Retribution: Book 3, page 27
Like being followed by a gigantic flea. I can’t get rid of him easily.
He’ll just leap around like that and keep on me. If I go low, he can probably go forward a lot faster than I expect.
There’s no memories of Warin ever dealing with Seville acting like this, either. This is entirely new territory.
Looking over his shoulder for a split second, Warner saw Skipper high above and far behind him. She was following him, but at such a distance that he could do nothing to her.
It was obvious she wasn’t going to leave the situation alone. For one reason or another, she wanted to remain to make sure Warner ceased to exist.
Equally obvious to Warner was that Seville really didn’t want to do this. Even his companion Leena had attacked him in such a way that she wouldn’t survive it.
Looking back at Seville, he turned his head just in time to twist his body and roll out of the way.
A concrete chunk the size of a Volkswagen Beetle shot through the air where Warner had just been. It tore past him like a rocket in flight.
Seville was in the middle of a street down below. He stood at the edge of a massive crater in the ground that he’d likely created by ripping out the concrete.
Warner couldn’t afford to underestimate him for even a second.
Taking a moment, Warner began to climb again while watching Seville the entire time. He needed to gain a few seconds on the man so he could survey his surroundings. To see what was around him and what he could use to his advantage.
Pulling his wings in after climbing for several more seconds, Warner went into a steep dive. He did it while angling to one side, but also while making the turn somewhat loose.
It gave him a massive increase in speed and kept him moving in a path that wasn’t a straight line. The erratic nature of the turn also made it impossible to predict.
So long as he did it like this, Seville couldn’t try to knock him out of the air as if he were duck hunting.
Apparently, that didn’t mean Seville wouldn’t try. Several small chunks of asphalt and concrete shot past Warner. They missed him by significant margins since he was constantly changing the angle of his turn.
Reaching street level, Warner turned hard away from the direction in which he’d been going. Instead, he started to head back the way he’d come while keeping most of the speed he’d built up.
Zipping down to skim only a few feet above the sidewalk, Warner flew with all the speed he could manage. Flapping and pushing himself as he went.
If he slowed down at all, failed to keep himself low, or got spotted, he’d be right back to dealing with Seville and Skipper. It was, once again, a fight he couldn’t win.
Kinda hard to believe I’m out of my league. This is all too—
On a sudden feeling of danger, Warner went down so low that he clipped a no parking sign. Smashing around it to one side, Warner ended up rolling into the street and almost underneath a passing vehicle.
A car door cut through the air where Warner had been. It was flying sideways as if it’d been thrown like a frisbee. It slashed across the road, the sidewalk, and then blasted into a building. Going right through the front, it disappeared inside.
Getting to his feet, Warner looked back the way he’d come—back to where the car door itself had originated.
Seville was coming his way in a full on flea-like leap. Sailing through the air and heading right for Warner. It was an opportunity he couldn’t miss.
Taking a number of steps forward, Warner put himself just ahead and partly to the side of where Seville would land. Pulling up his power, he solidified it into his sword once more and then wound back.
“Batter up, fuck-stick,” growled Warner.
There was a look of surprise on Seville’s face a second before he landed.
Swinging with everything he had in him, and pouring forth all the power he could into his weapon, Warner swung for the fences. Trying to put his sword right through Seville.
The glowing blade slammed full force right into the middle of Seville’s chest.
Then it bounced backward, jerking at Warner’s arms, when it couldn’t overcome the momentum of the monster that this man was. Warner might as well have been a child swinging a plastic bat against a wall.
Seville landed smoothly, his boots hitting the ground and then sliding across the pavement with ease. The man turned around and faced Warner directly.
Glancing down to his chest at the same time Warner did, they both saw a deep gash on the man’s sternum. Blood flowed quite readily down the front of his chest.
Bright red blood that looked quite Human and normal.
Then the whole wound began to close on itself. Mending itself as if nothing had happened at all. After only a few seconds, it was fully healed with no scar left behind.
Warner watched in awe and, in that moment, realized just how outclassed he was by Seville. There really was no winning against this man.
“Like I said,” Seville said and then looked up to Warner again with a frown. “Sorry.”
Before Warner could react, Seville was there. A lightning-quick jab followed by a hook that rang Warner’s bell in a way that even Fear couldn’t accomplish.
It also sent Warner flying through the air again. Slamming into a building, he felt the concrete crack and give behind him.
Landing partly on his feet, Warner tried to orient himself on Seville.
His head felt like it was swimming and sounds were disjointed, as if they were intermittent and broken up.
Warner raised his weapon in front of himself. He managed to flick out a lunge and a slash.
Both landed on Seville’s torso, ripping the fabric of his clothes and causing small wounds. Which again closed in only a second.
Skipper appeared across the street in that moment, watching the fight with what looked like disdain.
Boredom, really.
I’m doing this all wrong.
Warner went down low as soon as Seville’s shoulder flexed. Like a lightning bolt, the man’s arm shot out in a straight punch that went right into the wall of the building. His hand vanished into the concrete right up to the forearm.
Taking the best action he could come up with, Warner launched himself in the air straight for Skipper. His sword was held out to his right and ready to be swung.
A moment of surprise flickered across Skipper’s face just before Warner arrived. His blade swung out in a wide slash.
Skipper had enough sense to act in a way that surprised Warner. She shoved her gimp-suited assistant at him and fell from the sky.
Warner’s sword cut the man in half at the waist and severed Skipper’s left hand clean off her wrist. Everything but Warner fell toward the ground.
Warner brought himself back around, even as he kept an eye on the falling woman. She landed with a loud bang on a metal sheet that covered a rooftop shack. Her right hand gripped the bloody stump of her left wrist and she appeared to be screaming in pain.
Unfortunately, at that moment, Warner forgot about Seville.
A full-sized tire from a car slammed into his chest. Knocking the wind from him, stalling his movement, and taking him right out of the air.
Unable to stop himself from falling, Warner could do nothing. He couldn’t even catch a breath to be honest.
Smashing into a roof, then crashing through it, Warner ended up falling into one of the buildings that he’d been flying over.
Landing amongst shocked shoppers, bins of product, and racks on one wall, Warner hit the ground and came to a stop. It’d been a bone-breaking landing that left him in terrible shape.
Breathing was difficult, he couldn’t see much around himself due to the falling dust and debris, and could only really see the hole he’d made in the roof above.
Distantly, he could hear people shouting, someone shrieking, and approaching police sirens. It seemed that despite everything else, daily life was still trying to catch up with where the world had gone.
Seconds ticked by, leaving Warner to contemplate the sky. At least what he could see of it through the hole in the ceiling.
It reminded him of the life he’d had before he became Yellow Eyes. Before all of this insanity had landed upon him.
Looking at the world through a hole.
Then Seville stepped over him and peered down into his face.
“Hey,” Seville said with a sniff. He idly waved a hand in front of his face. Apparently, the dust was bothering him. “Wow, didn’t realize that tire would get you that bad. Your chest looks like it’s fucking concave.”
Warner could only wheeze a response. He had no words to give to Seville. There would be no answer he could voice.
Seville let out a long sigh and then looked up to the hole. Faintly, Warner could hear the shriek and wail of who he was sure was Skipper.
“Well, you bought us an out,” Seville murmured, looking back down to Warner. “Now I don’t feel as bad that Leena has to go through another reprint. She’ll think it was worthwhile herself.”
Only able to lay there, Warner said and did nothing. It sounded to him like Seville was going to somehow let the situation end here.
Clicking his tongue, Seville stood up.
“Try not to get spotted in public. We’ve got orders to eliminate you outright,” explained Seville. “Skipper will make it her life’s wish to kill you since you got her wrist. I wonder how she’ll do with only one hand, ha. Anyway, hope I don’t see ya.”
Reaching out, Seville grabbed the nearby wall that was filled with children’s clothing. Then he jerked on it, his arm flexing wildly.
The entirety of the wall came down and covered Warner in children’s clothing as well as the remains of the wall. It didn’t exactly help Warner with his breathing issues, but it didn’t cause him much more in the way of distress either.
Warner could hear what sounded like someone walking. Making a circle of the pile that covered Warner. The footsteps stopped briefly near his right foot and were accompanied by what sounded like debris being thrown on top of the pile.
Some of it even landed atop Warner’s boot.
He’s making sure I’m not visible? What the fuck.
“Thanks,” Warner got out in a wretched wheeze that sounded terrible.
“Yup,” Seville replied from outside the pile. “Be quiet now and try not to use your powers until you’re ready to fight. Skipper will be watching for their use.”
There were more sounds of Seville moving about for a little longer before they faded to nothing. The distant shriek and scream of Skipper dimmed as well before going away entirely.
Warner was left alone in the ruins of a department store, covered in children’s clothes, and broken bodily.
He was, surprisingly, still alive.
Lost in an apocalyptic Florida, but very much alive and able to recover from his wounds.
First things first.
Recover. We’ll just… lay here… until we feel better. Sleep sounds great.
After that, try to get in contact with everyone. Somehow, someway, I need to get a message to Daria. See what she thinks and what we need to do next.
So much has happened in such a short time that I don’t even know which way to go anymore. I need my dear Fruitloop to lead the way.
Warner closed his eyes, took a chest-splitting breath, and focused on just resting. Trying to fall asleep or at least just lay still.
Fear was gone, War was dead, and Seville had left.
Warner was finally alone and relatively safe.
Twenty-Seven
Warner awoke to the sounds of people moving around.
The shuffling steps of people going through the remains of the store where Warner had been knocked down. There was the crunch and pop of things being crushed underfoot.
Except it didn’t feel right to Warner.
Something felt very off about the situation and he couldn’t place it. There was a sense of danger and an ominous presence. As though this was a direct threat to him, and he needed to be wary.
Laying there, Warner focused on what he could hear. What he could feel with only the passive usage of his power. He wasn’t about to doubt what Seville said about using his powers, considering the man had very clearly spared him after easily beating the tar out of him.
The man owed him absolutely nothing, but had done his best to let Warner go.
Relaxing, Warner let his passive senses creep out from the pile of debris where he was hidden. They gradually spread outward to encompass the surrounding areas.
His answer came swiftly. Those individuals moving around him were once soldiers of the Council. They were doers of misdeeds both great and small. They were a splinter group who reported directly to Skipper and who had remained loyal to her, while the rest defected to follow War.
Though, with War dead, what happens to the rest of the Council?
We rounded up the majority of their leaders, hit their bases incredibly hard, and cut out their support structure, as well as killing their ultimate leader. War is dead and gone.
Will they simply fold and rejoin society? Turn back to Skipper?
I suppose it’s somewhat of a moot point either way. The Council is more or less destroyed.
“Nothing here,” said a voice. Warner had no idea how or where to place it, given the way he was buried.
“Did you think there would be?” asked a second voice. “Probably long gone. They sent us here specifically because they gave us the rookies.”
The first speaker grunted at that and offered nothing else in reply. Slowly, the sound of boots crunching moved away from Warner. The noise eventually faded into complete silence.
Additionally, the feeling of injustice vanished with them, leaving Warner once again completely alone.
I can’t really stay here under this burial mound of mine. I’ll need water fairly soon, as well as to use the bathroom.
Sounds like they’re searching for me. Which would probably mean they have the assistance of the local government and agencies, wouldn’t it?
Hm. Can’t trust anyone for the moment then.
I’m not sure if they know what I look like or if they’re just looking for “Yellow Eyes”.
Play it safe. Safe, under the radar, and easy as it goes.
Nodding, Warner opened his eyes and began to look around. From what he could see with the little light he had, there wasn’t an immediate way to get out. Most of the wall that Seville had pulled down atop him covered him in broken bits of pressed fiberboard, coat hangers, and metal poles.
That and a truly frightening amount of clothes.
Turning his head to one side, then the other, and back again, Warner came to a realization.
If he wanted to get out from under this mess, it wasn’t going to be done quietly. He’d have to throw his arms out, stand up, and push his body through this mess. There really wasn’t any other option.
Should someone be nearby, or watching, there’d be nothing Warner could do about it. They’d see him do it and that was it.
Checking a sigh, Warner instead focused his concentration on his body.
Flexing his feet and ankles, then his calves, and moving upward through each part of his body, Warner checked his condition. Or at least, tried to find out what hurt and what didn’t.
It wasn’t until he got to his waist that he felt anything catch or sing out with pain. His lower back and where his legs met his hips felt stiff and painful. Moving anything in that general area felt like he was made of bruises.
Shifting around where he lay, Warner was pleased to find that his torso felt better than it had before. Breaths came easier, though still somewhat strained.
It felt as if someone had a foot on his sternum and would lean on him every now and then. Each breath came without pain, so long as he didn’t take a deep breath.
Whenever he tried that, it felt like he was trying to breathe using lungs filled to the brim with sharpened skewers. The very idea of exerting himself and then trying to suck down a deep breath sounded like the worst idea possible.
I’m not ready to face anyone.
Activating my abilities would just draw Skipper, and then Seville, back to me.
If Seville gets a hold of me like this, I’m done.
With a shake of his head, Warner reconsidered his options.
Once again, he found that he only had two possibilities. Stay buried and just deal with his growing need for water, or get out and risk being caught.
Warner made his choice even as he began to sit up.
Drawing his legs closer to his chest, he started to push with his hands at the debris on top of him. It began to slide and shift to one side or the other without too much issue.
Getting a knee to the ground, Warner pushed himself up to a kneeling position, then just stood up. There would be no easy way of going about this other than to simply do it.
Clothes and bits of wall fell away as Warner stood up and got a view of the store around him.
There was no one immediately nearby. He couldn’t see anyone waiting for him or lingering in the vicinity either.
Realizing he’d caught a break, Warner clambered out of the rubble pile. Unfortunately, he was making quite a bit of noise despite trying to be quiet.
No sooner than he’d cleared the debris than Warner was off in a fast walk that bordered on jogging. Moving farther and farther into the store, he realized it was something akin to a supermarket and general merchandise store in one large building.
Pausing as he passed by an aisle with dog and cat food, Warner realized that this was actually an opportunity. There was no telling how long he’d be stuck in this situation.
Turning hard to the right, he went down one aisle and then crossed over into what looked to be a department for maternity wear.
Getting in amongst the racks of clothes, Warner crouched low enough to stay out of sight of anyone wandering by.
Reading all of the available signs nearby, Warner quickly got a general impression of where he was in the store. Given that a lot of stores like this tended to organize things in a similar way, Warner had a better idea of which way to go.
